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23  VVST  .'^AINSiRIET 

WEBSTER,  h.Y.  14S80 

(716)  S73-4S03 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICIVIH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  *i!ming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographicallv  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  si^inificrintly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaira 
qu'il  lui  a  6t6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-dtre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  m6thode  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiqu6s  ci-dessous. 


D 
D 
D 
D 


V 


D 
D 
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Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 

Covers  damaged/ 
Couverture  endommagee 

Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurie  et/ou  pelliculde 

Cover  title  missing/ 

Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

Coloured  maps/ 

Cartes  g^ographiques  en  couleur 

Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Relie  avec  d'autres  documents 


n 

D 

n 


^ 


D 
D 


Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommag6es 

Pages  restored  ar^d/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restaurdes  et/ou  pellicul6es 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  d6color§es,  tachet^es  ou  piqu^es 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  d^tach^es 

Showthrough/ 
Transparence 

Quality  of  print  varies/ 
Qualite  inegale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  material/ 
Comprend  du  materiel  supplementaire 


D 


D 


Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  reliure  serree  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  intdrieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajoutdes 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  6tait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  6t§  film^es. 


D 


V 


Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 

Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  6t^  film^es  k  nouveau  de  fapon  d 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


D 


Additional  comments./ 
Commentaires  suppl^mentaires; 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  filmd  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqui  ci-dessous. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


26X 


30X 


>/ 


12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


:ails 

du 

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Th«  copy  fiirntd  ham  has  baan  raproducad  thanks 
to  tha  ganarosity  of: 

Library  Division 

Provincial  Archives  of  British  Columbia 

Tha  Imagas  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  bast  quality 
possibia  consldaring  tha  condition  and  iagibiiity 
of  tha  original  copy  and  in  kaaping  with  tha 
filming  contract  spacifications. 


Original  copias  in  printad  papar  covars  ara  filmad 
baginning  with  tha  front  covar  and  anding  on 
tha  last  paga  with  a  printad  or  iliustratad  impras- 
sion.  or  tha  back  covar  whan  appropriata.  All 
othar  original  copias  ara  filmad  baginning  on  tha 
first  paga  with  a  printad  or  iliustratad  impras- 
sion.  and  anding  on  tha  last  paga  with  a  printad 
or  iliustratad  impratsion. 


Tha  last  rscordad  frama  on  aach  microfiche 
shall  contain  tha  symbol  — ^>  (moaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  tha  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 

Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc..  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


I'axamplaira  film*  f ut  raprodult  grAce  A  la 
ginArosit*  da: 

Library  Division 

Provincial  Archives  of  British  Columbia 

Las  images  suivantas  ont  AtA  raproduites  avac  le 
plus  grand  soin.  compta  tenu  de  la  condition  at 
da  la  nattetA  de  rexemplaira  film*,  at  en 
conformit*  avac  las  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmaga. 

Les  exemplalres  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  ImprlmAe  sont  fiimAs  en  commenqant 
par  la  premier  plat  at  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
darnlAre  paga  qui  comporta  une  empreinte 
d'Impresslon  ou  d'illustration.  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  salon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autras  exemplalres 
originaux  sont  filmAs  an  commandant  par  la 
premiere  paga  qui  comporta  une  empreinte 
d'Impresslon  ou  d'illustration  at  en  terminant  par 
la  darnlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparcftra  sur  la 
darniire  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symtole  —^  signifie  "A  SUIVRE  ",  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN  ". 

Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  Atre 
filmAs  A  des  taux  de  reduction  diffArents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clichA,  il  est  film*  A  partir 
de  Tangle  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
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MEMOIRS   OF  MY  LIFE, 


BY 


JOHN  CIIABLES  FlilMOJJT. 


iNCLlDKVd   IX   THK   NAKUATrVE    FiVE   JofRXEYS   OF   AVeSTEKX    E 

DUItrNO   THK   YEAliS 

1842,  l,S43-4,  1845-0-7,  1S4S-!),  1853-4. 


XPLOUATIOX, 


SENATOR    BENTON, 


tooetheh  with  a  sketch  of  the  life  of 

^ATOR    BENT 

IN  CONNECTION   WITH   WESTEHX   EXPANSION 
11 V 

JESSIE  I^ENTOX  FREMONT. 


A  RETROSPECT  OF  FIFTY  YEARS 

COVERl^'G  THE  MOST  EVENTFUL  PFi>[ops  OF  MODERN  AMERICAN  HISTORY. 

SUPEKBLY    ILLUSTUATEH     nv    OlUO    >   w     foKTHAITS.     DESCRIPTIVE    PlaTFS 
AXn,  FROM   THE   MlSSOL-RI    RiVEU  TO   THE    PACIFIC,  RY   A    SERIES 

OF  Sketches  and  DAorERREOTYPEs  Made 
Dlrixu  the  Jouuxe^s. 


THE   ILLUSTllATIONS  AHE  MASTERPIECES  OK 

DARLEY.   HAMILTON,  SCIIUSSELE.   DALLAS,    KERN.   WALLIN  AND  OTHERS. 

KNCIHAVED  VNDEU  THE  SfPEHVlSlON  OF 

J.  M.  BUTLER, 

iriTir  MAPS  AXD  COUmEU  PLATES. 


Vol.  I. 


CHICAGO  AND  NEW  YORK: 
BELFORD,  CLAIJKE  &   COMPANY. 

1887. 


7  7 '■-7 


COrTRIOIIT, 

BELFOIU),  CLARKE  vt  CO. 

1886. 


1^ 


CONTENTS. 


I 


'I 


t*am 

Slope  of  the  Work ,,, 

Some  Account  of  the  Plates xv. 

HlOGRAFHICAL    SkETCH  OF  SENATOR  BeNTON,   IN    CONNECTION    WITH  WESTERN  EXPAN- 
SION           J 

CHAPTER   I. 

''^-^'^-33.  School  Days— 1833-36,  Cruise  on  U.  S.  S.  Natchez— 1836-37,  Appointed 
Professor  of  Mathematics  in  the  Navy— Assistant  Engineer  under  Captain 
Williams— Worli  in  Mountains  of  North  and  South  Carolina— 1837-38.  Threat- 
ened Hostilities  with  Cherokee  Indians— Indian  Civilization— Results  of  the 
Mission-Work  of  the  Protestant  and  Catholic  Churches 18-29 


CHAPTER   II. 

1S38,  Appointed,  by  President  Van  Buren,  Second  Lieutenant  of  Topographical 
Engineers— Expedition  under  Nicollet— 1839,  Second  Expedition,  under  Nicol- 
let north  of  the  Missouri  River— 1840,  In  Washington 30-54 

CHAPTER    III. 

1S40-41,  At  Work  in  Washington— Companionship  with  Mr.  Nicollet  and  Mr.  Hass- 
ler— Interest  of  Western  Senators  in  our  work— Mr.  Poinsett— Survey  of  the 
Des  Moines  River— Connected  by  Marriage  with  Senator  Benton-^Oregon 
Question— Charles  Prcuss— Planning  First  Expedition  to  the  Rocky  Moun- 
'^'"^ SS-72 

CHAPTER    IV. 

MV  FIRSr  KXPEDITION,    1842. 

My  First  Expedition— Personnel  of  Party— Meet  Kit  Carson— Kansas— Indian 
Country— False  Alarm— Platte  Valley— Enormous  Herds  of  Buffalo— Wild 
Horses— An  Indian  Charge— Arapaho  Indians— Near  Pike's  Peak— Lady  Pole 
Creek— White  River— Mr.  Preuss'  Journey— American  Fur  Company— Dan- 
gerous Country— Part  with  Brant  and  Benton— Detained  by  Indians— The 
Black  Hills y^_j2^ 


4ii*:.3 


Iv 


CO.\J'J:.\TS. 


CHAPTEF^   V.  , 

FIRST  KXTKnmoN,  1S42. — Continued, 

PAQI. 

Arteniisias — Indian  Alaim — Scattered  Indians— Deer  Creek— Nature  of  the  Lara- 
mie Road  — Discoiiraginj^  liiforniatiun — A  Cache — Sweet  Water  River — Goat 
Island — Devil's  (iale— First  Grizzly  and  Magpie— South  Pass— The  Little 
and  Hig  Sandy — Repairing  Barometer — Scarcity  of  Food — An  Impressive 
Spot— A  DifTicult  and  Dangerous  Ascent — Excessive  Fatigue,  \'(j  Food,  and 
111  -  Fremont's  Peak — Good  Humor,  Laugliter.and  Song— A  Canon — An  Ugly 
Pass — I!ot  Spring  CJate — Mr.  Pierre  Sarpy — Home  Again— Preparing  for  Sec- 
ond Expedition — Mrs.  Fremont  Intercepts  a  Government  Order 125-168 

CHAPTER    VI. 

SECOND    EXI'KDITION,    1843-44. 

Personnel  of  Party — Osages  Make  a  Charge- Ceremonious  Arapahoes — Prairie- 
dog  Village — Kit  Joins  us  Again— Seller's  Spring— Godey  Engaged — Yampah 
River — An  Attack  by  Arapahoes— Valley  of  Hear  River— Smith's  Fork— Pnuiss 
Objects  to  Kooyah — Root-Diggers' Country— Abimdanceof  Buffalo — Our  Rub- 
ber Boat 169-224 

CHAPIER   VII. 
SECOND  EXPEDITION,   1 843-44. — Continued. 

Near  Salt  Lake — Weber's  Fork — Living  on  Roots — The  Unknown  Sea— Dried 
Worms  for  Food— Disappointment  Island— Analysis  of  Salt  Lake — Meet  Mr. 
Fitzpatrick — Three  Buttes — \'olcanic  Rock  Formation — Riviere  aux  Cajeaux 
— A  Melancholy  and  Strange-looking  Country — A  Picturesque  Fall-  Reid's 
River— Mr.  Payette's  Hospitality— Cayuse  Indians -A  Perilous  Search  for 
Water— Big  Trees— Nez  Perce  Fort— Fort  Vancouver— The  Devil's  Hole— 
Luder's  Bay — Submerged  Forests — Mount  Rcgiiier,  St.  Helen's,  and  Mount 
Hood — Tlainath  Lake — Remarkable  Infusoria 225-292 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

SECOND  EXPEDITION,    1843-44. —  Continued. 

Fall  River — TIamath  Lake — Thermometer  at  Zero — A  Beautiful  Country — Lake 
Abert — Christmas — Almost  the  Missing  Link — Hot  Springs — An  Unknown 
Lake — Pyramid  Lake — The  Nut  Pine — Brandy  a  Good  Medicine — Majesty  of 
the  Mountains 293-323 


CHAPTER   IX. 

SECOND  EXPEDITU)N,  1 843-44. — Continued. 

Exhausted  by  Snow  and  Cold — The  Sierra    Nevada — Cutting  our  way  through 
Snow — 3°  Below  Zero  on  top  of  the  Sierra  Nevada — Menu: — Pea  Soup,  Mule, 


cchYTiuyrs. 


and  Dog— An   unlooked-for   icy   Haih— M 

Preuss  lost— Mr.  Preussfoiinrl— ri,.,i-t,.  i>       \-       ■     ^ 

Fort  and  Farm  .    .  "  '^^■''^^f^^'""  '^X  Captain  Sutter-Sutter's 


iih;    Soup— Severe    Suffering— Mr. 


rAOK 


324-354 


CHAPTER    X 
SECOND  KXPEDiTroN-,  iH^-AA—Contiuucd. 


r:>l-?,'>^2 


CliAPTKR    xi. 
KEco.vn  F.xPF.nrnoN,  i^^7,~^^.-ConHnued. 


CHAPTER  XH. 

THIRO    IXl'DDliin.v,   1845. 

Reach  St.  Lo.iis  August,  1844-Meet  my  mother  airain-Mr  Ronfon-       •    , 

cupied-Why  the  Mormons  chose  Salt  Lake-Siden  '  PoT  l     "'•'"'^  ^'■'°'- 
croft  to  Buchanan-Bancroft's  foresi<Wu".  Calffor n  ^  R     H    f  ^PJ'-'-^'-" 

.ng   H„rses-Fight  with    Indian   Horse-Thieves-M.xvvc'l  Ik    1  1"",    ' 

Owens  discovers  Gold-Fn  San  Joaquin  Valle^-Le  "rto  M        p"'      '"""r 
the  Valley  of  San  Jos6-Enormo..s  Trees  "   ^^''^■""""-I" 

4ii-45« 

CHAPTER  XIH. 
THIRD  KXPK.nn-.oN,  i845-i846._6W/W,/. 

Ordered  out  of  the  Country-General  Castro  Makes  an  Offer     Cnr 

with  Consul  Larkin-Neals  Good  Luck  \u  T  ^-'"^^-CoTesponaence 
Linn  and  Shastl-Wild  Cattle-^^lft  f^Su^^^^^^^^^^  "f  Salmon-Mounts 
lost-An  Unexplored  Country-Neal  inLmfmfo^G^E'""-^"!^'!'"^^^'- 
and  Receive  (Jovernment  Orders-Desncrr  Filul  ^.'  '^-^^P'^-Meet  Gdlespie 

and  swonok  take  two  Scaips-Anoth::'^:;^  wSV^-ul:":"'::'':^:'::^.,^^ 


vi  coxj7:.v/x 

CHAPTER    XIV. 

THIRD    KXPEDirioN,    1845-46. —  Contilllltil. 

PAcr 

Owens  has  tx  Figlit  with  Indians — Indians  frienflly  to  the  Hritish — Tiie  Junta's 
Pledge — Tlie  Handa  of  April  30,  1846 — Gillespie  to  Montgomery — Memorial  of 
American  Residents — Send  Ilensley  to  Dr.  Marsh — Name  (Jolden  (iate  Hay 
of  San  Francisco — Sierra  Nevada— Attack  on  Indian  Rancherias — Move  to 
American  Fork — I  Decide  to  (Govern  Events — Correspondence  with  Comman- 
der-in-Chief    Ide — Spike    Fourteen    Guns — Commander    Montgomery's 

Letters — General  Castro's  Request — Enter  Monterey — Commodore  Sloat  Dis- 
couraged—  Bancroft  to  Sloat — Governor  Price's  Statement — Sloat  yields  to 
Governor  Price 497-54J 

ClIAPTl'.R    X\'. 

■rifiRn  1  XPr.iiriinN,    i,S45-46.  —  Cantl'ir-;/. 

Conference  with  Commodore  Stockton — Senator  Dix's  Views — Other  Sena- 
tors' f)pinions — Father  McXamara — Mexican  Autliority  ends  in  California — 
Admiral  Seymour's  View — The  President  \>'antc(l  California — What  Governor 
Pickens  says — Interesting  Speculations — Embark  on  the  Cyane  for  San  Diego 
— On  the  road  to  Los  Angele.s — Castro  flis]ierscs  his  Force — Carson  starts  for 
Washington  with  Desi^atches  — Leave  Los  Angeles  for  Sacramento — A  lively 
fight  with  Bears — General  Heale's  humorous  Account — Commander  Montgom- 
ery's great  Loss — Captain  Mervint'>  Fight — General  Kearny  reaches  Califor- 
nia— General  Kearny  worsted  at  San  Harnardo — Creneral  Kearny  forced  Carson 
to  return — Carson's  Honest  Statement  of  Kearny's  Actions — Kearny  refuses 
being  made  Commander-in-Chief — Kearny  wants  to  be  Governor — h'iores'  well- 
considered  Plan — Captain  IJurroughs  Shot — Severe  March  injui  San  Juan  to 
Los  Angeles — Don  Jesus'  Wife  and  Children  Plead — The  Treaty  of  Couenga 
— Hostilities  ended 543-60 j 


CHAPTER      ,V   RESULTS. 

Reasons  for  tliis  Chapter — Humboldt:  Extracts  from  "  Cosmos  "  on  \'aluc  of  Sur- 
veys, and  on  Volcanic  Disturbances  in  Oregon,  etc.— Aid  rendered  by  Profes- 
sors Torrey  and  Hall  in  Analysis  of  Collections,  Botanical  and  Geological — 
Notes  on  Astronomical  Observations  by  Professor  Hubbard — Capitulation  of 
Couenga — Completing  Govenunent  Policy  to  Conquer  and  Conciliate  . . .  .603-655 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


John  C.  Frd-mont, 


Jessie  Benton  P'remont 

Xupuluon  lior.apartc 

'I'humiis  l\.  I  .  nton 

Tliomus  .'.eff  rson 

Ik-nton's  v;  (iMimciit,  St.  Louis,  Mo 

Olicyemic  liclle 

Among  the  Buffalo 

J.ost  on  tlie  Prairie 

Colorado  Valley 

Kit  Carson 

Cheyenne  Brave  

Moving  Camp 

T'ort  Laramie 

L^himney  Rock 

Sunset,  Upper  Waters  Colorado 

Buffalo  Escaping  from  Piairic  I'irc 

Wind  River  Chain 

Central  Chain,  Wind  River  Mountain— Fremont  Peak. 
Fremont  Rticky  Mountain  Flag 


.  Frontispiece 

FACING  I'ACK 

XIV 

xvni 


I 

12 

'4 
40 

42 

44 

57 

72 

84 

88 

106 

no 

121 

146 
'5° 


196 
200 


Jessie  Benton  Fremont ,' 

View  of  Pike's  I'eak ■■'■■■■  ^  ' ^ ^ '''' ^ ^  ' ^^ ^' '''' ^'^. 'so 

The  Spanish  Peaks „ 

,,            .    ,              „     ..             182 

Upper  Arkansas  Prairies  near  River  Flills ^^ 

West  Rocky  Mountains  bordering  Great  Colorado  Valley ' . . .    ,«(, 

Utah  Indian ' 

,..  ,    ,    ,.  188 

I  tall  Indian 

Utah  Indian "!!!!!!!!!!!"!!!!!!!!!!!'" '^? 

Uncr.nipagre  River,  West  Slope  Rocky  Mountains 

I  'tah  Bov 

'*''* •■•», , ^  ^ 2T2 

Standing  Ruck 

Utah  Indian ■^^^'^'^^^^^'^'^'''^^''''''. 

Utah  Indian ~ 

Big  Timber,  Arkansas  River 

Camp,  October  14th,  Snake  River !.!.....! ^r^ 

Getting  Water— Deep  Ravine,  Sierra  Nevada !!!!!!!. •'° 

Hill  of  Columnar  Basalt  on  the  Columbia  River 

Crossing  the  Ford  at  Fall  River ' !!° 

"  Used  a  Child  for  a  Fig  Leaf  "    '......".!......' 

Shooting  Rapids  of  Lower  ColuiViCj'a !!.!.!..!! 

Night  on  the  Lower  Columbia ...'....... 

Pass  in  the  Sierra  Mojada _ '  _  _      ^L 

Pyramid  Lake 

■ 310 


272 

274 
276 


viii 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRA  TIONS. 


FACINO   PAGE 

Sierra  Mojada 313 

Talk  with  Indians — Eastern  Slope  Sierra  Nevada 326 

Pass  in  the  Sierra  Nevada  of  California 338 

Captain  Sutter 350 

Slitter's  Fort 352 

Old  Building  adjoining  Sutter's  Fort 356 

Carson  and  Godey  returning  from  Indian  Fight 374 

Forest  Camp — Shastl  Peak 377 

A  Digger  Indian , 386 

Upper  Arkansas  River  below  Bent's  Fort 406 

Upper  Arkansas  River 408 

Geoige  Bancroft 414 

Upper  Sacramento  Valley 422 

The  Claimant 430 

Old  Digger  Woman  abandoned  by  her  People 436 

Tlamath  J.ako 441 

JSicdicine  Man 442 

Fhick  of  Wild  Ceese 444 

Scene  of  Fremont  Camp,  1845 446 

Saj^iiiidai 490 

Tlamath  River — Attack  by  Tlamaths 496 

Upper  Sacramento   Hills 505 

Tlie  Hutics  -Sacramento  Valley 508 

England  and  the  United  States  at  Monterey 532 

Point  of  Pines , 534 

(Governor  Rodman  M.  Price 538 

Old  Custom  House — Monterey,  Cal 542 

Carmel  Mission  Church 544 

Interior  of  Carmel  Mission — Ruins 546 

False  Bay,  near  Carmel 548 

The  Huerfano  Butte 569 

Midshipman  Beale 580 

View  of  Monterey  and  Remains  of  old  Fort 584 

Distant  View  of  Carmel  Mission 58G 

Fossil  Fresh-water  Infusoria  from  Oregon 620 

Fossil  Ferns 622 

Fossil  Shells 626 

Botanv  Plates,  3  anc:  4 640 

Botany  Plates,  ^  and  2 642 

MAPS. 

Map  Shoving  Acquisition  of  Territory 16 

Country  Explored  by  John  C.  Fremont 1 20 

Portion  of  Bear  River  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake 202 

Beer  Springs 208 

The  Great  Salt  Lake 232 

Rio  de  Los  Americanos 354 

Map  of  United  States  showing  Area,  Acquisition,  and  Transfer  of  Territory 603 


•••  3^3 

...   326 

•••  338 

•••  35° 

•••  352 

■••  356 

•••  374 

•••  377 

...  386 

. .  .  4o6 

. . .  408 

. ..  414 

. . .  422 

• • •  430 

• • .  436 

•••  441 

. . .  442 

•••  444 
. ..  446 
. . .  490 
. . .  496 

•••  505 
...  508 

•••  532 
•••  534 
•■•  538 
. ..  542 
•••  544 
...  546 

...  548 
. ..  569 
. ..  580 
...  584 
...  s8G 
. . .  620 
. . .  622 
. ..  626 
. .  640 
. . .  642 


16 
120 
202 
208 
232 
354 
603 


I 


SCOPE  OF  THE  WORK. 


The  narrative  contained  in  these  volumes  is  personal.  It  is  intended 
to  draw  together  the  more  important  and  interesting  parts  in  the  journals 
of  various  expeditions  made  by  me  in  the  course  of  Western  exploration, 
and  to  give  my  knowledge  of  political  and  military  events  in  which  I  have 
myself  had  part.  The  principal  subjects  of  which  the  book  will  consist, 
and  Avhich,  with  me,  make  its  rai'sou  d'etre,  are  three  :  the  geographical 
explorations,  made  in  the  interest  of  Western  expansion  ;  the  presidential 
campaign  of  1856,  made  in  the  interest  of  an  undivided  country;  and  the 
civil  war,  made  in  the  same  interest.  Connecting  these,  and  naturally 
growing  out  of  them,  will  be  given  enough  of  the  threads  of  ordinary  life 
to  jusdfy  the  claim  of  the  work  to  its  title  of  memoirs  :  purporting  to  be 
the  history  of  one  life,  but  being  in  realty  that  of  three,  because  in  sub- 
stance the  course  of  my  own  life  was  chiefly  determined  by  its  contact 
with  the  other  two— the  events  recorded  having  in  this  way  been  created, 
or  directly  inspired  and  influenced,  by  three  different  minds,  each  having 
the  same  objects  for  a  principal  aim. 

The  published  histories  of  the  various  explorations  have  now  passed 
out  of  date,  and  are  new  to  the  present  generation,  to  which  the  region 
between  the  Mississippi  and  the  Pacific  Ocean  presents  a  different  face 
from  that  to  which  these  accounts  relate. 

In  the  present  narrative  the  descriptions  of  the  regions  travelled  over 
will  be  simply  of  what  would  then  have  met  a  traveller's  eye.  The  prevail- 
ing impression  on  his  mind  would  have  been  one  of  constant  surprist?  that 
so  large  a  portion  of  the  earth's  surface  should  have  so  long  remained 
unoccupied  and  unused.  Millions  of  people  now  occupy  the  ground  where 
then  he  encountered  only  wild  animals  and  wild  men.  But  nothing  of  this 
present  condition  will  be  given  here. 

The  Slight  knowledge  which  a  traveller  could  glean  in  journeys  that 
were  impelled  forward  by  hunger,  and  thirst,  and  miminency  of  dangers, 
has  in  this  day  been  perfected  and  made  thoroughly  available.     The  scant 


^^ 


IV 


SCOPE   OF    rilK    WORK. 


i 


scientific  information  which  was  gathered  in  these  travels,  and  which,  as 
indications  or  suggestions,  had  its  value  at  the  time,  will  therefore  not 
have  any  place  in  the  present  narrative.  The  striking  features  and 
general  character  of  the  regions  traversed,  the  incidents  which  made  their 
local  coloring,  a:;',  the  hardships  belonging  to  remote  and  solitary  jour- 
neys, will  be  retained,  so  far  as  can  well  be  done  within  the  limit  of  the 
pages  which  are  intended  to  embrace  narratives  covering  broad  regions  of 
country  and  half  a  century  of  American  time.  But  the  emigrants  who 
have  since  then  traversed  and  changed  the  face  of  these  regions  will 
doubtless  find  enough  to  remind  them,  and  have  pleasure  in  being 
reminded,  of  the  scenes  with  which  they  were  once  so  familiar,  and  of 
hardships  which  they  themselves  were  compelled  to  face. 

Out  of  these  expeditions  came  the  seizure  of  California  in  1846.  The 
third  exploring  party  was  merged  in  a  battalion  which  did  its  part  in 
wresting  that  rich  territory  from  Mexico,  and  the  conquest  of  California 
will  consequently  have  a  prominent  place  in  the  narrative  of  these  expe- 
ditions. 

Concerning  the  presidential  campaign  of  1856,  in  which  I  was 
engaged,  statements  have  been  made  which  I  v/ish  to  correct ;  and  in  that 
of  1864  there  were  governing  facts  which  have  not  been  made  public. 
These  I  propose  to  set  out. 

Some  events  of  the  civil  war  in  which  I  was  directly  concerned  have 
been  incorrectly  stated,  and  I  am  not  willing  to  leave  the  resulting  erro- 
neous impressions  to  crystallize  and  harden  into  the  semblance  of  facts. 

These  subjects,  as  I  have  said,  make  the  chief  reason  for  this  work. 

The  general  record  is  being  made  up.  This  is  being  done  from 
different  points  of  view  ;  and,  as  this  view  is  sometimes  distorted  by 
imperfect  or  prejudiced  knowledge,  I  naturally  wish  to  use  the  fitting 
occasion  which  offers  to  make  my  own  record.  It  is  not  the  written  but 
the  published  fact  which  stands,  and  it  stands  to  hold  its  ground  as  fact 
when  it  can  meet  every  challenge  by  the  testimony  of  documentary  and 
recorded  evidence. 

John  C.  Fremont. 


V.'aihiH^tOH,  IK  L',,  M>iy,  1886. 


icli,  as 
re  not 
s   and 
;  their 
y  jour- 

of  the 
onsof 
s  who 
IS  will 

being 
ind  of 

The 
)art  in 
ifornia 
;  expe- 

I  was 
in  that 
public. 

1  have 
I  erro- 
cts. 
)rk. 

:  from 
ed  by 
fitting 
en  but 
IS  fact 
•y  and 


3NT. 


1 


SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  PLATES. 


IIY    JESSIE    BENTON    FREMONT. 


In  1853  we  were  living  in  Paris,  where  Mr.  Fremont  was  having 
his  first  leisure  and  rest,  and  his  plan  was  repose  and  congenial  study 
for  a  year  or  more  longer,  when  there  came  from  my  father  the  informa- 
tion that  Congress  had  ordered  three  lines  to  be  surveyed  with  a  view 
to  select  the  best  for  overland  travel  and  ultimately  a  railway  •  that  it 
had  been  intended  that  he,  Mr.  Fremont,  should  lead  one,  but  as  Con- 
gress had  not  inserted  any  name  in  the  bill,  the  then  Secretary  of  War 
Mr.  Jefferson  Davis,  had  not  named  Mr.  Fremont  to  any  of  the  thre<'. 
Captain  Gunnison,  who  had  been  given  the  command  of  the  line  of  sur- 
veys intended  for  Mr.  Fremont,  was  killed  by  the  Indians  in  the  earlier 
part  of  his  work. 

Of  the  four  journeys  of  exploration  already  made  by  Mr.    Fremont, 
three  had  been  under  orders  of  the  Government,  and  one,  that  of  1848-49 
was  at  his  own  cost.     Finding  himself  omitted  from  this  culminating  work 
which  was  based  on   his  own  labors,  Mr.   Fremont  organized  and  made  a 
hfth  journey  at  hi;-  own  expense. 

The  instruments  were  selected  in  Paris,  and  on  the  way  throu^di 
London  to  his  steamer  at  Liverpool,  he  found  the  just  published  volume 
of  Cosmos,  in  which  Mumboldt,  speaking  of  photography,  hopes  it  will 
be  applied  in  travel,  as  securing  "  the  truth  in  Nature."  In  New  ^'ork  the 
daguerre  apparatus  was  bought,  and  a  good  artist  secured,  Mr.  Carvalbo 
And  though  new  conditions  and  difficulties  made  many  embarrassments 
yet  almost  all  the  plates  were  beautifully  clear,  and  realized  the  wish  of 
Humboldt  for  "  truth  in  representing  nature."  These  plates  were  after- 
ward made  into  photographs  by  Brady  in  New  York.  Their  long 
journeying  by  mule  through  storms  and  snows  across  the  Sierras,  then 


% 


.W  1 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  I. IFF. -JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


the  searching  tropical  damp  of  the  sea  voyage  back  across  the  Isthmus, 
left  them  unharmed  and  surprisingly  clear,  and,  so  far  as  is  known, 
give  the  first  connected  series  of  views  by  daguerre  of  an  unknown  coun- 
try, in  pictures  as  truthful  as  they  are  beautiful. 

During  the  winter  of  '55-'56  Mr.  Fremont  worked  constantly  at  Mr. 
Brady's  studio  aiding  to  fix  these  daguerre  pictures  in  their  more  per- 
manent form  of  photographs.  Then  at  our  own  house  I  made  a  studio 
of  the  north  drawing-room,  where  a  large  bayed  window  gave  the  proper 
light.  Here  for  some  months  Hamilton  worked  on  these  views,  repro- 
ducing many  in  oil ;  he  was  a  pupil  of  Turner  and  had  great  joy  in  the 
true  cloud  effects  as  well  as  in  the  stern  mountains  and  castellated  rock 
formations.  The  ens/ravinsjfs  on  wood  were  also  made  under  our  home 
supervision  ;  by  an  artist  young  then,  a  namesake  and  grandson  of  Frank 
Key,  the  author  of  "  The  Star-Spangled  Banner."  From  these  artists 
their  work  was  passed  to  artist-engravers  of  the  best  school  of  their  art. 
Darley  also  contributed  his  talent.  Some  pictures  he  enlarged  into  india- 
ink  sketches,  and  from  his  hand  came  the  figures  in  many  of  the  plates. 
This  work  progressed  through  the  busy  year  to  us  of  1856. 

Mr.  George  Childs,  of  Philadelphia,  was  to  bring  out  the  journals  of 
the  various  expeditions  as  a  companion  book  of  American  travel  to  the 
Arctic  journeys  of  Dr.  Kane,  then  being  published  by  the  same  house.  The 
year  of  '56  gave  no  leisure  however  for  writing  ;  what  could  be  done 
without  too  much  demand  on  Mr.  Fremont  was  carried  forward,  but  he 
alone  could  write  and  that  was  no  time  for  looking  back.  Private 
affairs  had  been  so  much  interfered  with  and  necessarily  deranged  by  the 
Presidential  campaign,  that  the  work  proposed  to  be  written  and  published 
was  unavoidably  delayed,  and  the  contract  finally  cancelled  ;  Mr.  Fremont 
reimbursing  Mr.  Childs  for  all  the  expenditures  made  in  preparation.  The 
lime  for  v/riting  tlid  not  seem  to  come.  Private  affairs  in  California,  then 
our  war,  and  again  private  business  until  now.  During  these  thirty  years 
the  boxes  containing  the  material  for  this  book  were  so  carefully  guarded 
by  me,  that  all  understood  the)-  must  be  saved  first  in  case  of  fire.  When 
we  were  leaving  for  Arizona  in  '78  the  boxes  containing  the  steel  plates 
and  wood  blocks  were  placed  in  Morrell's  "  Fire- Proof "  warehouse,  which 
was  destroyed  by  fire  in  October  of  '81.  We  lost  much  that  was  stored 
in  tiiat  warehouse,  choice  books,  pictures,  and  other  treasured  thmgs,  but 
these  materials  for  the  book  we  had  had  placed  for  greater  security  in  the 
safes  below  the  pavement,  where  the  great  fire  passed  over  them  and 
left  them  completely  unharmed. 

My  father's  portrait  is  another  of  the  illustrations  which  have  gone 
through  the  ordeal  by  fire.  When  his  house  here  was  burned  in  February 
of  '55,  the  day  chanced  to  be  so  cold  that  the  water  froze  in  the  hose. 


"% 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRMIONT. 


Xsll 


There  was  no  adequate  water  supply,  or  good  appliances  for  fire  here 
then,  and  the  firemen  could  only  look  on,  powerless.  Both  Houses  of 
Congress  had  adjourned  immediately  on  hearing  of  the  fire,  and  a  vast 
throng  surrounded  the  doomed  house.  My  father  felt  their  sympathy, 
but  the  volumes  of  suffocating  smoke  drove  Ijack  all  who  tried  to  er.ter, 
when  there  came  a  young  friend,  our  neighbor,  and  son  of  an  old  friend 
and  neighbor,  Mr.  Frank  Key  (of  "  The  Star-Spangled  Banner"),  and  in 
spite  of  warning  cries  he  plunged  into  the  smoke  and  fire  to  save  for  my 
father  the  portrait  of  my  mother,  which  he  thought  was  in  her  former 
room. 

When  he  was  seen  at  a  front  window  a  great  shout  of  relief  rose.  Drop- 
ping the  picture  to  outstretched  arms  he  climbed  to  the  lintel  of  the  hospita- 
ble door  no  one  was  ever  to  pass  again  and  helping  hands  and  roaring  shouts 
greeted  him — singed,  scorched,  but  his  eyes  alight  with  joy  to  have  saved 
the  home  face  to  my  father.  It  was  a  mistake,  for  the  portrait  was  that 
of  my  father  in  his  younger  day.  Il  was  the  one  only  thing  saved  from 
all  that  house  so  full  of  accumulated  household  treasures  from  both  my 
mother's  and  my  father's  lives  and  belongings.  The  library,  his  own,  and 
his  father's,  with  the  great  folios  of  Knglish  state  trials  from  which  he  began 
to  read  law  and  history  with  his  mother,  was  the  keenest  felt  loss.  Many 
precious  private  papers  were  burned,  and  nearly  half  the  manuscript  of  the 
second  volume  of  the  Thirty  Years'  \'iew. 

My  house  was  near  and  my  father  came  to  me.  Neither  of  us  had  slept 
but  he  made  me  lie  down  and  we  had  talked  together  as  only  those  who 
love  one  another  can  talk  after  a  calamity.  This  portrait  stood  on  a  dress- 
ing table,  and  we  spoke  of  Barton  Key's  tender  thought  and  brave  effort  to 
save  for  him  what  he  would  most  value,  and  the  pity  of  the  mistake.  "  It 
is  well,"  my  father  said,  "  there  is  less  to  leave  now  -  this  has  made  death 
more  easy.      }\m  will  have  this  picture  of  me." 

I  felt  the  undertone;  but  never  knew  until  his  life  was  ended  that  e\en 
then  he  was  observing  and  recording  for  the  guidance  of  his  physician, 
symptoms  which  from  the  first  he  thought  foretold  cancer.  So  wonderful 
was  his  calm  endurance  that  Dr.  Hall  and  Dr.  May  each  thought  if  might 
be  another  cause  cUid  that  an  operation  might  restore  his  health.  For  a 
time  it  did  give  relief.  Then  the  disease  re-asserted  itself  With  the  c(  r- 
tainty  now,  with  the  fierce  pain  eating  away  his  life,  my  father  rewrote 
the  burned  manuscript  and  completed  his  work,  lie  had  exacted  silence 
from  his  physicians  because  "  my  daughters  are  all  young  mothers,  and 
must  not  be  subject  to  the  prolonged  distress  of  knowing  my  condition 
hopeless." 

The  last  likeness,  taken  by  Brady  forme  in  New  York  in  '57,  shows  the 
same  energy,  will,  and  directness,  but  all  softened  by  time  and  the  influence 


W  HI 


.\,'/:mo/ks  ()/•■  .]/]■  /.//■■/':— /o//y  charles  frkmont. 


of  a  mind  constantly  enlarging  and  therefore  constantly  freeing  itself  from 
pcrscinal  views.  And  the  constant  exercise  of  kindness  and  protection,  so 
marked  in  my  father's  nature  and  habits,  have  left  a  stamp  of  benignity 
which  proves  the  tender  inner  nature  lying  deeper  and  stronger  than  that 
more  commonly  known  which  made  his  public  record  of  defiant  and  aggres- 
sive leadership,  and  gives  the  complete  man  who  was  so  loved  by  his 
fricmls  antl  family. 

The  portrait  of  Mr.  Jefferson  is  from  an  excellent  copy  of  the  original 
l)\-  .Stuart,  belonging  to  Mrs.  John  W.  Burke,  of  Alexandria,  Virginia;  the 
grcal-granddaughter  of  Jefferson,  and  daughter  of  Mr.  Nicholas  Trist,  the 
intimate  friend  of  Jackson.  Through  another  of  Jefferson's  immeiliate  ile- 
.•^'-'endants,  Miss  .Sarali  Randolph,  who  wrote  the  beautiful  "  Domestic  Life 
of  Jefferson,"  I  am  indebted  for  knowledge  of  this  portrait  and  the  intro- 
duction to   Mrs.  Burke  who  has  so  kindly  let  me  use  it. 

The  head  of  Napoleon  is  troni  a  collection  of  authentic  Bonaparte  sou- 
\enirs.  a  part  of  which  was  becjueailied  to  me  by  the  Count  de  la  Garde, 
a  I'rench  gentleman  who  had  made  his  collection  in  Paris  from  the  days  of 
the  first  Consulate.  He  was  already  a  man  of  advanced  age  when  we  first 
knew  him  there  in  '52.  His  father  was  a  member  of  the  last  Cabinet  of 
Louis  the  1 6th,  and,  as  a  boy  often,  he  had  seen  the  opening  of  the  great 
revolution.  In  1804  Bonaparte  restored  to  him  the  remainder  of  their  fam- 
i!\-  estates,  and  gratitude  was  added  to  the  sincere  admiration  he  felt  for 
the  master-mind  that  had  brought  France  to  order  from  anarchy.  There 
was  also  a  previous  link  of  intermarriage  which  connected  his  family  w^ith 
that  of  the  Beauharnais,  and  brought  friendly  intimacy  between  Prince 
Lugene,  Queen  Hortense,  and  himself  From  among  his  rich  collection  he 
made  \\\)  for  me  an  Album  of  Souvenirs  of  this  historical  family,  with  many 
autograph  letters  and  various  portraits  at  different  epochs  of  Napoleon. 
Josephine',  Mortens*',  and  her  brother  Eugene  and  others.  The  portrait 
here  given  is  of  Napoleon  as  First  Consul,  date  1804. 

The  Count  de  la  Garde  died  in  1861,  and  it  shows  how  little  the  most 
cultivated  continental  foreigners  comprehended  our  people,  when  even  this 
charmingly  intelligent  man  provided  in  his  will  "that,  should  the  unhappy 
ciinditions  of  the  country  and  disorders  arising  from  revolution  make  it 
in^.ljossible  to  trace  the  Fremont  family  within  a  year,"  then  my  Album  was 
to  go  to  the  Em|)eror  (Napoleon  IIL),  to  whom  he  left  all  the  rest  of  his 
r.i'na|)arte  collection. 

Of  course  I  received  at  once  at  my  home  in  New  York  the  letter  of  the 
Fxecutor,  and  there  should  have  been  no  delay  in  the  bequest  being  sent 
to  me  there  after  my  answer  reached  Paris. 

In  place  of  the  Album  however  came  a  letter  from  the  Executor,  saying 
the  Emperor  wished  to  keep  unbroken  all  souvenirs  of  his  mother,  and  would 


I  It  I 


MEAfOlRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


XIX 


like  to  have  also  what  the  Count  de  la  Garde  had  intended  for  me.  That 
naturally  they  were  of  less  interest  to  me,  and  that  in  any  matter  of  personal 
interest  to  myself  "auprl's  de  votre  gouvcrnemenl  "  the  Emperor  would  lend 
his  aid. 

Although  I  repeated  my  request  for  the  Album  it  did  not  come.  The 
silence  made  me  uneasy.  I  thought  of  the  simple  business  American  plan 
of  asking  at  Wells  and  Fargo's  Express  if  they  could  not  get  it  on  my  order 
as  a  parcel ;  explaining  the  matter  and  showing  them  the  correspondence. 
They  agreed  with  me  that  a  quick,  silent  move  which  was  a  business  trans- 
action could  not  be  interfered  with.  And  in  that  way  my  Album  was  at 
once  secured,  and  brought  to  me.  But  the  year  of  delay  which  was  to 
make  it  lapse  to  the  Emperor  was  nearly  complete. 

Other  portraits,  belonging  with  events,  and  given  us  for  tnis  use,  will 
be  further  spoken  of  in  the  book. 


w. 


!  I 


-i 


I 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

OF 

SENATOR    BENTON, 

IN    CONNECTION-    WITH    WKSTKRN    EXPANSION. 

Bv   JESSIE    BENTON    FREMONT. 


Whe.v,  in  the  opening  of  the  war  oi  1812,  hiy  Father,  under  General 
Jackson,  marched  from  Nashville  to  defend  the  lower  Mississippi,  he  made 
two  discoveries  which  .gave  new  form  to  his  own  life  and  larjrely  moulded 
the  fate  ot  our  Western  country  to  its  ocean  boundary. 

The  first,  on  which  depcnd.'d  the  other,  was,  that  it  lay  within  the 
power  of  his  own  will  to  rc-ain  hralth  and  live  ;  the  other,  that  until  then 
his  mind  had  been  one-sided,  and  that  there  was  a  West  as  well  as  an 
East  to  our  country.  This  march  revealed  to  him  the  immense  possibili- 
ties and  future  power  of  the  then  recent  "  Louisiana  purchase;  "  and  his 
mind  gained  the  needed  balance  aoainst  the  exclusivelv  English  and  sea- 
board influences  to  which  he  had  been  born  and  in  which 'he  had  been 
trained. 

Quick  to  see  and  to  foresee,  and  (njually  steadfast  in  living  up  to  his 
convictions,  his  decision  was  made  then  ;  to  leave  inherited  lands,  family 
friends,  and  an  already  brilliant  position  in  the  law,  and  devote  himself  to 
the  new  West.  To  its  imperial  river- the  Father  of  Floods-^he  became 
captive,  and  to  it  and  the  lands  it  drained  he  gave  life-long,  foithful,  and 
accumulating  service  and  homage.  My  father  was  so  proudly  and  thor- 
oughly American  that  his  departure  from  all  the  influences  that  had  created 
and  until  then  governed  his  thoughts  shows  the  power  of  innate  force 
against  inherited  and  educated  influence. 

Born  of  English  parentage  on  the  English  seaboard  ;  brought  up  in 
English  and  intensely  colonial-royalist  surroundings  ;  trained  by  a  scholarly 


Fin 


I  ■ 

ill; 


a  MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFK—JOHX  CHARLES  FREMONT. 

Englishman  to  English  thought  and  aims  ;  and  with  his  profession  of  the 
law  keeping  his  mind  down  to  a  habit  of  deference  to  precedent  and  safe 
usage,  my  father  had  reached  his  thirtieth  year  before  he  discovered  him- 
self. With  the  great  river  and  his  instinct  of  what  the  West  must  become, 
came  to  him  the  resolve  which  governed  all  his  after  life  ;  and,  by  the 
happy  chance  which  made  me  the  connecting  link,  this  resolve  was  con- 
tinued and  expanded  through  that  of  JNIr.  Fremont.  And  so  the  two  lives 
became  one  in  the  work  of  opening  out  our  Western  country  to  emigration 
and  secure  settlement,  and  in  the  further  acquisition  of  Pacific  territory 
which  "  gives  us  from  sea  to  sea  the  whole  temperate  zone,"  and  brings  to 
our  Pacific  ports,  across  our  continent,  that  long-contested-for  India  trade. 
In  the  Park  at  Saint  Louis  stands  a  bronze  statue  of  my  father,  and 
upon  its  pedestal,  below  the  hand  which  points  West,  are  his  prophetic 
words  : 

"    I'HEKl,    I>    1  IIK    K.\>1  ; 

TlIKKK    I.IKS    Till:    KO\l)     I'O    INDIA;" 

words  which,  when  spoken  by  him,  had  made  men  smile  significantly  to 
one  another ;  too  much  dwelling  on  this  idea  had — they  thouglit — warped 
his  miud.  "They  who  listened  said.  This  man  is  mad;  now  they  asked. 
Math  he  a  God  ?  " 

Anyone  can  grasp  prepared  results.  The  mind  that  can  see,  prepare, 
and  concentrate  chaotic  and  antagonistic  contlitions,  so  that  a  great  result 
becomes  inevitable,  is  rarely  the  one  to  wear  the  laurels  of  completed  suc- 
cess. Moses  led  the  children  of  Israel  to  the  Promised  land,  but  he  did 
not  enter  there  and  rest.  The  heat  and  burden  of  the  d?.y  were  for  him  ; 
the  fruit  was  for  those  wliose  tloubts  aiul  discords  had  made  his  heaviest 
burden. 

It  is  the  formation  phase  of  this  western  expansion  of  our  country, 
of  much  that  shaped  (^\\\■  present  national  greatness,  of  which  1  am  able  to 
tell  from  my  own  home  knowledge-  w  hat  one  might  name  the  lireside 
history  of  the  great  West. 

It  is  onlj-  in  connection  with  this  side  of  his  long  useful  public  life  that 
1  here  speak  of  my  father  ;  Init  to  appreciate  his  departure  from  all  that 
had  governed  his  thought  and  action  before  he  gave  in  his  adhesion  to  the 
West,  it  is  needed  to  know  wh.it  were  those  restraining  influences  from 
which  his  own  far-sightetl  mind,  and  his  own  will,  liftetl  him  into  the  higher 
and  broader  outlook  for  our  future  as  a  completed  nation. 

His  father,  English  and  of  reserved  and  scholarly  nature,  was  out  of  his 
element  in  the  new  Republic,  having  come  to  it  from  his  student-life  as  pri- 
vate secretary  to  Governor  Tryon,  the  last  of  the  royal  governors  of  North 
Carolina.     His  natural  preference  was  for  settled  usages  and  a  life  confined 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  OF  SENATOR  BENTON.  3 

to  his  family  and  his  cherished  library.  This  was  in  five  languages,  and 
he  was  at  home  in  all  five,  Greek  and  Latin  and  French  and  Spanish ; 
while  the  English  portion  was  rich  in  fine  editions  of  the  best  works. 
Shakspere,  Don  Quixote,  and  Madame  de  Sevigne  we  read  in  the  origi- 
nals as  my  grandfather  and  father  had,  from  this  treasure  for  a  new  country. 

Governor  Tryon  had  also  brought  over  in  his  suite  a  chaplain,  a  man 
ol  hifh  character  and  of  the  same  cultivated  mind  as  my  grandfather.  In 
the  increasing  and  angry  agitation  of  the  coming  separation  from  the 
mother-country,  these  two  men,  already  close  friends,  found  in  each  other 
increasing  harmony  of  feeling  and  mutual  support.  It  soon  came  to  be 
the  strongest  earthly  support  to  my  grandfather. 

He  luul  married  into  another  English  family  of  colonial  governors,  as 
my  grandmother,  Anne  Gooch,  was  the  only  child  of  a  younger  brother 
of  Sir  William  Gooch,  who  replaced  Lord  Dunmore  as  deputy- gover- 
nor in  his  absence  from  his  post  in  Virginia.  New  York  had  a  more 
"loyal"  atmosphere  than  Richmond,  and  both  Lord  Dunmore  and  Gov- 
f^rnor  Tryon  were  chiefly  there  during  the  closing  period  of  English  rule. 
Their  official  families  bore  for  them  the  brunt  of  the  rising  storm,  and,  like 
true  men,  became  only  the  more  de\oted  to  their  country,  for  which  they 
suffered. 

With  the  end  of  colonial  rule  came  the  end  of  scholarly  rest  and  se- 
clusion for  my  grandfather.  The  need  for  larger  provision  for  many 
viiiinii-  children  turned  him  westward,  and  leavinsf  them  in  their  North 
Carolina  home,  he  led  a  surveying  party  of  sixteen  men,  the  first  to  make 
surveys  in  Kentucky. 

Already  his  health  was  giving  way  under  the  inroads  of  pulmonary 
disease,  which  at  that  date  was  accepted  as  a  death-sentence,  and  sub- 
mitted to  as  inevitable.  Doubtless  the  survej'-work  in  the  open  air,  the 
change  of  thoughts,  and  a  new  aim  in  life  gained  for  him  a  reprieve,  and 
h<'  ])crsevered  until  he  had  secured  large  landed  property,  but  soon  after 
his  return  to  North  Carolina  died  there,  asking  of  his  faithful  friend,  the 
chaplain,  that  overlooking  care  for  his  family  which  he  could  no  longer 
give  them.     And  faithfully  was  this  charge  kept. 

It  is  from  my  father  himself  that  I  know  what  followed. 

He  was  but  eight  years  of  age  th<Mi,  and  there  were  six  other  children, 
H(?  had  not  seen  his  mother  during  her  long  illness  after  his  father's 
death,  and  when  at  length  he  was  taken  in  to  her  he  was  struck  with  awe 
and  terror.  In  place  of  the  young  mother  he  knew,  with  bright  brown 
hair  crowning  her  stately  head,  and  health  and  animation  lighting  her  blue 
eyes,  he  saw  a  thin,  white-faced,  white-haired  woman,  who  put  his  hand 
on  that  of  a  baby-girl,  and  told  him  that  he  was  now  the  head  of  the  fam- 
ily, the  eldest  son,  and  must  be  her  help  in  taking  care  of  the  others. 


II: 
if 

!      i 


4  MEMOIRS  OF  MY  IJFE-JOHN  ClfARLKS  FREMONT. 

"  When  I  came  out  I  rushed  into  the  grove,  and  tliere,  with  cries  and 
tears,  I  made  7i'ar  on  rnyself  wn'iA  I  could  accept  that  ghost  in  place  of  nu" 
own  mother." 

There  the  chaplain  found  him.  He  had  looked  for  him  there,  I  am 
sure.  Knowing  the  boy's  vitality,  his  strong  affections,  and  his  powerful, 
self-reliant  will,  he  must  have  felt  that  it  was  only  to  Nature  he  would  turn 
in  this  his  first  contest  with  the  inevitable. 

Coming  back  from  chapel  the  Sunday  following  this  memorable  day, 
the  chaplain  led  him  by  the  hand  through  the  grove,  and  taking  a  little 
Greek  Testament  from  his  pocket,  read  to  him  a  verse,  making  him  repeat 
it  correctly  as  he  pronounced  it  after  him.  then  giving  him  the  meaning, 
and  so  continuing  the  oral  lesson  until  they  neared  the  house.  It  was  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount,  and  his  first  lesson  in  Greek  was  the  blessing  on 
"  they  that  mourn,"  with  its  promise  that  "  they  shall  l)e  comforted." 

These  lessons  in  Greek,  and  in  Latin  also,  were  continued  faithfully  by 
the  crue  friend.  Fair  instruction,  of  the  ordinary  kind,  was  given  him  at  a 
good  college  school ;  but  his  true  education  was  from  the  chaplain,  from 
his  mother,  and  through  the  fine  library  of  his  father.  From  its  great  fo- 
lios of  '•  Knglish  State  Trials"  my  father  had  his  first  law  lessons,  his 
mother  interesting  him  in  them  by  choosing  the  narrative  portions,  and 
giving  him  the  needed  links  of  information,  then  drawing  from  him  his  im- 
pressions in  discussion  on  the  readings.  The  wise  mother  made  these 
readings  a  reward,  and  prevented  any  undue  influence  of  such  large  ideas 
by  encouraging  the  wholesome  out-door  life  which  the  four  brothers,  with 
Iiorse,  dog,  and  gun,  made  for  themselves. 

The  mouldin^r  influence  of  this  uncommon  woman  was  too  life-lonp-  and 
ennobling  for  her  to  be  omitted  from  a  just  account  of  my  father.  From 
her  example  and  her  teaching  he  was  trained  to  industry,  to  truth,  cour- 
age, and  justice — a  good  woman's  sense  of  justice,  which  includes  mercy  ; 
which  causes  jus'-ice  to  be  thorough  by  making  action  follow  conviction  ; — 
to  that  moral  courage  which  sustains  and  defends  conviction  ;  above  all  to 
the  succor  and  protection  of  the  weak  and  oppressed.  Those  who  know 
my  father's  public  life  will  recognize  tlu^sc  underlying  forces. 

In  the  brief  memoranda  for  a  biographical  notice  made  by  himself  when 
nearing  his  certain  and  painful  death  ;  in  recalling  what  then  seemed  best 
worth  recording,  there  comes  first  the  grateful  tribute  to  his  Mother. 
Then,  the  fact  that,  when  in  the  Legislature  of  Tennessee,  he  had  been 
the  author  of  "  a  Inoiianc  laio,  still  on  her  statute-books,  giving  to  slaves 
the  full  ben'^fit  of  jury  trial  which  was  the  right  of  white  men  under  the 
same  accusation."  This  originated  in  the  case  of  a  slave-woman  accused 
of  murder,  for  whom  he  volunteered  as  counsel,  and  defended  her  success- 
fully on  arguments  which  Maudsly  has  put  in  use  to-day. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  OF  SENATOR  BENTON. 


all  to 
know- 


In  his  young  time,  in  a  Southern  country,  this  was  a  brave  outcome  of 
the  active  sense  of  justice  which  a  woman  had  taught  him  to  feel  for  all 
women,  even  those  "despised  of  men."' 

When  he  was  sixteen  they  removed  to  Tennessee,  to  their  large 
landed  property  near  Nashville,  which  the  father's  forethought  had  se- 
cured for  his  young  family.  There  they  commenced  cotton-planting.  My 
Father  and  his  three  brothers,  with  the  head-negroes,  went  out  one  fine 
night  to  make  a  final  survey  of  the  ripened  crop  which  lay  white  and  beau- 
tiful in  the  moonlight.  The  next  day  found  it  blackened  by  frost,  and 
with  it  withered  all  the  plans  founded  on  its  sale.  This  decided  my  Father 
against  planting,  as  "a  pursuit  of  which  he  could  not  influence  the  re- 
sults." 

And  he  turned  to  the  study  of  law,  keeping  at  the  same  time  an  active 
supervision  of  the  estate,  the  family,  and  the  safety  of  their  little  colony. 
For  from  the  southern  border  of  "  the  Widow  Benton's  estate,"  through  to 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  was  unbroken  and  warlike  Indian  territory.  And  lead- 
ing directly  through  their  lands  was  the  war-trail  of  neighboring  Indian 
tribes. 

He  was  admitted  early  to  practice,  and  soon  had  the  friendship  of  Gen- 
eral Jackson  among  other  important  settlers.  Later,  when  a  member  of 
the  General  Assembly  of  the  State,  he  was  the  author  of  the  Judicial  Re- 
iorm  Act,  by  which  the  administration  of  justice  was  relieved  of  much  delay, 
expense,  and  inconvenience  to  all  concerned.  This  too,  came  from  the 
home  readings  and  discussions,  and  was  an  effort  to  combine  justice  with 
law. 

Then  came  the  war  of  1S12,  when,  enlisting  under  Jackson  who  was 
major-general  of  the  Tennessee  militia,  he  made  the  march  to  the  defence 
of  the  lower  Mississippi  which  was  to  radically  alter  his  plan  of  life,  and 
lead  to  great  good  for  our  whole  country. 

Doubtless,  in  leaving  North  Carolina,  his  mother  had  had  fresh  grief  in 
parting  from  all  the  visible  memories  of  her  happy  time.  But  she  was  not 
of  the  women  who  vainly  look  back,  or  make  their  lament  aloud  ;  the  one 
blow  that  struck  the  color  from  her  life,  as  from  her  hair,  killed  all  personal 
interest  in  living  ;  leaving  her  only  for  duty  and  protecting  love  for  her  chil- 
dren. This,  and  the  many  cares  of  a  Southern  household  of  old  days,  the 
newer  conditions  of  the  large  estate,  and  the  obligations  of  neighborhood 
in  a  new  country,  she  was  faithful  to. 

But  there  came  a  time  when  her  love  and  protection  could  not  avail  her 
children.  They  all  grew  up  apparently  full  of  health  and  fine  promise  ;  but 
tivc  of  the  eight  died,  as  their  father  had  died,  of  rapid  consumption.  "  The 
Grave  of  the  Three  Sisters  "  is  still  a  known  landmark  near  Nashville, 
although  a  great  tree  has  grown  up  in  the  enclosure,  and  pardy  uprooted 


ip 


6  MEMOIRS  or  MY  T.IFE—JOUX  CHARLES  ERflMOXT. 

its  stone  walls  and  the  family  grave-stones  ;  the  burial-place  of  their  slaves 
— hanl-by,  as  was  the  custom — remains  comparatively  undisturbed. 

When  my  father  found  himself  or.  the  same  sad  downward  road  -when 
constant  fever,  the  liacking  couyh,  and  restless  nights  and  days  without 
energy  admonished  him  that  his  turn  had  come,  he  felt  despair.  "If  it 
had  been  a  battle  I  would  have  had  a  chance,  or  even  in  a  desperate  duel, 
but  for  this  there  was  no  chance.     All  was  fi.xed  and  inevitable." 

The  war  coming  then  he  haikd  the  occasion  to  end  his  life  in  action 
rather  than  in  the  slow  progress  of  a  fatal  illness. 

As  we  have  seen  in  our  late  war,  whole  neighborhoods  of  young  men 
went  out  together,  and  distinctions  of  private;  and  officer  were  only  used 
when  on  duty.  "  Sam  "  Houston  was  a  corporal  in  the  regiment  of  which 
my  father  was  colonel,  and  when  they  were  in  the  Senate  together  the 
ex-President  of  Texas  often  signed  himself  "  Your  friend  and  old  sicb- 
alicrii.' 

Some  of  the  young  men  were  not  so  practised  in  walking  as  my  Father, 
and  he  lent  them  his  horses,  himself  going  on  foot.  Of  course  they  carried 
but  little  baggage,  and  he  supplied  the  want  of  fresh  ciothing  by  constant 
baths  in  the  running  waters  of  streams  by  the  way,  drying  the  skin  in 
sunshine.  This,  with  the  abundant  exercise  which  opened  the  pores  and 
threw  off  fevered  conditions,  the  sleep  in  open  air,  the  simple  regular  food, 
all  combined  to  bring  about  such  changes  that  hope  came  to  him.  His 
own  observations  taught  him  how  to  follow  up  these  indications  of  possible 
health  ;  and,  in  brief,  seventy  years  ago  my  father  found  for  himself  the 
way  out  of  inherited  conditions  of  pulmonary  disease  by  the  same  means 
so  successfully  ordered  in  our  present  time — open  air,  night  and  day  ; 
abundant  perspiration  from  steady  exercise  ;  bathing  and  rubbing,  always 
if  possible  in  sunshine  ;  always,  all  the  sunshine  possible  ;  simple  food 
regularly  taken  ;  and  "  (o  forget  yourself  in  some  pursuit." 

All  his  life  my  father  needed  to  keep  as  close  to  these  rules  as  circum- 
stances permitted.  The  continued  use  of  his  voice  in  speaking  in  public 
was  prepared  for  by  silence  for  days  previous  and  was  almost  sure  to  be 
followed  by  flecks  of  blood  from  the  throat,  but  his  self  control  gained  him 
the  superb  health  which  was  so  great  a  factor  in  his  usefulness. 

The  English  did  not  come  so  soon  as  they  w-ere  looked  for,  and  when 
General  Jackson  returned  to  Tennessee  my  father  applied  for  active  service, 
and  was  commissioned  by  President  Madison  a  Lieutenant-Colonel  of  the 
regular  army  (39th  Infantry)  and  was  sent  to  Canada  on  his  first  duty. 

What  he  saw  there  of  the  antagonism  of  French  and  English  added  to 
his  interest  in  the  people  of  the  "  Louisiana  purchase,"  whose  French  set- 
tlers were  both  grieved  and  angered  by  their  abrupt  transfer  to  their  tra- 
ditional enemy ;  for  they  cared  little  about  other  differences  where  Ian- 


1 


-ih 


iiii      ' 


lUOGRAPHfCAL  SKETCH  OF  SENATOR  BENTON. 


self  the 
means 
1  day  ; 
always 
e  food 


d  when 

service, 
el  of  the 

luty. 
Klded  to 

nch  set- 
their  tra- 
lere  lan- 


jTuage,  laws,  and  religion  were  those  they  were  accustomed  to  hate  as 
"  English." 

When  peace  was  declared  my  father  resigned  from  the  army  pnd  estab- 
lished his  new  home  at  Saint  Louis.  There  was  no  further  change.  The 
winter  home  was  in  Washington,  where  his  thirty  years  in  the  Senate  matle 
a  home  of  our  own  a  necessity.  But  my  grandmother  remained  at  tlie 
Saint  Louis  house  always  ;  with  her  own  old  servants  and  some  young 
grandchildren — children  of  another  son  whose  health  could  not  brave  the 
Saint  Louis  winters — beautiful  and  unusually  fine  children  who  gave  young 
life  about  the  house  before  our  day,  and  of  whom  one  has  always  been  like 
a  dear  elder  sister.  When  I  was  in  Englaml  in  '51,  my  father  in  writing 
to  me  of  the  death  of  my  only  brother,  says — "  Your  cousin  Sarah  has  been 
constantly  with  us.  Her  face,  always  lovely  to  me,  has  been  that  of  an 
angel." 

While  in  the  army  my  father  made  the  friendship  with  General  James 
Preston  of  Virginia  which  led  to  what  he  held  to  be  the  crowning  good 
fortune  of  his  life — his  marriage  to  my  mother,  who  was  the  niece  of  Gen- 
eral Preston.  It  was  his  singular  good  fortune  to  have  both  in  his  mother 
and  his  wife  friends  an""!  sharers  in  his  largest  ideas,  while  every  soothing 
charm  of  a  well-ordered  home  came  as  second  nature  from  my  mother's 
influence.  To  him  home  brought  the  strength  of  peace  and  repose,  and 
he  never  suffered  the  outside  public  atmosphere  of  strife  to  enter  there. 

"  Peace  and  lionor  charmed  tnc  air." 

.And  in  its  warmth  long-closed  memories  bloomed  anew.  Some  trouble  in 
tuning  a  guitar  was  making  one  of  my  sisters  impatient,  "  Bring  it  to  me," 
spoke  my  father  from  his  table  covered  with  books  and  work.  We 
looked  on  while  with  strong  but  light  and  skilful  touch  he  turned  the 
pegs,  and  tuned  it  perfectly,  trying  a  few  chords.  The  sight  of  "  Father 
])laying  the  guitar  "  made  an  outcry  from  the  youngest,  but  we  elder  girls 
felt  we  must  not  speak  ;  when  he  himself,  handing  it  back,  and  doubtless 
seeing  some  pitying  tiniderness  of  look  in  us,  said  gently — "  I  often 
tuned  their  guitar  for  my  sisters,  and  sang  with  them  "-and  to  one  of  us, 
"  You  are  like  the  youngest."  Of  his  brothers  we  had  had  many  and 
many  a  hunting  story,  and  knew  their  dogs  liy  name,  and  the  gray  horse 
which  must  have  had  a  troubled  life  among  them,  but  of  the  sisters  this 
was  all  he  ever  said.  But  we  knew  they  made  the  hidden  source  of  his 
unfailing  gentleness  to  all  women.  My  grandmother  lived  to  past  eighty, 
in  fullest  clearness  of  mind  sharing  and  aiding  her  son's  life ;  and  except 
for  his  needed  absences  in  Washington  they  had  no  separations.  They 
rest  together  near  Saint  Louis  by  the  Great  River — mother  and  son — and 
around  them  are  their  children  to  the  third  and  fourth  generations. 


fl 


Hi 


8  AfFMOIRS  OF  MY  I.ll'E—JOJFV  CJfARLF.S  FR/iMONT. 

Saint  Louis  was  in  1817,  when  my  father  established  himself  there, 
only  a  village  in  numbers,  but  it  had  a  large  and  stirring  life  and  great 
interests  which  found  their  outlet  and  pathway  to  the  sea  down  the  Mis- 
sissippi. It  was  like  a  port  on  the  border  of  its  vast  dimly  known  In- 
dian country,  with  its  business  extending  deep  into  Mexico  and  through 
to  Sonora  and  the  Gulf  of  California  ;  and  across  the  Rocky  Mountains 
into  Oregon  to  the  Pacific  Ocean.  The  armed  caravans  of  merchandise 
crossing  this  dangerland  encountered  not  only  the  perils  from  savages 
intent  on  plunder,  but  the  jealous  capricious  interferences  of  Spanish 
policy  ;  while  the  small  army  of  hunters  and  trappers  and  traders  and 
voyas^enrs  belonging  with  the  American  I'ur  Company  had  \\\  addition  to 
the  Indians  to  meet  the  covert  but  powerful  hostility  of  the  Hudson  Bay 
Fur  Company,  and  consequent  collision  with  English  policy.  The  whole 
condition  of  loss  to  us  and  increasing  gain  and  strength  to  England  com- 
ing from  the  joint-occupation  of  the  Columbia;  the  resulting  loss  of  life 
and  driving  out  of  the  American  Fur  trade ;  the  increasing  settlements  of 
English  subjects  fostered  by  their  government  and  encouraged  to  hold  the 
land  made  the  situation  my  father  found  governing  Saint  Louis. 

Fresh  from  his  military  life  he  found  himself  confronting  English  ag- 
gression in  another  form.  The  little  French  town  so  far  in  the  centre  of 
our  continent  found  itself  direct  heir  to  the  duel  of  a  century  between 
England  and  France  for  the  New  \\\)rld  and  the  Asiatic  trade,  and, 
France  having  withdrawn,  was  meeting  the  added  resentment  of  English 
feeling  against  her  late  subjects,  who  now  replaced  France  in  that  contest. 
The  few  years  intervening'  between  his  arrival  among  them  and  his  being 
sent  in  1821  to  represent  them  as  their  first  Senator,  gave  my  father  time 
to  learn  fully  their  interests,  and  the  sources  of  information  were  unusual 
and  each  of  the  highest  value. 

The  venerable  General  Clarke,  who  had  under  Jefferson  first  explored 
Oregon  and  the  Columbia,  was  ending  his  days  c^uietly  but  in  large  use- 
fulness in  Saint  Louis.  He  was  the  chief  Superintendent  of  all  western 
Indians,  a  post  in  which  his  experience  and  high  character  gave  the  best 
results  to  the  Indians  as  well  as  to  our  Government.  Much  of  what  now 
belongs  with  the  Indian  Bureau  and  Department  of  the  Interior  was  thus 
in  his  control,  even  the  making  of  treaties.  General  Clarke  had  married 
a  connection  of  my  mother's,  and  there  was  a  family  and  neighborly  inti- 
macy between  the  two  homes.  All  that  one  mind  can  take  from  that  of 
another  who  has  had  the  advantage  of  seeing,  my  father  gathered  from 
General  Clarke  in  regard  to  his  exploration.  And  of  the  evils  growing 
out  of  the  permitted  joint-occupation  ;  a  permission  fast  growing  into  a 
right  of  possession,  and  already  harassing  and  excluding  American  set- 
tlers. 


I 


M 
1 


I 


!  ! 


BIOCRAI'IIICAI.  SKI'.TCll  OF  SKXATOR  BENTON. 


there, 
great 

Mis- 
irn  In- 
rough 
ntains 
indise 
Lvages 
panish 
■s   and 
tion  to 
n  Bay 

whole 
d  com- 

of  life 
jnts  of 
old  the 

ish  ag- 
;ntre  of 
jetween 
le,  and, 
l-Lnglish 
contest. 
is  being 
ler  time 
unusual 

xplored 
rge  use- 
western 
the  best 
lat  now 
vas  thus 
married 
arly  inti- 
that  of 
ed  from 
growing 
g  into  a 
ican  set- 


The  headquarters  of  the  Inir  Company  were  with  the  Chouteaus,  an 
old  French  family  who  had  come  up  from  New  Orleans  for  this  business 
sixty  years  before,  and  remained  there ;  overseeing,  themselves  and 
through  younger  branches,  the  ramified  increasing  business  which  en- 
riched them  and  gave  profitable  employment  to  so  many  adventurous  men. 
From  these  all — the  heads  of  the  House  to  the  last  arrived  voyaj^eur — my 
father  eagerly  and  perseveringly  gleaned  information,  and  gained  grounds 
for  his  maturing  resolve  to  carry  out  Jefferson's  plan  of  overland  commu- 
nication with  the  .Asiatic  countries,  and  to  hold  for  ourselves  the  port  on 
the  Pacific  which  was  its  ke)-  ;  and  for  this  to  end  the  impossible  condi- 
tion of  combined  use  of  our  Oregon  territory.  Mr.  Jefferson  had  scorned 
this  idea  when  applied  to  the  Mississippi.  He  would  not  even  refer  to 
the  .Senate  the  treaty  containing  this  provision.  What  would  the  English 
not  have  made  of  "  irca/y-rii^h/s"  for  "free  navi(^ation  of  the  Mississippi 
a>id  access  to  it  through  the  territories  of  the  (  iiited  States"  which  was 
their  renewed  attempt  at  Ghent  in  1S14. 

I'rom  the  Pere  Marcjuette  through  to  P'ather  de  Smet,  the  missionarv 
jjriests  of  the  Catholic  Church  had  a  great  part  in  opening  up  our  western 
Indian  country,  and  creating  centres  of  order  and  good  influence  wherever 
they  founded  their  missions.  The  transfer  of  Louisiana  had  been  followed 
by  the  watchful  care  of  their  Church,  which  did  not  abandon  its  Spanish 
and  French  people  to  the  new  conditions,  but  sent  to  them  clergy  of  '  'gh 
dignity  and  governing  minds  who  made  for  them  new  importance  and  en- 
larged advantages.  Special  attention  was  given  to  establishments  for  edu- 
cation. Bishop  Du  Bourg  brought  over  five  Sisters  of  the  Sacred  Heart 
from  the;  famous  mother-house  in  Paris  where  the  daughters  of  royalty  are 
sent  for  training.  These  ladies  were  of  noble  families,  and  their  gentle, 
refined  manners,  their  pure  French  and  accomplishments,  gave  to  the  young 
girls  of  Saint  Louis  the  same  advantages  they  would  have  to-day  at  die 
.Sacrc'-Cceur  in  Paris.  My  father,  who  comprehended  the  power  of  edu- 
cation and  promoted  it  in  all  forms,  was  glad  to  use  this  rare  advantage 
for  his  young  niece.  There  was  an  odd  reason  for  his  constant  pleasant 
intercourse  with  the  Bishop  aside  from  public  causes. 

Those  about  M.  Du  Bourg  were,  like  himself,  French.  He  needed  to 
acquire  fluent  English  for  all  uses,  and  for  use  from  the  pulpit.  It  was  a 
point  of  honor  among  the  older  French  not  to  learn  English — many  never 
did  so  at  all — "  jfe  suis  Fraufais  dc  France  ct  je  parte  via  langucf  they 
would  say,  ignoring  the  need  for  the  other  language  and  looking  down 
with  reprobation  on  their  descendants  born  and  living  contentedly  under 
"  foreign  "  rule,  and  speaking  English.  The  older  people  never  reacted 
from  the  shock  of  anger  and  pain  which  came  to  them,  as  their  simple 
annals  record,  "on  this  gth  of  July,  1803,  at  -j  p.m."  when  they  learned — 


I 


^■^ 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JO  If. X  CHARLES  FKEMOXT. 


indirectly    at    first — that  "  Louisiana  has   l)c<jn   sold  by   Napoleon   to   the 
I'nited  States." 

To  force  himself  into  familiar  practice  the  Hishop  therefor*^  secluded 
himself  for  a  while  with  the  family  of  an  American  farmer,  where  he  would 
hear  no  I'rench.  Soon  he  had  gained  enough  to  announce  a  sermon  in 
Eni^-lisJi,  on  some  occasion  of  irfMu.'ral  interest  which  crowded  the  Cathedral. 
-My  fatlv.  r  was  liiere,  and  as  amonjj;'  other  languages  the  Chaplain  had 
taught  him  a  fastidious  use  of  English,  his  feelings  can  be  imagined  when 
the  polished,  refmed  I'ishoi)  said  to  the  hushed  crowd  : 

"My   h'ic-nds  ;   /  am   ri<^lit-doivn  ^Vr^/ to  see   such    a  sh-nn' c/nincc  o/ 
folks  here  to  da\'." 

What  he  tiiought  to  say  was  the  paternal  gentle  "  MiS  .  hnis,"  "  1  am 
profoundly  happy  to  see  here  such  an  assemblage." 

'I"o  feel  and  to  act  were  one  thing-  with  m)- father,  ami  hi;;  otfered  assist- 
ance l<'i!  to  an  intimac)'  in  which  lie  wa  ■  a  much  tlie  gainer  in  cultivated 
French,  as  was  the  Bisliop  in  equivalent  English. 

!))•  this  time  my  father's  thoughts  were  all  converging  on  the  vital  im- 
port;mce  to  our  new  possession  of  ridding  it  of  English  interference:,  and 
through  the  Bishop,  also,  he  learned  much  bearing  on  his  main  idea.  The 
missionary  priests  re[)orted  tf)  the  lVisho[),  and  their  experience  swelled  the 
evidence  gained  thrcnigh  tlie  Fur  Cotnpany  and  its  employes,  that  the  joint 
occupation  of  the  Columbia  u-as  the  virtual  loss  of  that  part  of  our  territory ; 
that  our  fur  trade  was  already  driven  out  ;  that  Xmerican  settlers  were 
harassed  -many  killed — by  Indians  friemlly  with  the  Mudson  Bay  Com- 
pany ;  and  that  our  Government  was  giving  no  encouragement  or  protec- 
tion to  our  people,  while  in  every  way  fostering  care  was  given  to  English 
settlers  who  were  taking  up  the  land. 

What  to  do  ?  "  There  is  all  the  tlifference  ])ossible  betwetMi  the  man 
who  possesses  his  subject  and  the  man  who  is  possessed  by  it." 

.My  father  became  possessed  by  this  Oregon  question.  He;  luul  that 
fire  of  de\'otion  to  an  idea  which  transmutes  the  thought  ot  many  into 
united  defined  action,  and  his  courage  always  rose  with  obstacles. 

Oregon  was  far,  unfamiliar,  of  no  distinct  interest  to  the  J-Last. 

The  one  man  who  had  foreseen  and  planned  our  ownership  of  its  Pa- 
cific port,  with  the  resulting  gain  of  overland  commerce  from  Asia  peopling 
our  waste  lands  and  enriching  the  whole  country,  was  not  then  in  power. 
After  his  many  years  of  extraordinary  services  Mr.  Jefferson  was  ending 
his  days  in  much  care  from  fortune  lost  while  serving  his  country  and  neg- 
lecting his  own  interests.  To  him,  at  his  mountain  home  in  \''irginia,  my 
father  made  a  visit  the  Christmas  of  1824;  he  felt  it  a  pilgrimage.  The 
commonplace  topic  of  the  bad  roads  was  lifted  by  the  mind  of  genius  into 
a  talk  which  became  the  link  in  a  chain  of  national  progress ;  a  talk  into 


n 


i 


a 

i 


KIOllRArmcM.  SKF.rcll  01-  sr.XATOR  liF.XTON. 


II 


the 


rir.1 


^neli'^l^ 


its  Pa- 
peoplinj^- 

power. 

(Gliding 
and  neij^- 
dnia,  my 
re.  The 
nius  into 
talk  into 


whicli  tlicre  came  an  unconscious  touch  of  pain  uhicii  will  ilnd  echo  in 
.\nierican  hearts  as  unworthy  to  have  been  inllicted  on  that  noble  niirid. 
I'Voin  the  local  road  they  came  to  speak  of  the  need  for  national  aid  to 
roads  for  the  spread  of  our  people  westward. 

Mv  father,  having,''  now  the;  vanta.ije  ground  of  the  Senate,  was  cndcav- 
orin"-  to  'n.-x  for  those  of  his  constituents  whose  business  led  them  iriLo 
"\Ie.\ican  traile  as  far  as  to  tlu;  •'  Sea  of  Cortez  "  (the  old  name  for  ilu; 
(iulf  of  California),  a  right  of  way  in  Me.xico,  and  consecjuent  protection 
by  both  rc|)ublics.  This  was  meeting  op])Osition  on  the  pe'rennial  objcc- 
lion  of  "  creating'  a  prc.-ceilent."  Mr.  Jcfierson  said  this  objection  would  be 
disposed  of  b\'  a  similar  road  made  in  the  closing  year  ol  his  administra- 
tion, lie  said  there  couUl  be  fouml  in  the  I, library  of  Congress  a  manu- 
script copy  of  this  map  bound  up  in  a  volume  of  maps,  formerly  his  own. 

"  I-'ormerly  !  "  Could  not  iho  repres(;ntatives  of  that  people  who  ow<  d 
so  much  to  him  haxc  gi\cn  him  ihc  pilihil  price  th(;y  paid  lor  his  library 
,.iul  lull  it  with  him,  undisturbed,  to  console  the  few  remaining  years  of  Ids 
old  age  ami  poverty  ? 

"The  sympathies  of  the  American  people  are  instantaneous,  and  ali\(; 
to  anv  deeds  of  merit  brought  to  their  notice.      Hut  the  conscience  of  the 
people  of  this  country  is  not  in  their  own  keeping.      It  is  a  deh.'gated  con 
science." 

Mr.  Jefferson's  intention  to  secure  for  his  country  the  Asiatic  trade  by 
an  overlanil  route  across  our  continent  so  directly  gcn'erned  the  three  lives 
writtep.  of  in  this  book  that  I  give  here  to  this  [loint  some  detail,  thougli 
nothin;'-  belitting  his  foresight  ami  perseverance. 

Px'fore  the  American  captain,  Captain  Gray  of  Boston,  had  actually 
found  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia,  in  1790,  Jefferson,  then  our  Minister  to 
[•"ranee,  met  in  Paris  the  English  traveller  Ltxlyard,  who  was  about  to  ex- 
plore the  Nile.  Mr.  Jefferson  turned  Idm  from  this  to  what  both  felt  to  l)e 
a  fresher  and  more  useful  field  of  discovery.  I  have  listened  to  such  talks  ; 
and  can  fancy  the  fascination  to  the  l)orn  explorer  in  listening  to  Jefferson's 
theory  that  the  snow-clad  Rocky  Mountains,  which  shed  their  waters  to 
the  east  in  sucli  a  mighty  stream  as  the  Missouri,  must  have  a  correspond- 
ing water-shed  and  great  river  to  the  west.  No  explorer  had  trod  its 
banks,  no  navigator  found  its  mouth  ;  but  where  Jefferson  thought  such  a 
river  should  be,  is  the  Columbia. 

Jelferson  obtained  for  Ledyard  the  passport  which  carried  him  to  Saint 
Petersburg,  where  he  received  the  permission  of  the  Empress  Catherine 
to  traverse  her  dominions  in  a  high  northern  latitude  to  their  eastern  ex- 
tremity ;  then  he  would  cross  the  sea  from  Khamschatka,  or  at  Behring's 
Straits ;  and,  descending  the  northwest  coast  of  America,  come  down  the 
river  which  they  were  certain  must  have  its  head  opposite  that  of  the  Mis- 


13 


MEMOIRS  or  .1/1    lirr.    JOllX  CHARLF.S  PRfiMOXT. 


soiiri :  ascrnd  it  to  its  source  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  then  follow  the 
Missouri  to  the  I'rench  settlements  of  the  Upper  Mississippi,  thence  home. 

By  what  petty  intrii^nie,  o"  whose  small  mind  overthrew  such  a  grand 
plan  we  cannot  know  very  s  all  causes  aid  to  tleterminc?  the  fate  of  oreat 
events  -l)ut  all  the  large  thougnt  of  Jefferson,  the  ent(;rprise  of  Led\ard, 
and  the  intelligent  co-operi^f  n  of  the  Empress  Catherine  were  defeatc.'d 
^vhen  Ledyard,  who  had  already  reached  Siberia,  was  overtaken  by  an 
ordf-r  revoking  his  pfrniis-,ion,  and  conducted  back  "  as  a  spy  "  out  of 
Kus  ^ia. 

The  Nile  exploration  was  resumed;  to  end  in  the  early  death  of  the 
enthusiastic  young  explorer. 

When,  as  President  he  had  the  power,  Mr.  Jefferson  renewed  his  plan, 
and  jirojected  the  PLxpedition  of  Lewis  and  Clarke ;  and  having  obtainiMJ 
the  consent  of  Congress,  sent  them  to  discover  the  head  and  course  of  the 
river,  whos(  mouth  was  then  known  ;  giving  to  Congress  in  his  message 
the  reason  that  this  would  "  opoi  ovcrlaiid  (Oiiinicrcial  relations  ivith  .Isia  ; 
and  enlarge  the  boundaries  of  geographical  science  " — putting  as  the  first 
motive  a  Xorth-American  road  to  Iiulia,  and  the  introduction  of  Asiatic 
trade  over  that  road.  What  proud  emotion  must  lia\e  filled  him  when  he 
secured  from  I'Vance  our  ownership  of  that  vast  "  Louisiana  purchase" — 
the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  and  tht;  mouth  of  the  Mississippi,  and  all  the 
lands  thf.'y  drained  throughout  their  mighty  length  !  When  in  an  l^nglish 
treatv  a  clause  was  inserted  providing  free  na\igation  on  the  [Mississippi 
and  access  through  our  territories  to  it  President  Jefferson  would  not  even 
refer  it  to  the  Senate  but  suppressed  it  himself.  Here  again  was  the  same 
intention  to  regain  something  of  the  lost  power  over  us,  to  acquire  such 
hold  in  Oregon  as  would  enable  her  to  keep  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia, 
and  add  that  port  on  the  Pacific  to  those  of  Gibraltar,  Malta,  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope,  and  her  other  such  outposts. 

The  story  of  varying  intrigiics,  now  bold,  now  crafty,  is  long,  but  it 
was  now  with  her  own  children  she  was  dealing,  and  with  men  who  had 
/i'//  the  war  of  the  revolution  and  that  of  1812,  and  who  had  not  laid 
their  armor  by,  and  were  read}'  lo  resist  any  further  attempts  at  dominion. 
My  father  was  a  man  grown  when  the  Mississippi  and  the  Columbia 
were  French  property  and  Saint  Louis  and  New  Orleans  French  ports. 
Although  so  bred  and  tutored  in  English  feeling  and  knowledge,  yet  there 
lay  all  about  him  the  atmosphere  of  our  successful  rebellion  against  unjust 
abuse  of  power,  and  the  going  to  Tennessee  had  opened  his  mind  to  still 
more  American  impressions  of  self-reliance  and  thought.  The  military 
episode  which  gave  him  back  health,  and  revealed  to  him  the  future  of  the 
West,  brought  also  reliance  on  his  own  will.  He  had  found  it  could  con- 
trol the  issues  of  life  and  death  ;  he  came  back  to  the  new  life  conscious  of 


f 

I 


# 


THOMAS  JEFFERSON. 


'"T^ 


i^ 


'ii  1 


JSIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  OF  SENATOR  BENTON. 


13 


an  ally  within  himself  on  which  he  could  surely  rely— his  own  will.  And 
in  his  work  to  make  secure  our  Pacific  outlet  that  will  never  faltered,  but 
r<-ained  strength  from  opposition,  and  expanded  with  the  greatness  of  the 

object. 

In  1813,  while  this  new  life  was  coming  to  my  father,  there  began, 
a""ain  on  the  eastern  sea-coast,  another  life  which  was  to  be  in  alliance 
with  his  ;  to  carry  forward  and  enlarge  his  plans  ;  and  to  seize  opportunity 
to  bring  them  to  a  higher  and  more  grand  realization  than  one  life  alone 
could  compass. 

The  renewal  ol  the  joint-occupation  of  the  Columbia  had  effectually  dis- 
couraged American  enterprise,  and  infused  new  life  into  the  English  occu- 
pation ;  their  encroachments  were  continued  in  various  forms,  now  open, 
now  covert ;  they  even  built  upon  the  Columbia  River  a  cordon  of  forts 
ostensibly  for  "  defence  "  against  Indians,  who  were  in  reality  allies  of  tlie 
Hudson  Bay  Company,  and  made  fur-trading  and  trapping  impossible  to 
Americans. 

Every  measure  proposed  by  their  western  friends  for  protection  was  met 
by  opposition,  curious  to  read  to-day.  l^ven  so  late  as  '43  the  ignorance, 
the  indifference,  the  blindness  to  the  value  of  our  Pacific  territory— the 
heedless  inattention  to  the  evidence  of  living  history  as  to  England's  per- 
tinacious designs  on  that  coast,  is  shown  in  the  debates  on  every  bill.  On 
one  giving  lands  to  settlers,  w'hile  a  Senator  from  Ohio  (then  a  very  v.cst- 
ern  State),  Mr.  'I'appan,  supported  the  measure  and  said  50,000  scttli'rs 
with  their  50,000  rifles  shouUl  be  given  lands  to  coIoniz(;  thii  banks  of  the 
Oregon,  there  was  open  expression  that  this  would  give  offence  to  England, 
and  the  vote  to  strike  out  the  land-donation  clause  was  very  close,  24  to  22. 

Allen  of  Ohio  led  the  vote  in  favor  of  lands  for  colonists. 

Yias  :  Allen,  Benton,  Buchanan,  Clayton,  Inilton,  Henderson,  King, 
Eir.n,  McRoberfs,  Maji  ;um,  Merrick,  Phelps,  Sevier,  Smith  of  Connecticut, 
Smith  of  Iniliana,  Stur.^con,  'iappan.  Walker,  White,  W'ilcox,  Williams, 
Woodbury,  Wright,  Young. 

Nays:  Archer,  liagby,  Barrow,  Bates,  i^ayard,  Berrien,  Calhoun, 
Choate,  Conrad,  Crai>s,  Dayton,  Iv/ans,  Graham,  Huntington,  McDuiiie, 
Miller,  Porter,  Ki\es,  Simmons,  Sprague,  Tallmadge,  Woodbridge. 

They  could  not  get  the  }^ouse  to  act  upon  the  bill,  but  this  vote  ^f 
the  .Senate  encouraged  the  Wei.t,  and  they  went  forward  and  planted  the 

my  which  forced  the  stand  against  Englantl  that  our  Congress  had  been 
unwilling  to  make.  The  debate  is  too  long  for  this  [i.aper,  but  belon--.  in 
the  book  as  part  of  the  ground  for  the  explorations  and  other  acts  for  our 
national  as  well  as  for  our  western  benefits.  It  is  strange  to-day  to  see  how 
our  Government  refusetl  its  own  greai;  property  ;  on  what  grounds  it  left  it 
to  Ijiglantl  and,  with  some,  how  it^  was  hcorned  .uid  regretted  as  a  jjossession. 


14 


MFAIOIKS  OF  MV  l.llE—JOJfX  CIIMU.F.S  FRFMOXT. 


I  ill 


:[ 


Mr.  McDiittu!  of  South  Carolina  openly  regretted  we  owned  it ;  that  it  was 
"  worthless  except  a  mere  strip  along  the  sea-coast--  the  rest,  mountains 
almost  inaccessible,  and  lowlands  covered  with  stone  and  volcanic  remains  ; 
vihere  rain  never  falls  except  duriny  the  spring-,  and  even  on  the  coast  no 
r:;in  falls  from  April  to  October,  antl  for  the  remainder  of  the  year  there  i:i 
ufjthinci-  but  rain.     Why,  sir,  of  what  use  will  this  be  for  agricultural  pur- 


poses  .'  I  would  not  for  that  purpose  give  a  pinch  of  snuff  for  the  who'e 
territory.  I  wish  to  God  we  did  not  own  it.  .  .  .  Who  are  we  to  send 
there?  Do  ycu  think  honest  fanners  in  Pennsylvania,  New  York,  or  even 
Ohio  and  Missouri,  will  abandon  their  farms  to  go  upon  any  such  enterprise 
as  that  ?  God  forl)id  !  If  any  man  who  is  to  go  to  that  countrj*  under  the 
temptations  of  this  bill  was  my  child  ii  he  was  an  honest,  industrious  man, 
I  would  say  to  him,  for  God's  sake  do  not  go  there.  .  .  .  But  if  I  had 
a  son  whose  conduct  was  such  as  made  him  a  fit  subject  for  I^otany  Bay,  I 
would  say  to  him  in  th('  name  of  Gotl,  go." 

And  further  that  luigland  would  be  oftended  and  forcetl  into  war  "  i'l 
defence  of  hi-r  rights  and  her  honor." 

Mr.  Calhoun  was  as  strongly  opjioscd  to  the  bill  as  his  colleague,  though 
liis  keen  intelligence  made  him  see  "the  value  of  the  territory  and  the  com- 
mercial advantages  in  communicating  v,ith  China  and  Japan  which  should 
not  be  lost."  He  lakes  an  admirable  far-sighted  view  of  this.  But  he  too 
thiiiks  the  danger  of  war  too  great,  and  the  possession  so  remote  that 
v.e  could  not  meet  the  difnculty  and  expense  of  defending  it.  Me  thinks 
"  Time  "  is  our  best  ally,  and  "  a  wise  ami  masterly  inactivity." 

Mn-  father  admitt-  d  that  England  would  take  offence,  ;uid  that  it  was 
her  intention  to  do  so  M'hate\er  we  might  d.o.  But  that  was  not  the  ques- 
tion. I  latl  she  the  77';'///  to  t;ike  offence  ?  It  was  agreed  she  had  not. 
Then,  he  was  for  going  forward  0:1  our  ridits,  and  not  taking  counsel  of 
fear.  "  Neither  nations  nor  individ.uals  ever  escaped  danger  by  fearing  it. 
They  must  face  it  and  defy  it." 

Mr.  Nicollet,  a  French  astronomer  and  savant  of  distinction,  who  had 
already  spent  some  years  in  his  own  studies  of  th(>  river  and  its  Indians,  had 
just  hr.ished  for  our  GovernnKMit  a  two  years'  survey  of  the  country  between 
the  Missouri  and  Mississippi  ;  coming  to  Washington  to  make  up  his  re- 
port, he  fountl  in  my  father  an  appreciative  friend.  Mr.  I'remont  had  been 
the  topographical  engineer  of  the  surveys,  and  w  s  now  making  up  its 
maps.  My  father  found  so  mucli  to  inform  and  interest  him  in  this  Mis- 
sissippi work,  that  quickly  there  grew  up  close  and  friendly  relations.  He 
communicated  to  them  his  earnest  feeling  of  the  need  for  further  western 
surveys  in  the  interest  of  our  (-migration  to  Oregon.  The  inevitable  result 
of  our  "  conciliatory  "  policy  on  the  joint-occupation  had  now  reach>  1  ..  [joint 


M 


«c.. 


\c  ques- 
lad  not. 
msel  of 
arin<'-  it. 


who  had 
ans,  had 
)c;t\vcen 
his  re- 
Kul  been 
up  its 
this  Mis- 
iins.     He 
western 
iU>  result 
::  point 


BENTON    MONUMENT-ST.    LOUIS,   MO. 


I  »■    I 


m 


^ 


lUOGRAPHTCAI.  SKETCH  OF  SENA  TOR  TIENTOX. 


IS 


I 


at  which  one  or  the  other  country  must  be  the  only  holder ;  a  short  time 
later  it  threatened  war,  and  it  was.  only  in  '46  that  the  subject  was  setded 
as  it  stands  to-day.  Immediate  surveys  which  should  mark  out  the  road 
for  emigration,  and  at  least  imply  government  interest  and  protection, 
seemed  to  my  father  the  nearest  measure.  Mr.  Nicollet  entered  into  the 
idea  with  enthusiasm  though  his  health  was  much  worn  by  unusual  discom- 
forts and  exposures,  but  in  Mr.  Fremont  my  father  found  his  Ledyard. 

Coming  home  from  school  in  an  Easter  holiday,  I  found  Mr.  Fremont 
part  of  my  father's  "  Oregon  work."  It  was  the  spring  of '41  ;  in  Octo- 
ber we  were  married,  and  in  '42  the  first  expedition  was  sent  out  under 
Mr.  Fremont.  Mr.  Nicollet  died  during  the  summer,  regretdng  he  could 
have  no  part  in  this  great  and  useful  development  of  the  country  which 
had  been  part  of  France. 

This  first  encouragement  to  the  emigration  westward  fitted  into  so  large 
a  need  that  it  met  instant  favor,  and  a  second  was  ordered  to  connect  with 
it  further  surveys  to  the  sea-coast  of  Oregon.  At  last  my  father  could  feel 
liis  idea  "  moved."  Of  his  intense  interest  and  pride  and  joy  in  these 
expeditions  I  knew  best  ;  and  when  it  came  in  my  way  to  be  of  use  to  them 
and  protect  his  life-time  w'ork,  there  was  no  shadow  of  hesitation.  Mr. 
I'"r>Jnont  was  at  the  frontier  getting  his  camp  and  animals  into  complete 
travelling  condition  when  (as  with  Ledyard)  there  came  an  order  recall- 
ing him  to  Washington  ;  where  he  was  to  explain  why  he  had  armed  his 
party  with  a  howitzer :  that  the  howitzer  had  been  charged  to  him  ;  that 
it  was  a  scientific  and  not  a  military  expedition,  and  should  not  have  been 
so  armed  ;  anil  that  he  must  return  at  once  to  Washington  and  "explain." 

b'ortunately  I  was  alone  in  Saint  Louis,  my  father  being  out  of  town 
It  was  before  telegraphs  ;  and  nearly  a  week  was  rerpiired  to  get  letters 
either  to  the  frontier  or  to  Washington.  I  was  but  eighteen,  an  age  at 
which  consequences  do  not  weigh  against  the  present.  The  important  thing 
was  to  sa\e  the  expedition,  and  gain  time  for  a  good  start  which  should 
put  it  beyond  interference.-.  I  hurried  off  a  messenger — the  mails  were 
slow — to  Mr.  Fremont,  writing  that  he  must  start  at  once  and  never  mind 
the  grass  and  animals,  they  could  rest  antl  fatten  at  Bent's  Fort  ;  only,  go, 
and  leave  the  rest  to  my  father  ;  that  he  could  not  have  the  reason  for 
haste,  but  there  was  reason  enough. 

To  the  Colonel  of  the  Topographical  Bureau  who  had  given  the  order  of 
recall  I  answered  more  at  leisure.  I  wrote  him  exactl)-  what  I  had  done  and 
to  him  I  gave  the  reason.  T  hat  I  had  not  sent  forward  the  order  nor  let 
Mr.  I'remont  know  of  it  because  it  was  given  on  insufficient  knowledge  and 
to  obey  it  would  ruin  the  expedition  ;  that  it  would  require  a  fortnight  to 
setde  the  party,  leave  it,  and  get  to  Washington — and  indefinite  delay  there 
—another  fortnight  for  the  return,  and  by  that  time  the  early  grass  would 


r'' 


1 


( 


!   I  ]i 


ii^i 


'I  ''■ 


1 6 


.W:.]/0/A'S  OF  MY  I.IFE—JOIIX  CHARLES  FRKMOX l'. 


be  past  its  best  and  the  untlerfctl  animals  would  be  thrown  into  the 
mountains  for  the  winter  ;  that  the  country  of  the  Hlackfeet  and  other  fierce 
tribes  had  to  be  crossed,  and  they  knew  nothing-  of  the  rights  of  science. 
A\'hen  my  father  came  he  entirel)'  approved  my  wrongdoing  and  wrote  to 
Washington  tliat  he  wouUl  be  responsible  for  my  act ;  and  that  he  would 
call  for  a  court-martial  on  the  point  charged  against  Mr.  Fremont.  lUit 
there  was  never  further  question  of  the  wisdom  of  arming  his  party  suf 
ficiently — in  fact  it  was  but  a  pretext.  The  precious  time  had  been  se- 
cured and  "  they'd  have  fl(.'et  feet  who  follow  "  where  such  purpose  leads 
the  advance.  I  hatl  grown  up  to  and  into  my  father's  large  purpose  ; 
and  now  that  my  husband  could  be  of  such  aid  to  him  in  its  accom- 
plishment,  I  had  no  hesitation  in  risking  for  him  all  consequences.  W'l' 
three  understood  each  other  antl  acted  together  then  and  later — without 
question  or  delay. 

That  expedition  led  directly  to  our  acquiring  California  :  which  was 
accomplished  during  the  third,  ami  last,  of  the  expetlitions  made  under  the 
Government.  My  father  was  a  man  grown  when  our  western  boundary 
was  the  Mississippi.  In  1S21  he  commenced  in  the  Senate  his  champion- 
ship of  a  quarter  of  a  century  for  our  new  territory  on  the  Pacific.  Now 
with  California  added  Ik;  could  say  in  that  Senate : 

"  We  own  the'  country  from  sea  to  sea — from  the  Atlantic  to  tlie 
Pacific — and  upon  a  breadth  e(jual  to  the  length  of  the  Mississippi  and 
embracing  the  whole  temperate  zone." 

The  long  contest,  the  0[)position,  the  indifference,  the  ignorance,  the 
sneering  doubts  were  in  the  past.  From  his  own  hearth  had  gone  forth 
the  one  who  carried  his  hopes  to  fiiUest  execution  ;  and  who  now  after 
many  perils  and  anxieties  was  back  in  safety — even  to  a  seat  in  the  Senate 
beside  him.  Who  had  enabled  him  to  make  true  his  prophetic  words 
carved  on  the  petlestal  of  his  statue  in  Saint  Louis,  whose  bronze  hand 
points   West : 

••  TiiKRi;  IS   iiii',  Hasp  ; 

'I'lil  RK    IS    riu;    RdAD    |i>    INIUA." 

For  with  our  Pacific  ports  came  to  us  that  Asiatic  trade  which  was 
the  underlying-  cause  of  all  the  wars  of  France  and  England  for  a  hun- 
dred years,  b'rance  lost  India — Canada — and  the  vigilant  English  na\  y 
prevented  her  from  protecting  Louisiana.  Then  Napoleon  avenged  him- 
self and  made  the  master  move  which  checkmated  England  by  giving  o\(jr 
to  her  rebellious  colonies  the  Mississippi  and  the  Columbia. 

England  was  loth  to  lose  her  grasp.  She  tried  to  get  by  treaty  free 
navigation  o^  the  Mississii)pi  and  right  of  way  over  our  territories  in  ac- 
cess to  it.  luit  Jefferson  was  President.  He  would  not  even  lay  before 
the  Senate  the  treaty  containing  that  clause. 


« r 


I 


into    the 

ler  fierce 

science. 

wrote  to 

iC    would 

nt.  lUii. 
arty  sul- 
been  sc- 
»se  leads 
purpose  ; 
i  accoin- 
es.  We 
—without 

hich  \vas 
inder  the 
boundary 
hampioii- 
ic.     Now 

c  to  the 
uppi    and 

ance,  the 

one  forth 
low  after 
le  Senate- 
tic  words 
nze  hand 


diich  was 
or  a  hun- 
lish  na\y 
ed  him- 
iving  over 

;reaty  free 
ries  in  ac- 
lay  before 


w 


T 


if 


i  :  ( 


lUOGRAPJIICAl.  SKETCH  OI'  SENATOR  BE.WTON. 


17 


Mf 


England  tried  then  by  force  to  get  New  Orleans—  and  failed.  Then 
followed  her  attempt  to  colonize  and  in  that  way  hold  Oregon  under  the 
permitted  joint-occupation,  weakly  prolonged  by  our  Government  until  we 
barel)'  (;scaped  war  in  regaining  our  boundary. 

There  remained  the  Mexican  territory  of  California  with  its  noble 
harbor  of  San  Francisco  ;  surveyed  by  England  as  her  own. 

The  issue  had  narrowed  as  to  who  should  possess  this  the  finest  har- 
bor on  the  coast. 

In  the  early  home  readings  my  father  had  studied  the  trial  of  Warren 
Hastings,  and  Clive  and  India  were  almost  as  close  to  his  boyhood  as 
our  war  is  to  the  boys  of  to-day.  The  struggle  for  India  and  its  trade 
"  greater  than  that  of  Tyre  and  Sidon  "  made  the  story  of  a  great  war  on 
a  background  of  oriental  splendor. 

To  gain  for  one's  country  a  great  rich  land  was  the  glory  to  be  envied 
by  him  in  those  dreams  of  boyhood  when  nothing  seems  impossible. 

What  mysterious  foreshadowing  may  not  have  moved  him  to  the  long 
labors  that  led  to  a  greater  and  richer  addition  to  his  own  country  ?  That 
enablnl  America  to  hold  the  Golden  Gate  to  the  commerce  of  the  Pacific  ? 

With  her  territory  we  inherited  from  France  her  long  contest,  and  now 
when  the  Mexican  war  opened  up  a  fresh  opportunity  it  was  England  and 
America  who  faced  each  other. 

Two  men  were  in  position  to  use  deciding  influence,  and  both  under- 
stood the  crisis  and  each  i..her,  my  father  in  Washington  with  his  estab- 
lished power  in  the  Senate  :  Mr.  Fremont  on  the  ground  where  the  decisive 
blow  must  be  given. 

The  tenacity  of  purpose,  the  staying-power  of  l-^ngland  was  imper>.(,.;ated 
in  one  of  her  American  descendants,  and  the  partly  French  blood  added 
French  audacity  of  execution  to  the  other  whose  life  and  purpose  was  inter- 
woven with  that  of  my  father. 

Long  thought  and  deliberation  had  ripened  hopes  and  plans  :  when  the 
signal  came  the  duel  of  a  century  was  ended  by  the  raising  of  the  American 
Flag. 


MEMOIRS    OF    MY    LIFE. 

Bv  JOHN  CIIAR1.es  FREMONT. 


ii.' 


CHAPTER  I. 

182S-33  Scliool  clays — 1S33-36  Cruise  on  U.  S.  S.  Natchez — 1836-37  Appoiiitocl  Pro- 
fessor of  Matln-'inalics  in  the  Navy — .\ssistant  Engineer  under  Cajjlain  Williams — 
Work  in  Mountains  of  .Ncjrlli  anil  South  Carolina — 1837-38  Threatened  hostilities 
with  Cherokee  Indians,  ete.,  etc. 

LooKiNi;  back  over  the  years  of  the  life  which  I  am  about  to  tran.sfer  to 
the  blank  payes  before  me,  I  .see  in  its  earlier  part  but  few  things  worthy  of 
note.  The  lights  and  sha<lo\\s  of  schoolboy  life  are  like  April  weather. 
There  is  mnch  sunshine  and  the  clouds  pass  quickly.  I'arther  along  the 
shadows  darken  and  lengthen.  But  the  ctu'rent  events  which  belong  to  early 
life  make  slight  impressions  and  have  no  consequences.  They  do  not  extend 
their  influence  into  the  time  when  life  begins  in  errnest.  Looking  back  over 
the  mistv  road  I  dwell  with  mi.xed  feelings  upo  1  the  pictures  that  rise  up  in 
my  memory.      Not  upon  all  with  pleasure. 

Yet  they  are  part  of  myself  and  represent  pleasant  scenes  and  faces  that 
were  dear,  now  dim  in  the  obscurity  of  years.  But  on  these  pages  I  recur 
only  to  those  passages  in  my  early  life  which  had  some  connnection  with  its 
after  part  and  were  a  governing  inlluence  in  it.  Throughout,  at  different 
periods  it  has  been  my  good  fortune  to  be  in  familiar  relations  with  men  who 
were  eminent,  each  in  his  own  line,  all  of  whom  were  individualized  by  char- 
acter anfl  some  distinguished  by  achievement.  Even  if  insensibly,  such  asso- 
ciations influence  the  course  of  life  and  give  its  coloring  to  it.  The  early 
part  of  mine  was  desultory.  "The  path  that  men  are  destined  to  walk  " 
had  not  been  marked  out  for  me.  Later  events  determined  this,  and  mean- 
time I  had  freedom  of  choice  in  preparatory  studies. 

At  si.xteen  I  was  a  good  scholar.  My  teacher,  who  became  my  friend  as 
well,  was  a  Scotch  gentleman  who  had  been  educated  at  Edinburgh  ;  he  was 
thoroughly  imbued  with  classic  learning,  and  lived  an  inner  life  among  the 
Greeks  and  Latins.     Under  his  enthusiastic  instruction  I  became  fond  as 


"IP 


SCHOOL  AND  COLLEGE  DA  YS. 


19 


lintcd  Pro- 

U'illiiims — 
1  hostilities 


ransfer  to 
.vorth)'  of 
weather. 
:ilony;  the 
,g  to  early 
lot  cxteinl 
:3ack  over 
rise  up  in 

faces  that 
es  I  recur 
311  with  its 
:  different 
i  men  who 
d  by  char- 
luch  asso- 
The  early 
to  walk  " 
md  mean- 

j  friend  as 
1  ;  he  was 
.mong  the 
e  fond  as 


himself  of  the  dead  languages,  and  to  me  also  they  became  replete  with 
living  images.  I  entered  upon  the  study  of  Cireek  with  genuine  pleasure  and 
excitement.  It  had  a  mysterious  charm  for  me  as  if  behind  the  strange 
characters  belonging  to  an  ancient  world  1  was  to  find  things  of  wonderful 
interest.  I  loved  to  pore  over  the  volumes  of  old  Greek  plays  in  their 
beautiful  Edinburgh  print  that  were  among  my  teacher's  cherished  books 
and  the  fresh  ones  that  occasionally  came  to  him  from  Scotland.  I'illed 
with  the  figures  of  that  ancient  world  into  wOiich  I  had  entered  they  re- 
main stamped  as  pleasing  bits  into  the  recollections  of  that  time,  and  show 
how  completely  my  mind  was  possessed  by  my  work.  The  years  spent  in 
this  way  gave  me  habits  of  study  and  laid  the  foundation  for  a  knowledge 
of  modern  languages  which  long  afterward  became  valuable  in  important 
events. 

Upon  the  strength  of  these  studies  I  now  entered  at  once  into  the  junior 
class  at  the  Charleston  college,  though  far  behind  it  in  other  branches  and 
especially  in  mathematics.  Hut  this  new  field  interrupted  the  close  relations 
with  my  friend  and  teaclier  Dr.  John  Roberton.  Many  years  afterward, 
in  reading  the  introduction  to  his  translation  of  Xenophon's  Anabasis  I 
had  the  pleasure  to  find  him  speaking  of  me  as  "  his  once  beloved  and  fa- 
\orite  pupil — his  prodigious  memory  and  enthusiastic  application." 

I  was  fond  of  study,  and  in  what  I  had  been  deficient  easily  caught  up 
with  the  class.  In  the  new  studies  I  did  not  forget  the  old,  but  at  times  I 
neglected  both.  While  present  at  class  I  worked  hard,  but  frequently 
absented  myself  for  daj's  together.  This  infraction  of  college  discipline 
brought  me  frequent  reprimands.  During  a  long  time  the  faculty  forbore 
with  me  because  I  was  always  well  prepared  at  recitation,  but  at  length, 
after  a  formal  warning  neglected,  their  patience  gave  way  and  I  was  expelled 
from  college  for  continued  disregard  of  discipline.  1  was  then  in  the  senior 
class.  In  this  act  there  was  no  ill-feeling  on  either  side.  Mv  fault  was  such 
a  neglect  of  the  ordinary  college  usages  and  rules  as  the  faculty  could  not 
overlook  and  I  knew  that  I  was  a  transgressor. 

A  few  years  afterward  the  faculty  voluntarily  revised  their  decision  and 
conferred  on  me  the  degree  of  Bachelor  and  Master  of  Arts,  so  taking  me 
back  into  the  fold.  Meantime  I  had  my  compensation  T'le  college  author- 
ities had  wrapped  themselves  in  their  dignity  and  reluclu.itly  but  sternly  in- 
flicted on  me  condign  punishment.  To  me  this  came  like  summer  wind,  that 
breathed  over  something  sweeter  than  the  "  bank  whereon  the  wild  thyme 
blows."  I  smiled  to  myself  while  I  listened  to  words  about  the  disappoint- 
ment of  friends — and  the  broken  career.  I  was  living  in  a  charmed  atmos- 
phere and  their  edict  only  gave  me  complete  freedom.  What  the  poets  dwell 
on  as  "  the  rarest  flower  of  life  "  had  bloomed  in  my  path— only  seventeen 
I  was  passionately  in  love.     This  was  what  had  made  me  re<rardless  of 


1 


30 


A//:.UO/A'S  OF  MV  l.lfE—IOnX  CHARI.llS  FKli.MOXT. 


discipline!  and  careless  of  consequences.  This  was  the  true  rebe'  c  car- 
ried nie  off  to  pleasant  days  and  returned  ni(;  buoyant  at  night  to  hard  work 
in  order  to  catch  u[)  with  niy  class  next  niorniny.  With  my  memory  full 
of  those  days,  as  the  recollection  rises  to  the  surface  I  put  it  tlown  here. 
This  is  an  autobio!.jraphy  and  it  woukl  not  be  tru(-'  to  itself  if  I  left  out  llir 
bit  of  sunshine  that  made  the  glory  of  my  youth  what  Schiiler  calls  "  his 
glorious  \outh."  It  is  only  a  few  lines,  a  tril^utc;  which  as  they  r'  appear 
around  me  I  give  to  tlie  pleasant  companions  who  made  life  gay  at  that 
time.  There  will  be  enough  hereafter  of  grave;  and  hard,  conflict  and  dis- 
sension, violence  and  injury  and  fraud;  but  none  of  these  things  were  known 
to  us,  that  little  circle  of  sworn  friends,  who  were  gathering' our  spring  ihnv- 
ers.  We  took  no  thought  for  the  harvest  but  gathered  our  cornflowers  from 
the  ui>springing  grain. 

1  remember,  once  along  the  banks  of  the  1  )es  Moines,  a  botanist  witli 
me  stooped  down  and  grasped  the  clustered  head  of  a  low  flowering  plain. 
l'nd(;r  the  broad  leaves  lay  coiled  a  rattlesnake,  close  to  hir.  hand.  Cif.-yer 
escaped,  but  it  gave  him  a  spasm  that  made  him  (-lig  his  heels  into  the  grountl 
and  jerk  his  arms  nervously  about  as  he  threw  off  the  shock. 

Always  afterward  he  looked  for  snakes  among  his  flowers.  With  ours 
there  were  never  any.  Some  thorns  perhaps  as  I  hadjust  foui  ',  but  thesi; 
go  with  the  sweetest  flowers. 

Since  I  was  fourteen  years  old  I  hail  been  intimate;  with  '.e  family 

who  had  escaped  from  the  San  Domingo  massacre.  With  the  mother  and 
grandmother,  there  were  two  boys  and  three  girls.  The  elder  of  the  bojs 
was  older  than  I,  the  girls  all  younger.  The  eldest  of  the  three  girls  was 
Cecilia.  They  were  all  unusually  handsome  ;  clear  brunette  complexions, 
large  dark  eyes,  and  abundant  blue-black  hair. 

The  grandmother  was  the  head  of  the  family  and  its  autocratrice.  She 
was  a  tall,  stern  old  woman,  with  iron-gray  hair,  over  seventy  years  of  age, 
and  held  absolute  rule  over  us  all,  from  the  mother  down.  Often  when  the 
riot  was  at  the  highest  or  we  had  kept  it  up  late,  h(;r  sudden  appearance 
would  disperse  us  like  a  flock  of  quail.  The  house-children  would 
scamper  off  to  bed  and  the  visitors  make  a  prompt  escape.  The;  house 
stood  on  a  corner  and  there  was  a  room  at  the  rear  which  is  daguerreo- 
typed  on  ni)-  memory.  This  room  openeel  directly  on  the  street  and  be- 
longed to  us  by  squatters'  right.  It  was  by  this  door  that  we  were  accus- 
tomed to  make  a  sudden  exi*;  when  the  grandmother  made  one  too  many 
for  us. 

But  her  ill-humor  of  the  moment  never  lasted  until  the  nf'.zt  time  came 
for  us  to  meet.  The  severe  lines  imprinted  on  her  face  by  trials,  after  r(-'- 
pose  had  not  smoothed  away.  But  often  when  we  were  in  full  flight  before 
her  I  have  seen  the  lurking  smiles  break  into  a  pleased  laugh  that  cleared 


'•k 


IP 


i: 


scnoor.  Axn  coi.i.r.Gr.  days. 


21 


e  c  car- 
i  hard  work 
ncinory  t'lil! 
lown  here, 
left  out  the 
r  calls  "  his 
:)■  X'  appear 
ray  at  that 
ict  and  dis- 
i-ere  known 
sprinj^'-  llow- 
owers  from 

:)tanist  with 
erini^'  plant, 
id.  Gcycr 
the  L;TOiind 

\\  ith  ours 
',  l)ut  thesi.- 

'.e  family 
mother  and 
of  the  boys 
:e  girls  was 
)mplexions, 

trice.  She 
t;ars  of  age, 
:n  when  the 
appearanc(; 
Iren  would 
The  house 
daguerreo- 
2et  and  bc- 
tvere  accus- 
c  too  man\ 


1 


awaj-  the  sternness,  in  a  manner  1  grew  up  with  the  children.  Before; 
and  after  I  left  college  they,  but  especially  one,  were  the  companions  with 
whom  I  was  always  happy  to  spend  what  time  I  could  seize  upon.  The 
boys  and  I  made  a  restk.'ss  trio. 

The  days  went  by  on  wings.  In  the;  summer  we  ranged  about  in  the 
woods,  or  on  the  now  historic  islands,  gunning  or  picnicking,  the  girls 
sometimes  with  us  ;  sometimes  in  a  sailboat  on  the  bay,  oftener  going  over 
the  bar  to  seaward  and  not  infrecjuently  wdicn  the  breeze  failed  us  getting 
dangerously  near  the  breakers  on  the  bar.  I  remember  as  in  a  picture, 
seeing  the  beads  of  perspiration  on  the  forehead  of  my  friend  Henry  as  he 
tugged  frantically  at  his  oar  when  we  had  found  ourselves  one  day  in  the 
suck  of  Drunken  Dick,  a  huge  breaker  that  to  our  eyes  appeared  mon- 
strous as  he  threw  his  spray  close  to  the  boat.  I'or  us  it  really  was  pull 
Dick  pull  Devil. 

Those  were  the  splendid  outside  days  ;  days  of  unreflecting  life  when  I 
lived  in  the  glow  of  a  passion  that  now  I  know  extended  its  refining  in- 
fluence over  my  whole  life.  The  recollection  of  those  days  has  never 
faded.  I  am  glad  that  it  was  not  required  of  me  to  come  back  as  an  enemy 
among  those  scenes. 

This  holiday  time  could  not  last,  but  it  was  beautiful,  although  I  was 
conscious  that  I  could  not  afforil  it.  I  had  not  entirely  neglected  my 
studies.  Sometimes  seized  with  a  temporary  remorse  for  time  lost  I  gath- 
ered up  my  books  and  overworked  myself  for  awhile,  only  to  relapse  Avitli 
keener  zest  into  the  more  natural  life. 

The  accidents  that  lead  to  events  are  often  hardly  noticeable.  A  single 
book  sometimes  enters  fruitfully  into  character  or  pursuit.  I  had  two  such. 
One  was  a  chronicle  of  men  who  had  made  themselves  famous  by  brave 
and  noble  deeds,  or  infamous  by  cruel  and  base  acts.  With  a  schoolboy's 
enthusiasm  I  read  these  stories  over  and  over  again,  with  alternate  pleas- 
ure or  indignation.  I  please  myself  in  thinking  they  have  sometimes  ex- 
ercised a  restraining  or  inspiring  influence.  Dwelling  in  the  memory  they 
were  like  the  ring  of  Amasis. 

The  other  was  a  work  on  practical  astronomy,  published  in  the  Dutch. 
The  language  made  it  a  closed  book  but  for  the  beautifully  clear  maps  of 
the  stars  and  many  examples  of  astronomical  calculations.  By  its  aid  I 
became  well  acquainted  with  the  night  skies  and  familiarized  myself  with 
the  ordinary  observations  necessary  to  determine  latitude  and  longitude. 
This  Avas  the  beginning  of  the  astronomical  knowledge  afterwards  so  es- 
sential to  me. 

Soon  now  the  day  for  care  and  work  came.  We  were  only  two,  my 
mother  and  I.  We  had  lost  my  sister.  My  brother  was  away,  making  his 
own  career,  and  I  had  to  concern  myself  for  mine.     I  was  unwilling  to 


wmwmmmmmmm 


'^ 


23 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LrFE-JOHN  CHARLES  ERFMOXT. 


leave  my  mother.  Circumstances  had  more  than  "sually  endeared  us  to 
each  other  and  I  knew  that  lier  life  would  be  solitary  without  me.  I  wa-; 
accustomed  to  be  much  at  home  and  our  separations  had  been  slight.  But 
now  it  was  likely  to  be  for  \o\vy  and  the  hard  part  would  l)e  for  the  one  left 
alone.  For  me  it  was  very  different,  (joinq^  out  into  the  excitement  of 
stranj^i^e  scenes  and  occurrences  I  wouUl  be  lorced  out  of  myself  and  for 
lonq;  intervals  could  fori>et  what  I  left  behind,  b'or  her  in  the  sameness  of 
daily  life  there  would  be  a  blank  not  easily  filled.  But  my  motlu^r  had  an 
e.xperience  of  sacrifice  which  with  her  true  womanly  nature  it  had  been 
hard  to  learn.  Realizing  that  now  the  time  had  come  for  another,  she,  but 
not  cheerfully,  sent  me  forward  on  my  way. 

The  necessity  for  e.xertion  was  making  itself  felt  and  the  outlook  for  my 
futiirc  was  vague.  lUit  among  the  few  men  whom  I  had  come  to  know  as 
friends  there;  wa.-,  one  whose  kindly  aid  and  counsel  was  often  valuable  to 
me,  then  and  afterv.-ard. 

Mr.  Poinsett  was  (Mie  of  the  distinguished  mcMi  of  the  day,  of  broad  ai\(l 
liberal  mind,  refined  b)  .-.tudy  and  much  travel.  While  Minister  to  Mexico 
his  cultivated  taste  letl  him  to  interest  himself  in  the  luxuriant  tlora  of  that 
country.  Known  in  a  graver  way  through  his  public  works  and  service,  i; 
has  chanced  that  his  name  has  been  kept  familiarly  present  and  most  |)oiii:- 
larly  known  by  the  scarlet  Poinsettia  which  he  contributed  to  botany. 

I  knew  him  after  he  returned  from  Mexico,  and  before  and  during  tiie 
time  when  he  was  Secretary  of  War.  liy  his  aitl,  but  not  with  his  appro- 
\al,  I  went  tf)  tlie  South  ,\merican  coast  as  teacher  c^n  l)oard  tb.e  V .  S. 
slooj)  of  war  Natchez,  Captain  Zantzinger.  Admiral  I'arragut  was  on(,'  ot 
the  LieutcMiants.  The  voyage  had  its  advantages.  I  saw  more  of  tl.e 
principal  cities  and  p' ople  than  a  traveller  usually  does  on  passing  throui,;h 
a  country,  though,  nothing  of  the  interior.  But  the  time  spent  was  long 
anil  had  no  future  bearing.  Among  the  few  events  that  occurred  to  break 
the  routine  of  ship  life  there  was  one  in  which  I  was  concerned  that  I  re- 
member with  satisfaction.  While  lying  at  Rio  de  Janeiro  a  duel  hatl  t;da'n 
place  between  two  of  the  miilshipni'-n  in  which  one  lost  his  life.  Both 
were  men  of  high  character  and  had  been  friends.  The  fatal  termination 
of  the  meeting  was  deeply  regretted,  an^l  by  no  one  more  than  the  survivor. 
A  trivial  misunderstanding  shortly  after  resuUc:d  in  another.  The  princi- 
pals on  this  occasion  were  Mr.  Lovell,  of  South  Carolina,  and  Mr.  Parroit, 
of  Massachusetts.  Decatur  Hurst  was  Lovell's  second,  and  I  Parrott's. 
Lovell  was  a  nephew  of  Mr.  Poinsett  and  Hurst  a  nephew  of  Commodore 
Decatur.  Hurst  aiul  I  were  frit  ads.  lb;  proposed  to  put  only  powder  in 
the  pistols  for  the  first  fu'e.  If  then  another  should  be  insisted  on  we  would 
give  them  lead.  In  this  we  incurred  some  personal  risk,  but  were  c}uitc  will- 
ing to  take  it  for  the  sake  of  the  persons  principally  interested  in  the  result. 


i 
t 

■■■;«: 


T. 


eared  us  to 

V 

me.      I  wa;-. 

^ 

slight.    But 

■^^K 

the  one  left 

:citenient  u{ 

ielf  antl  Inr 

sameness  (,!' 

ihc.r   had  an 

t   had   been 

her,  she,  but 

tlook  for  my 

to  know  as 

valuable  to 

)f  broad  and 

M"  to  Mexico 

^ 

ilora  (jf  that 

ul  service,  i: 

most  |)oi-)i;- 

jotany. 

during  tile 

h  his  appro- 

d  tlu;    V.  S. 

-.i 

was  one  ot 

>! 

more  of  tl.e 

•  iRi 

iing  throu;.;h 

nt  was  lorn; 

^^!<SI 

I'ed  to  bi'cai^ 

id  that  I  re- 

el had  t:ikeii 

life.      l!olh 

termination 

the  survivor. 

The  princi- 

Mr.  Parroit, 

I    Parrott's. 

■    -^W) 

Commodore 

i 

y  powder  in 

% 

on  we  would 

'Sal 

re  (juite  will- 

■M 

in  the  result. 

SCHOOL  AND  COLLEGE  DA  YS. 


n 


This  being  agreed  upon,  we  succeeded  in  leaving  the  ship  without  hav- 
ing attracted  any  attention  to  our  movements,  and  crossing  the  bay  quietly 
landed  on  the  north  shore.  Leaving  the  boat,  we  found  a  narrow  strip  of 
sandy  beach  about  forty  yards  long  between  the  water  and  the  mountain. 
In  such  a  place  men  could  hardly  miss  each  other.  The  few  preparations 
made,  we  placed  our  men  twelve  j)ace:;  apart  and  gave  the  wortl.  I)Oth 
looked  sincerely  surprised  that  the-y  remained  standing  upright  as  before. 
Going  up  each  to  his  man,  we  declared  the  affair  over  ;  the  cause  of  quar- 
rel in  our  opinion  not  justif\-ing  a  second  shot.  There  was  some  demur,  but 
we  insisting  carried  our  men  triumphaiuly  l»ack  to  the  ship,  nobody  hurt 
and  nobod)'  wiser.      Hurst  and  I  greatly  enjoyed  our  little  ruse  dc  inicri-c. 

Of  the  four  men  three  are  dead.  lust  when  Lovell  died  I  do  not  kii(jw. 
Admiral  Parrott  died  in  New  York  aijout  seven  years  ago.  I  hirst  too  is 
dead.  While  on  tlie  .African  coast  he  was  badly  wounded  in  a  duel,  which 
ultimately  caused  hi:;  di'alh  not  long  aftei'ward. 

W'iien  the  cruise  was  over  I  returned  to  Charleston.  In  the  meantime 
Congr(;ss  had  created  the  post  of  Professor  of  Mathematics  in  the  Navy.  I 
aiM)lied  for  a  commission  and  was  ordered  before  an  examining  board,  to 
be  convened  shortly  at  Norfolk.  Then  canu;  for  me  another  [jlcasant 
month,  {o\-  I  was  back  among  my  old  friends,  ,and  the  strong  motive  I  had 
now  adtled  to  the  pleasure  I  always  found  in  stutly.  .\11  da)'  l(Mig  I  was 
at  my  books,  and  tlie  f^arliest  dawn  fountl  me  at  an  upper  window  against 
which  stood  a  tall  poplar,  where  the  rustling  of  the  glossy  leaves  made  a 
soothing  accompaniment.  The  surroundings  go  for  a  great  deal  in  intel- 
lectual work. 

My  examination  was  successfully  over  and  I  had  received,  and  declined, 
my  appointinent. 

Just  then  an  opportunity  was  oiTered  me  to  go  under  Captain  W.  (.j. 
\\  illiams  of  the  U.  S.  Topographical  Cori)s,  as  one  of  the  assistant  engi- 
neers on  surveys  to  be  made  for  a  projected  railway  from  Charleston  to 
Cincinnati.  I  gladly  accepted  the  chance  that  fell  to  me,  and  spent  a  sum- 
mer in  congenial  work  among  the  mountains  of  South  Carolina  and  Ten- 
nessee. 'I'herc  were  several  parties,  each  uider  an  able  engineer.  That 
to  which  I  belonged  was  under  the  direction  of  Lieutenant  White,  a  gradu- 
ate of  \\'est  i'oint,  who  knew  well  how  to  make  our  'vork  agree-^Me.  We 
were  engaged  in  runni!ig  experimental  lines,  and  the  plotthig  of  the  field 
notes  sometimes  kept  us  up  until  midnight.  Our  quarters  were  sometimes 
at  a  village  inn  and  more  frequently  at  some  farmer's  house,  where  milk 
and  honey  and  many  good  things  were  welcome  to  an  appetite  sharpened 
by  ail  day  labor  on  foot  and  a  tramp  of  several  miles  backward  and  forward, 
morning  and  evening.  It  was  chec!r\-,  wholesome  work.  The  summer 
weather  in  the  mountains  was  fine,  the  cool  water  abundant,  and  the  streams 


!,      F 


24 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LI FK— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


lined  with  azaleas.  As  often  is  with  flowers  of  that  color  the  white  azaleas 
were  fragrant.  The  survey  was  a  kind  of  picnic  with  work  enough  to  give 
it  zest,  and  we  were  all  sorry  when  it  vas  over. 

The  surveys  being  suspended,  I  returned  home  and  only  casually  if  ever 
met  again  the  men  with  whom  I  had  been  associated.  General  Morrell, 
with  whom  many  years  afterward  I  lived  as  neighbor  on  the  Hudson,  was 
the  only  one  I  remember  to  have  met. 

It  had  been  the  policy  of  President  Jefferson,  suggested  by  his  acquisi- 
tion of  the  Louisiana  territory,  to  remove  all  the  Indian  tribes  from  the 
Eastern  States  to  the  west  of  the  Mississippi.  This  policy  was  adopted  and 
carried  forward  by  Mr.  Monroe,  and  completed  under  President  Jackson. 

The  last  to  be  removed  were  the  Cherokees  who  inhabited  a  district 
where  the  States  of  North  Carolina,  Tennessee,  and  Georgia  cornered  to- 
gether. This  territory  was  principally  in  Georgia,  and  consisted  in  greater 
part  of  a  bod)  of  land  ceded  to  the  Cherokees  by  Georgia  in  1783. 

r  or  the  ijooil  of  the  borderincr  States,  and  for  the  welfare  of  the  Indians 
as  well,  this  was  a  wise  and  humane  measure.  But  the  Cherokees  were 
averse  to  the  change.  The\'  were  unwilling  to  leave  the  homes  where  they 
had  been  domiciled  for  half  a  century. 

The  country  was  mountainous  antl  the  face  of  it  not  accurately  known. 
Looking  to  the  contingency  of  hostilities  already  threatening  with  the  In- 
dians, Captain  Williams  was  ordered  to  make  a  military  reconnaissance  of 
the  territory  they  occupied.      I  went  with  him  again  as  one  of  his  assistants. 

The  accident  of  this  employment  curiously  began  a  period  of  years  of 
like  work  for  me  among  similar  scenes.  Here  I  found  the  path  which  I 
was  "  destined  to  walk."  Through  many  of  the  years  to  come  the  occu- 
pation of  my  prime  of  life  was  to  be  among  Indians  and  in  waste  places. 
Other  events  which  intervened  were  incidents  in  this  and  grew  out  of  it. 
Ther'  were  to  be  no  more  jears  wasted  in  tentative  efforts  to  find  a  way 
for  myself  The  work  was  laid  out  and  it  began  here  with  a  remarkable 
continuity  of  purpose. 

This  was  a  winter  survey  made  hurriedly.  When  we  entered  the  In 
dian  territory  we  were  three  together,  Archie  Campbell,  Hull  Adams  and 
I.  About  dark  we  reached  the  Nantaheyle  River,  at  an  Indian  village. 
The  Indians  were  having  a  feast  and  a  carouse  and  were  all  drunk.  The 
squaws  hid  us  in  a  log  out-cal.)in,  half  filled  with  shucked  corn.  We  did  not 
pass  a  comfortable  night.  The  shouts  of  the  drunker  Indians  and  rats 
running  over  us  kept  us  awake  ;  and  we  were  glad  \/:ien  morning  came. 
The  night  had  been  cold  and  our  bath-tub  was  the  Nantaheyle  River. 
There  was  ice  along  the  banks  and  the  water  in  my  hair  froze  into  fretful 
quills. 

With  the  beginning  of  the  reconnaissance  our  little  party  was  scattered, 


SCHOOL  AND  COLLEGE  DA  YS. 


as 


te  azaleas 
;h  to  give 

lly  if  ever 

Morrell, 

ison,  was 

s  acquisi- 
froni  the 

opted  and 

Jackson, 
a  district 

rncred  to- 

in  greater 

be  Indians 
cees  were 
'here  they 

;ly  known, 
th  the  In- 
issance  of 
assistants. 

f  years  of 

th  which  1 

the  occu- 

te  pkices. 
out  of  it. 

nd  a  way 

emarkabk- 

:d  the  In 
dams  and 
an  village. 
LUik.  The 
Ve  did  not 
s  and  rats 
nmg  came. 
:ylc  River, 
into  fretful 


■'I 


each  to  separate  work.  The  Indians  after  their  usual  way  of  living,  occu- 
pied the  country  sparsely.  In  parts,  this  was  beautifully  fertile  ;  broad 
level  valleys,  with  fine  streams  and  forest  land.  I  had  a  guide  named 
Laudermilk,  a  very  intelligent,  good-tempered  man,  intimately  acquainted 
with  the  territory  to  be  surveyed.  In  true  pioneer  spirit  he  had  built  his 
cabin  at  a  spot  in  the  woods  as  much  out  of  the  way  and  isolated  as  he 
could  well  find.  He  was  about  thirty  years  old  and  his  wife  twenty.  It 
was  comfortable  quarters.  Occasionally  we  would  spend  a  night  there, 
making  a  hard  ride  through  snow  to  reach  it.  Sometimes  we  were  alone, 
making  a  sketch  of  some  stream,  and  stopping  at  night  at  an  Indian  cabin. 
At  other  times,  when  the  work  was  in  a  more  uninhabited  part  of  the  ter- 
ritory, we  had  a  small  party  of  men,  with  pack-saddles  to  carry  our  tents 
and  provisions. 

It  was  a  forest  country  thinly  occupied  by  Indian  farms.  At  night  we 
slept  in  half-faced  tents,  with  great  fires  of  hickory  logs  at  our  feet.  Pigs 
which  ranged  during  the  fall  and  fattened  on  chestnuts  made  our  piece  dc 
resistance  on  these  occasions. 

As  it  sometimes  chanced,  I  was  present  at  Indian  feasts,  where  all  would 
get  wild  with  excitement  and  some  furious  with  drink.  Bloody  frays  were 
a  certain  accompaniment,  slashing  with  knives,  hands  badly  cut  from  clutch- 
ing the  blades  and  ugly  body  wounds.  Their  exhibition  of  brute  courage 
and  indifference  to  pain  compelled  admiration,  with  regret  for  the  good 
material  wasted.  But  these  were  the  exceptional  occasions.  In  their  villages 
and  in  their  ordinary  farming  life  they  lived  peaceably  and  comfortably. 
Many  of  their  farms  were  much  the  same  as  those  that  are  to  be  met  with 
everywhere  on  our  remote  frontier.  The  depreciating  and  hurtful  influence 
was  the  proximity  of  the  whites.  One  of  the  pieces  of  work  assigned  to 
me  was  a  reconnaissance  of  the  Hiwassee  River.  It  was  over  very  rough 
and  tangled  ground.  The  first  day's  work  of  twenty  miles  on  foot  made 
me  so  stiff  next  morning  that  I  moved  like  a  foundered  horse,  and  I  suppose 
I  was  foundered  for  the  time.  In  getting  over  the  trunks  of  fallen  trees  I 
had  to  sit  down  upon  them  and  lift  over  first  one  leg  and  then  the  other. 
But  this  was  only  for  the  first  day.  That  night  we  had  stopped  at  the  log 
house  of  an  Indian.  It  was  a  handsome  specimen  of  forest  architecture  ;  a 
s([uare-built  house  standing  on  a  steep  bank  of  the  Hiwassee,  with  glass- 
[)aned  windows.  But  the  striking  feature  in  such  surroundings  was  that 
all  the  logs  were  evenly  hewed  so  that  they  laid  solidly  together  and  pre- 
sented a  smoothly  even  surface.  Its  finish,  in  its  own  way,  made  quite  an 
agreeable  impression  from  its  unexpectedness  in  such  a  place.  Below,  the 
river  banks  fell  away,  leaving  a  little  valley,  in  which  he  had  made  his 
cornfield. 

In  much  travel  among  Indians  I  have  had  a  fair  opportunity  to  become 


26 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LTFE-JOHX  CHARLES  FRtlMONT. 


acquainted  with  different  tribes  and  learned  to  appreciate  and  comprehend 
the  results  of  the  differing  influences  brought  to  bear  upon  them.  Here  in 
the  Cherokee  country,  as  in  different  regions  afterward,  I  saw  how  their  dif- 
fering conditions  depended  upon  their  surroundings.  In  the  Great  Basin  I 
saw  them  in  the  lowest  stage  of  human  existence  where  it  was  in  its  simplest 
elements,  differing  from  that  of  wild  animals  only  in  the  greater  intelligence 
of  the  Indians.  Sage  bush  sheltered  them,  seeds,  bush  squirrels  and  hares, 
grasshoppers,  worms,  anything  that  had  life  made  their  food. 

Going  upward  I  saw  them  on  the  great  prairie  plains  in  the  higher 
stages  to  which  the  surrounding  facilities  for  a  more  comfortable  and  easier 
life  had  raised  them.  Nomadic,  following  the  game  and  the  seasons  but 
living  in  villages,  buffalo  and  large  game  gave  them  good  food  and  cloth- 
ing, and  made  for  them  dry  warm  lodges.  And  afterward  in  the  nearer 
approach  to  the  civili;^ed  life  to  which  the  intermittent  efforts  of  the  Gov- 
ernment at  agencies  and  reservations,  and  the  labor  of  the  Protestant  and 
Catholic  churches,  had  brought  them. 

The  efforts  of  the  Protestant  churches  had  been  limited  by  time  and 
extent  of  territory.  The  area  of  their  work  had  been  confined  chiefly  to 
a  part  of  the  country  east  of  the  Mississippi,  where  they  found  the  field 
yet  unoccupied  and  the  influences  English  and  Protestant.  The  Catholic 
Church  was  first  in  the  field  in  the  West.  Its  area  west  of  the  Mississippi 
extended  from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  into  Canada  and  along  the  shores  of  the 
Pacific,  where,  under  Spanish  rule,  their  stable  policy  was  best  displayed. 

The  earlier  explorers  west  of  the  Mississippi  were  French.  Explored, 
occupied,  and  owned  by  France  and  Spain  as  this  whole  country  was,  in- 
evitably their  religion  became  part  of  it  also,  ami  was  carried  among  the 
Indians  by  the  missionary  priests  of  that  Church.  For  two  centuries  this 
was  their  undisturbed  domain.  The  policy  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church 
is  unchanging  and  impersonal,  and  the  perpetuity  of  its  institutions  seems 
infused  into  the  extremest  details.  The  policy  of  its  government  was  the 
policy  of  the  agent  who  was  part  of  the  government,  having  the  same  in- 
terest at  heart ;  and  the  interest  and  well-being  of  the  Indians  were  equally 
the  interest  and  object  of  the  government  and  its  agent,  who  was  always 
one  of  the  body  politic  and  religious  and  whose  aim  was  impersonal,  di- 
rected solely  to  the  good  of  his  church.  All  this  I  have  seen  exemplifieil 
in  the  missions  on  the  Pacific  coast,  in  the  remnant  of  civilization  among 
the  interior  tril)cs,  and  in  the  present  condition  of  the  missions  on  the  At- 
lantic side.  The  results  of  their  work  stand  out  to-day  in  the  great  build- 
ings which  under  their  direction  were  erected  by  the  Indians  in  California. 
They  made  them  herdsmen  and  raiseil  by  them  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
horses  and  cattle.  They  made  them  farmers  self-supplying,  and  tauglit 
them  a  forriiyn  languri"-(-  too  deeply  im[)lanted  to  be  eradicated  by  loni; 


SCHOOL  A.VD  COLLEGE  DAYS. 


27 


iprehend 
Here  in 
their  dif- 
it  Basin  I 
;  simplest 
telligence 
ind  hares, 

le  higher 
md  easier 
asons  but 
and  cloth- 
he  nearer 
the  Gov- 
sstant  and 

^'  time  and 
chiefly  to 
1  the  field 
e  Catholic 
Mississippi 
ores  of  the 
lisplayed. 
Explored, 
ry  was,  in- 
among  the 
ituries  this 
ilic  Church 
ions  seems 
:nt  was  the 
le  same  in- 
ere  equally 
,vas  alwa\s 
;rsonal,  di- 
^xemplifieil 
ion  amont; 
on  the  Al- 
reat  build- 
California, 
ousands  ot 
and  taught 
ed  by  Ion;.; 


disuse. 


i 


The  remnants  of  their  teachings  remain  in  the  grain  fields  of  the 
Pimas  on  the  Gila  River  of  Arizona  and  in  the  orchards  of  the  Sepais  in 
the  canon  valleys  of  the  Colorado,  to  whom  the  Navajoes  come  regularly 
every  year  to  trade  for  fruit  and  grain.  All  this  resulted  from  a  singleness 
of  purpose  carried  into  effect  by  agents  inevitably  responsible.  And  they 
went  ahead  to  occupy  and  civilize  with  reliance  on  the  support  of  their 
government. 

The  Protestant  churches  had  the  aid  of  no  such  strength,  and  their 
success,  as  I  have  seen  it  evidenced  among  the  Cherokees  and  Shawnees 
and  Delaware  people,  as  with  later  missionary  efforts,  has  been  due  to  in- 
dividual energy  and  character. 

On  the  other  hand,  our  Government,  itself  changing  in  its  personality 
every  few  years,  administered  the  details  of  its  general  policy  through 
agents  to  whom  change  was  the  normal  and  expected  condition  ;  who  had 
no  persistent  interest  in  the  Indians  and,  above  all,  no  responsibility.  So 
there  has  been  no  continuous  effective  policy  by  the  Government  except 
in  the  removal  of  the  Indians  from  East  to  West,  and  out  of  the  way  of  the 
white  man,  as  the  f'de  of  population  rose. 

These  results  clearly  show  that  the  Indians  were  capable  of  being  civ- 
ilized u.id  utilized,  and  they  show  too  how  this  could  be  effected  more  or 
less  by  the  nature  of  the  policy  directed  upon  them. 

Our  army  is  a  permanent  body,  having  continuity  of  existence,  and  its 
officers  have  not  only  a  class  responsibility  but  a  responsibility  founded 
in  a  regard  for  their  individual  and  personal  honor,  and  the  honor  of  the 
body  to  which  they  belong.  These  two  qualities  of  permanency  and  re- 
sponsibility make  the  army  the  best  and  simplest  as  well  as  the  safest  and 
least  expensive  medium  through  which  to  control  and  care  for  these  Indian 
wards  of  the  nation.  We  have  taken  away  from  them  their  property  and 
means  of  support  and  are  bound  to  a  corresponding  obligation. 

In  the  fall  of  1853,  on  an  overland  journey,  I  spent  a  day  at  the  Catho- 
lic station  of  Saint  Mary's  on  the  Kansas  River,  among  the  Pottawatamie 
Indians.  Under  the  impression  of  what  I  saw  I  wrote  then  in  my  note- 
book as  follows  : 

"  Oct.  25.  Went  to  l^niontown  and  nooned.  This  is  a  street  of 
log-cabins.  Nothing  to  be  had  here.  Some  corn  for  our  animals  and 
a  piece  of  cheese  for  ourselves.  Lots  of  John  Barleycorn  which  the  men 
about  were  consuming.  Uniontown  is  called  a  hundred  miles  from  Kan- 
sas. 

"  Oct.  26,  High  wind  and  sleet.  Clouds  scudding  across  the  sky. 
About   two    o'clock   we    reached    the   pretty  little    Catholic    Mission    of 


aS 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRjEMONT. 


ill 


I 


Saint  Mary's.  The  well-built,  whitewashed  houses,  with  the  cross  on 
the  spire  showing  out  above  them  was  already  a  very  grateful  sight.  On 
the  broad  bottoms  immediately  below  are  the  fields  and  houses  of  the 
Pottawatamie  Indians.  Met  with  a  hospitable  reception  from  the  head  of 
the  Mission.  A  clear  sky  promises  a  bright  day  for  to-morrow.  Learned 
here  some  of  the  plants  which  are  medicinal  among  the  Indians.  Among 
them  Asarnin  Canadensis — jewel-weed  —  a  narcotic;  and  Oryngium 
Aquaticnm,  the  great  remedy  of  the  Pottawatamies  for  snake-bites." 

"  Oct.  2~.  White  frost  covers  the  ground  this  morning.  Sky  clear 
and  air  still.  With  bowls  of  good  coffee  and  excellent  bread  made  a 
good  breakfast.  We  already  begin  to  appreciate  food.  Prepared  our 
luggage,  threw  into  the  wagon  the  provisions  obtained  here,  and  at  ten 
o'clock  took  leave  of  the  hospitable  priests  and  set  out.  I  was  never  more 
impressed  by  the  efficiency  of  well-directed  and  permanent  missionary 
effort  than  here  at  this  far-off  mission  settlement,  where  the  progress  and 
good  order  strike  forcibly  as  thi  y  stand  in  great  contrast  with  the  neigh- 
boring white  settlement." 


r  \. 


1 1 


Ml 


11 


If! 


In  the  course  of  a  winter  exploration  into  the  Rocky  Mountains  in 
i848-'49  I  had  been  driven  southward  by  stress  of  weather,  and  in  the 
spring  of  the  latter  year  I  passed  through  Arizona.  With  the  treaty  of 
Guadaloupe  Hidalgo  that  Territory  had  just  come  under  the  dominion  of 
the  United  States.  I  had  gone  as  far  south  as  the  little  town  of  San  Pe- 
dro, which  still  was  within  Mexico.  Returning  northward  down  the  San 
Pedro  River  we  passed  on  the  way  an  abandoned  Mission  where  there 
was  an  extensive  peach  orchard  in  solitary  bloom.  The  soft  pink  bloom 
was  startling  where  the  ideas  of  the  place  spoke  only  now  of  violence  and 
bloodshed.  There  were  large  buildings  here,  and  the  situation  in  the 
river  valley  was  beautiful,  but  the  Apaches  had  made  it  too  dangerous  to 
live  in  isolated  places. 

We  followed  the  river  down  until  it  spread  out  where  it  entered  the 
plain  and  lost  itself  in  the  ground.  At  the  foot  of  a  steep  hill  we  found 
grass  and  vater,  and  next  morning  continued  our  journey  in  a  northwesterly 
direction  and  struck  the  Gila  near  the  villages  of  the  Pimas  and  Maricopas 
above  the  Great  Bend  of  the  river.  I  found  these  Indians  still  retaining 
the  civilization  that  had  been  taught  them  by  the  missionary  priests  and 
living  as  farmers  in  fixed  habitations.  They  raised  wheat  and  corn,  water- 
melons, beans  and  other  vegetables,  and  grew  cotton  out  of  which  they 
made  blankets.  They  lived  undisturbed,  having  no  other  enemy  than  the 
wild  Apaches,  who  seldom  dared  molest  them,  and  they  were  friendly  to 
the  Mexican  or  other  travellers  who  at  rare  intervals  passed  that  way  on 
their  road  to  the  Californias. 


SCHOOL  AXD  COLLEGE  DAYS. 


29 


cross  on 
rht.  On 
2S  of  the 
;  head  of 
Learned 
Among 
hyngium 
es. 

5ky  clear 
I  made  a 
Dared  our 
nd  at  ten 
ever  more 
nissionary 
gress  and 
the  neigh- 


mntains  in 
and  in  the 
I  treaty  of 
aminion  of 
af  San  Pe- 
rn the  San 
here  there 
Dink  bloom 
olence  and 
:ion  in   the 
ngerous  to 

ntered  the 
we  found 
rthwesterly 
Maricopas 
1  retaining 
priests  and 
orn,  water- 
which  they 
ny  than  the 
friendly  to 
hat  way  on 


They  received  me  in  a  truly  friendly  and  hospitable  way,  supplying 
in  exchange  for  a  few  trifling  articles  all  the  provisions  that  I  required. 
What  they  particularly  valued  was  a  small  opaque  white  bead,  of  which 
we  had  a  quantity. 

In  1879,  while  Governor  of  Arizona,  I  was  travelling  between  Phanix 
and  Maricopa,  which  is  on  the  line  of  the  South  Pacific  Railway,  and  again 
passed  by  their  villages.  Our  Government  had  covered  the  ground  they 
occupied  by  a  reservation.  Under  the  laws  of  Spain  and  Mexico,  the\-  in 
ihcir  lesT-al  and  recognized  character  of  citizens  living  in  Pueblos  were  en- 
tided  to  the  ownership  of  four  square  leagues  of  land.  The  terms  of  the 
trcatv  confirmed  this  right ;  but  with  its  usual  disregard  of  private  right 
our  Government  had  assumed  ownership  and  reserved  to  them  their  own 
lands,  as  against  other  trespassers  than  itself. 

The  settlements  of  these  Indians  stretch  along  the  bottom  lands  of  the 
Ciila  above  the  Great  Bend.  Their  houses  are  built  with  wattled  sides, 
the  roofs  being  of  the  natural  long  laths  of  the  segtiara — a  tree  cactus — and 
of  (Vd?////^  a  scarlet  flowering  shrub,  plastered  with  earth.  These  houses 
are  detached  and  in  this  way  the  village  covers  considerable  space.  As 
we  reached  the  reservation  the  driver  of  the  stage-coach  in  which  I  was 
travelling  drew  up  his  horses  at  a  small  adobe  house,  which  had  a  raniada 
or  bush-covered  shed  in  front.  An  Indian  was  leaning  against  one  of  the 
posts,  and  a  gray-headed  white  man  came  out  to  the  coach.  The  dri\  er 
delivered  to  him  a  demijohn,  and  after  a  word  or  two  he  went  back  into 
the  house  and  returned  with  a  stout  glass  of  whiskey  for  the  driver. 
These  Indians  were  then,  when  I  saw  them  last,  deteriorating  fast.  Their 
lands  are  very  fertile,  and  the  grain  which  they  raise  is  of  excellent  qual- 
ity. Ten  car-loads  of  wheat  raised  by  the  Maricopas,  about  the  time  I 
write  of,  and  sent  to  San  Francisco  were  sold  at  ;j>2.2o  the  hundred,  the 
ruling  price  at  the  time  being  $2.10  to  $2.15  the  hundred. 

If  these  Indians  were  under  the  immediate  control  of  an  army  officer 
who  would  act  as  their  factor  and  sell  their  produce  and  make  their  neces- 
sary purchases  to  the  greatest  advantage,  a.iding  their  progress  in  agri- 
culture while  at  the  same  time  he  held  them  in  wholesome  restraint,  their 
villages  would  soon  become  handsome  and  'ndustrious  settlements. 


f 


II  ■■    I 


■ 

■i! 

1       ■                   ■' 

i. 

i 

CHAPTER   II. 

1S3S — Appointed  bj-  President  \'aii  Bureii  Second  Lieutenant  of  Topographical  En- 
gineers— Expedition  under  Nicollet — 1839  Second  Expedition  of  Nicollet  North 
of  Missouri  River — 1840  in  Washington. 

The  Cherokee  survey  was  over.  I  remained  at  home  only  just  loni^ 
enough  to  enjoy  the  pleasure  of  the  return  to  it,  and  to  rehabituate 
myself  to  old  scenes.  While  I  was  trying  to  devise  and  settle  upon 
some  plan  for  the  future,  my  unforgetful  friend,  Mr.  Poinsett,  had  also 
been  thinking  for  me.  He  was  now  Secretary  of  War,  and,  at  his  request, 
I  was  appointed  by  President  Van  Buren  a  second  lieutenant  in  the 
United  States  Topographical  Corps,  and  ordered  to  Washington.  Wash- 
ington was  greatly  different  then  from  the  beautiful  capital  of  to-day.  In- 
stead of  many  broad,  well-paved,  and  leafy  avenues,  Pennsylvania  Avenue 
about  represented  the  town.  There  were  not  the  usual  resources  of  public 
amusement.  It  was  a  lonesome  place  for  a  young  man  knowing  but  one 
person  in  the  city,  and  there  was  no  such  attractive  spot  as  the  Battery 
by  the  sea  at  Charleston,  where  a  stranger  could  go  and  feel  the  freedom 
of  both  eye  and  thought. 

Shut  in  to  narrow  limits,  the  mind  is  driven  in  upon  itself  and  loses 
its  elasticity  ;  but  the  breast  expands  when,  upon  some  hill -top,  the  eye 
ranges  over  a  broad  e.xpanse  of  country,  or  in  face  of  the  ocean.  We  do 
not  value  enough  the  effect  of  space  for  the  eye  ;  it  reacts  on  the  mind, 
which  unconsciously  expands  to  larger  limits  and  freer  range  of  thought. 
So  I  was  low  in  my  mind  and  lonesome  until  I  learned,  with  great  relief 
that  I  was  to  go  upon  a  distant  survey  into  the  West.  But  that  first  im- 
pression of  flattened  lonesomeness  which  Washington  had  given  me  has 
remained  with  me  to  this  day. 

About  this  time,  a  distinguished  French  savant  had  returned  from  a 
geographical  exploration  of  the  country  about  the  sources  of  the  Missis- 
sijjpi,  the  position  of  which  he  first  established.  That  region  and  its  capa- 
bilities were  then  but  little  known,  and  the  results  of  his  journey  were  of 
so  interesting  a  nature  that  they  had  attracted  public  notice  and  comment. 
Through  Mr.  Poinsett,  Mr.  Nicollet  was  invited  to  come  to  Washington, 


w 


EXrEDITION  UXDKR  .Yl COLLET. 


3' 


aphical  Eu- 
loUet  North 


yr  just  long 
ehabituate 
ettle   upon 
,  had  also 
lis  request, 
ant  in   tlie 
(11.     Wash- 
D-day.     Ill- 
lia  Avenue 
2S  of  public 
ng  but  one 
le  Battery 
le  freedom 

and  loses 
p,  the  eye 
We  do 

the  mind, 

of  thought. 

Treat  relief, 

\at  first  im- 

en  me  has 


n. 


led  from  a 
the  Missis- 
id  its  capa- 
ey  were  of 
1  comment, 
/■ashington. 


with  the  object  of  engaging  him  to  make  a  complete  examination  of  the 
■Teat  prairie  region  between  the  Mississippi  and  Missouri  Rivers,  as  far 
north  as  the  British  line,  and  to  embody  the  whole  of  his  labors  in  a  map 
and  general  report  for  public  use. 

Mr.  Nicollet  had  left  France,  intending  to  spend  five  years  in  geo- 
crraphical  researches  in  this  country.  His  mind  had  been  drawn  to  the 
earlv  discoveries  of  his  countrymen,  some  of  which  were  being  obliterated 
and  others  obscured  in  the  lapse  of  time.  He  anticipated  great  pleasure 
in  renewing  the  memory  of  these  journeys,  and  in  rescuing  them  all  from 
the  obscurity  into  which  they  had  fallen.  A  member  of  the  French 
Academy  of  Sciences,  he  was  a  distinguished  man  in  the  circles  to  which 
Arago  and  other  savants  of  equal  rank  belonged.  Not  only  had  he  been 
trained  in  science,  but  he  was  habitually  schooled  to  the  social  observances 
which  make  daily  intercourse  attractive,  and  become  invaluable  where 
hardships  are  to  be  mutually  borne  and  difficulties  overcome  and  hazards 
met.  His  mind  was  of  the  higher  order.  A  musician  as  well  as  a  mathe- 
matician, it  was  harmonious  and  complete. 

The  Government  now  arranged  with  him  to  extend  his  surveys  south 
and  west  of  the  country  which  he  had  already  explored.  Upon  this  sur- 
vey 1  was  ordered  to  accompany  him  as  his  assistant. 

It  was  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  be  assigned  to  this  duty.  By  this  time 
I  had  gone  through  some  world-schooling  and  was  able  to  take  a  sober 
view  of  the  realities  of  life.  I  had  learned  to  appreciate  fully  the  rare  value 
of  the  friendly  aid  which  had  opened  up  for  me  such  congenial  employment, 
and  1  resolved  that,  if  it  were  in  me  to  do  so,  I  would  prove  myself  worthy 
of  it.  The  years  of  healthy  exercise  which  I  had  spent  in  open  air  had 
iiardened  my  body,  and  the  work  I  had  been  engaged  in  was  kindred  to 
tiiat  which  I  was  now  to  have.  iMeld  work  in  a  stri;nge  region,  in  associa- 
tion with  a  man  so  distinguished,  was  truly  an  unexpi^ctcd  guod  fortune, 
.uid  I  went  off  from  Washington  full  of  agreeable  anticipation. 

At  St.  Louis  I  joined  Mr.  Nicollet.  This  was  the  last  large  city  on  the 
western  border,  and  the  fitting-out  place  for  expeditions  over  the  unin- 
habited country.  The  small  towns  along  the  western  bank  of  the  Missouri 
made  for  two  or  three  hundred  miles  a  sort  of  fringe  to  the  prairies.  At 
St.  Louis  I  met  for  the  first  time  General  Robert  E.  Lee,  then  a  captain 
in  the  United  States  Engineer  Corps,  charged  with  improvements  of  the 
Mississippi  River.  He  was  already  an  interesting  man.  His  agreeable, 
triendly  manner  to  me  as  a  younger  officer  when  I  was  introduced  to  him, 
eft  a  more  enduring  impression  than  usually  goes  with  casual  introduc- 
tions. 

In  St.  Leu:::  Mr.  Nicollet  had  a  pleasant  circle  of  friends  among  the  old 
French  residents.     They  were  proud  of  him  as  a  distinguished  country- 


;,2  MEMOIRS  OF  .)fV  UlF.-JOIfX  ClfARf.F.S  FR/UfOXT. 

man,  and  were  gratified  with  his  employment  by  the  American  Govern- 
ment, which  in  this  way  recognized  his  distinction  and  capacity.  His  in- 
tention, in  the  prosecution  of  his  larger  work  to  revive  the  credit  due  to 
early  French  discoverers,  was  pleasing  to  their  national  pride. 

His  acquaintances  he  made  mine,  and  I  had  the  pleasure  and  advan- 
tage to  share  in  the  amiable  intercourse  and  profuse  hospitality  which  in 
those  days  characterized  the  society  of  the  plac(!.  He  was  a  Catholic,  and 
his  distinction,  together  with  his  refined  character,  made  him  always  a  wel- 
come guest  with  his  clergy.  And  I  may  say  in  the  full  sense  of  the  word, 
that  I  "  assisted  "  often  at  the  agreeable  suppers  in  the  refectory.  The 
pleasure  of  these  grew  in  remembrance  afterward,  when  hard  and  scanty 
fare  and  sometimes  starvation  and  consequent  bodily  weakness  made 
visions  in  the  mind,  and  hunger  made  memory  dwell  upon  them  by  day 
and  dream  of  them  by  night. 

Such  social  evenings  followed  almost  invariably  the  end  of  the  day's 
preparations.  These  were  soon  now  brought  to  a  close  with  the  kindly 
and  efficient  aid  of  the  Fur  Company's  officers.  Their  personal  experi- 
ence made  them  know  exactly  what  was  needed  on  the  proposed  voyage, 
and  both  stores  and  men  were  selected  by  them ;  the  men  out  of  those  in 
their  own  employ.  These  were  principally  practised  voyagcurs,  accustomed 
to  the  experiences  and  incidental  privations  of  travel  in  the  Indian  coun- 
try. 

The  aid  given  by  the  house  of  Chouteau  was,  to  this  and  succeeding 
expeditions,  an  advantage  Avhich  followed  them  throughout  their  course  to 
their  various  posts  among  the  Indian  tribes. 

Our  destination  now  was  a  trading  post  on  the  west  bank  of  the  Missis- 
sippi, at  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Peter's,  now  better  known  as  the  Mini- 
sotah  River.  This  was  the  residence  of  Mr.  Henry  Sibley,  who  was  in 
charge  of  the  Fur  Company's  interests  in  the  Mississippi  Valley.  He  gave 
us  a  frontier  welcome  and  heartily  made  his  house  our  headquarters. 
This  was  the  point  of  departure  at  which  the  expedition  began  its  work. 
It  was  on  the  border  line  of  civilization.  On  the  left  or  eastern  bank  of 
the  river  were  villages  and  settlements  of  the  whites,  and  the  right  was 
the  Indian  country  which  we  were  about  to  visit.  Fort  Snelling  was  on 
the  high  bluff  point  opposite  between  the  Mini-sotah  and  the  Mississippi. 
Near  by  was  a  Sioux  Indian  village,  and  usually  its  Indians  were  about 
the  house  grounds.  Among  these  I  saw  the  most  beautiful  Indian  girl  I 
have  ever  met,  and  it  is  a  tribute  to  her  singular  beauty  that  after  so 
many  years  I  remember  still  the  name  of  "  Ampetu-washtoy " — "the 
Beautiful  day." 

The  house  had  much  the  character  of  a  hunting-lodge.  There  were 
many  dogs  around  about,  and  two  large  wolfhounds,  Lion  and  Tiger,  had 


EXPEDITION  UNDER  NICOLLET. 


33 


1   Govern- 

Ilis  in- 

cdit  due  to 

ind  advan- 
y  which  in 
ithoHc,  and 
vays  a  wel- 
f  the  word, 
tory.  The 
and  scanty 
ness  made 
lem  by  day 

f  the  day's 
the  kindly 
)nal  experi- 
ed  voyage, 
of  those  in 
accustomed 
ndian  coun- 


succeeding 
ir  course  to 


the  Missis- 
the  Mini- 
who  was  in 
He  gave 
;adquarters. 
m  its  work, 
srn  bank  of 
J   right  was 
ing  was  on 
Mississippi, 
were  about 
ndian  girl  I 
\at  after  so 
toy"— "the 

There  were 
Tiger,  had 


the  run  of  the  house  and  their  quarters  in  it.  Mr.  Sibley  was  living  alone, 
and  these  fine  dogs  made  him  friendly  companions,  as  ht?  belonged  to  the 
men  who  love  dogs  and  horses.  For  his  other  dogs  lur  had  built  within 
the  enclosure  a  lookout  about  fifteen  feet  high.  Around  its  platform  Uie 
railing  was  usually  bordered  with  the  heads  of  dogs  resting  on  their  paws 
and  fooking  wistfully  out  over  the  prairie,  probably  reconnoitering  for 
wolves.  Of  the  two  hounds  Tiger  had  betrayed  a  temper  of  such  ferocity, 
even  against  his  master,  as  eventually  cost  him  his  life.  Lion,  though  a 
brother,  had,  on  the  contrary,  a  companionable  and  affectionate  disposition 
and  almost  human  intelligence,  which  in  his  case  brought  about  a  separa- 
tion from  his  old  home. 

On  the  man-iag(!  of  Mr.  .Sibley,  Lion  so  far  resented  the  loss  of  his  first 
place  that  he  left  the  house,  swam  across  the  Mississippi,  and  went  to  the 
Fort,  where  he  ended  his  days.  Always  he  was  glad  to  meet  his  mas- 
ter when  he  came  over,  keeping  close  by  him  and  following  him  to  the 
shore,  though  all  persuasion  failed  to  make  him  ever  recross  the  river  to 
the  home  where  he  had  been  supplanted  ;  but  his  life-size  portrait  still 
hangs  over  the  fireplace  of  Mr.  Sibley's  library.  These  dogs  were  of  the 
rare  breed  of  the  Irish  wolfhound,  and  their  story  came  up  as  an  incident 
in  a  correspondence,  stretching  from  Scotland  to  Mini-sotah,  on  the  ques- 
tion as  to  whether  it  had  not  become  extinct ;  growing  out  of  my  happen- 
ing to  own  a  dog  inheriting  much  of  that  strain. 

Cut  off  from  the  usual  resources,  Mr.  Sibley  had  naturally  to  find  his  in 
the  surroundings.  The  prominent  feature  of  Indian  life  entered  into  his, 
and  hunting  became  rather  an  occupation  than  an  amusement,  But  his 
hunting  was  not  the  tramp  of  a  day  to  some  neighboring  lake  for  wild  fowl, 
or  a  ride  on  the  prairie  to  get  a  stray  shot  at  a  wolf  These  hunting  ex- 
peditions involved  days'  journeys  to  unfrequented  ranges  where  large  game 
was  abundant,  or  in  winter  to  the  neighborhood  of  one  of  his  trading-posts, 
where  m  event  of  rough  weather  the  stormy  days  could  be  passed  in  shel- 
ter. He  was  fully  six  fee:  in  height,  well  and  strongly  built,  and  this,  to- 
gether with  his  skill  as  a  hunter,  gave  him  a  hold  on  the  admiration  and 
respect  of  the  Indians. 

In  all  this  stir  of  frontier  life  Mr.  Nicollet  felt  no  interest  and  took  no 
share;  horse  and  dog  were  nothing  to  him.  His  manner  of  life  had  never 
brought  him  into  their  companionship,  and  the  congenial  work  he  now  had 
in  charge  engrossed  his  attention  and  excited  his  imagination.  His  mind 
dwelt  continually  upon  the  geography  of  the  country,  the  Indian  names  of 
lakes  and  rivers  and  their  signification,  and  upon  whatever  tradition  might 
retain  of  former  travels  by  early  French  explorers. 

Some  weeks  had  now  been  spent  in  completing  that  part  ot  the  outfit 
which  had  been  referred  to  this  place.     The  intervening  time  had  been 


34 


A//..]/()/A'S  ()/■■  MV  LlfE—JOUX  CUARl.ES  FRl'MOW. 


\\\ 


used  to  rat«i  tlic  chronometers  and  make  necessary  observations  of  tlu 
latitude  and  longitutle  of  our  starting-point. 

At  length  we  set  out.  As  our  journey  was  to  he  o\-er  V-.w)  and  un- 
broken country  llie  canip  niati'rial  was  carriiil  in  one-horse  carts,  driven 
by  Canadian  vojageurs,  the  men  usually  employed  by  the  Ww  Com[)any 
in  their  business  through  this  region.  M.  de  Montniort,  a  ImcmicIi  gentle- 
man attached  to  the  legation  at  Washington,  and  Mr.  iuigene  l-landin,  a 
young  gentleman  belonging  to  a  I'Vench  family  of  New  \'ork,  accomiianicjd 
the  party  as  fri  ;nds  of  Mr.  Nicollet.  These  were  pleasant  travelling  com- 
panions, and  both  looked  up  to  Mr.  Nicollet  with  affectionate  defcrcn.'' 
and  admiration.  No  botanist  IkkI  been  allowed  to  Mr.  Nicollet  by  thu 
Government,  but  he  had  for  himself  em[)loyed  Mr.  Charles  (ie\er,  a  lioi- 
anist  recently  from  (njrmany,  of  unusual  practical  knowledge  in  his  i>ru- 
fession  and  of  companionable  disposition. 

The  proposed  surveys  of  this  northwestern  region  naturally  divided 
themselves  into  two  :  the  present  oxw.,  at  this  point  connecting  with  Mr. 
Nicollet's  surv(!ys  of  the  upper  Mississippi,  was  to  extend  westward  to  the 
waters  of  the  Missouri  Valley  ;  the  other,  intended  for  the  operations  of  the 
succeeding  year,  was  to  include  the  valley  of  the  Missouri  River,  and  the 
northwestern  prairies  as  far  as  to  the  nrilish  line. 

Our  route  lay  up  the  Mini-sotah  for  about  a  hundred  and  'ifteen  miles, 
to  a  trading-post  at  the  lower  end  of  t!' ".  Tiaverse  des  Sioux  ;  the  prairi 
and  river  valley  being  all  beautiful  and  fertile  country.  We  travc'''"'! 
along  the  southern  side  of  the  river,  passing  on  the  way  several  Indian 
camps,  and  establishing  at  night  the  course  of  the  river  by  astronomical  ob- 
servations. The  Traverse  des  Sioux  is  a  crossing-[)lace  about  thirty  milt- 
long,  where  the  river  makes  a  large  rectangular  bend,  coming  down  froiv 
the  northwest  and  turnmg  abruptly  to  the  northeast  ;  the  streams  from 
the  southeast,  the  south,  and  southwest  flowing  into  a  low  line  of  depres- 
sion to  where  they  gather  into  a  knot  at  the  head  of  this  bend,  and  into  its 
lowest  part  as  into  a  bowl.  In  this  great  elbow  of  the  river  is  the  Marah- 
tanka  or  Big  Swan  Lake,  the  summer  resort  ol  the  Sissiton  .Sioux.  Our 
way  over  the  crossing  lay  between  the  lake  and  the  ri\cr.  At  the  end  of 
the  Traverse  we  returned  to  the  right  shore  at  the  mou'h  ut  War.iju 

or  Cottonwood  River,  and  encamped  near  the  i  r!  1  village  of  the 
Sissitons.     Their  lodges  were  f)itched  in  a  beat  .nation,  und'r  large 

trees.  It  needs  only  the  slightest  incident  to  th.  ai  Indian  vili  ^e  into 
a  sudden  excitement  which  is  startling  to  a  strangi  .  W  were  occupied 
quietly  among  the  Indians,  Mr.  Nicollet,  as  usual,  surr^  inded  by  them, 
widi  the  aid  of  the  interpreter  getting  them  to  lay  out  the  form  of  the  lake 
and  the  course  of  the  streams  entering  the  river  near  by,  and,  after  repeated 
pronunciations,  entering  their  names  in  his  note-book;   Geyer,  followed  by 


if 


i 


'■;k 


i!  ''I! 


'"^. 


/■:.\7' /■:/>//'/ ox  UXDER  NlCOLUiT. 


%% 


,   of  thr 


and  uii- 

i,  drivi-ii 

uni[)ain- 

1  i4ciUl(:- 

aiidin,  a 

nij)ani(-'d 

in^f  coiii- 

'/,; 

efunn    • 

t  by  tlv 

■r,  a  boi- 

^ 

his  pru- 

'  divideil 

with  Mr. 

rd  to  the 

)ns  of  the 

,  and  the 

en  miles, 
le  prairi 
trav(  "'""'I 

1 

al  Indiari 

-'x 

mical  ol)- 

irty  mill- 
own  frnir. 

ims  from 

i  depres- 

d  into  ith 

e  Marah- 

ux.      Our 

le  end  of 

W'araju 
;(j   of  the 

■i 

d'T  large 

11,  .,0  into 

occupied 

'^k 

by  them, 
r  the  lake 

''•'.m. 

■  repeated 
lowed  by 

some  Indians,  curiously  watching  him  while  digging  up  plants  ;  and  I,  more 
numerously  atteniled,  pouring  out  the  c[uicksilver  for  the  artificial  liorizon, 
each  in  his  way  busy  at  work  ;  when  suddenly  everything  started  into  mo- 
tion, the  Indians  running  tumultuously  to  a  little  rise  which  commanded  a 
\  if'w  of  the  prairie,  all  clamor  and  excitement.  The  commotion  was  caused 
by  the  appearance  of  two  or  three  elk  on  the  prairie  horizon.  Those  of  us 
who  were  strangers,  and  ignorant  of  their  usages,  fancied  there  must  be  al 
least  a  war-party  in  sight. 

From  this  point  we  travelled  up  the  Waraju  River  and  passed  a  ftjw 
da\s  in  mapping  the  country  around  the  Pelican  Lakes,  and  among  tht- 
lower  spurs  of  the  Colcau  dcs  Pniirics,  a  plateau  which  separates  the 
waters  of  the  Mississippi  and  Missouri  Rivers.  This  is  the  single  idevation 
separating  the  prairies  of  the  two  rivers.  Approaching  it,  the  blue  line 
which  it  presents,  marked  by  wooded  ravines  in  contrast  with  the  green 
[)rairie  which  sweeps  to  its  feet,  suggested  to  the  voym^rurs  the  name  the\- 
gave  it,  of  liie  Prairie  Coast.  At  this  elevation,  about  fifteen  hundred  feet 
above  the  sea,  the  prairie  air  was  invigorating,  the  country  studded  with 
frequent  lakes  was  beautiful,  and  the  repose  of  a  few  days  was  refreshing 
to  men  ami  animals  after  the  warmer  and  moister  air  of  the  lower  valley. 
Throughout  this  region,  the  rivers  and  lakes,  and  other  noticeable  features 
of  the  country,  bear  French  and  Indian  names,  Sioux  or  Chippewa,  and 
sometimes  Shayan  (Cheyenne).  .Sometimes  they  perpetuate  the  memor\' 
of  an  early  French  discoverer,  or  rest  upon  some  distinguishing  local  char- 
acter of  stream  or  lake  ;  and  sometimes  they  record  a  simple  incident  of 
chase  or  war  which  in  their  limited  history  were  events. 

We  now  headed  for  our  main  object  in  this  direction,  the  Red  Pipe 
Stone  Quarry,  which  was  to  be  the  limit  of  our  western  travel ;  from  there 
we  were  to  turn  directly  north.  All  this  countr\-  had  been  a  battle-gro'ind 
between  the  Sioux  and  Sacs  and  F'oxes.  Crossing  the  high  plains  over 
which  our  journey  now  lay,  we  became  aware  that  we  were  followed  b)-  a 
party  of  Indians.  (Juard  at  night  was  necessary.  Hut  it  it'as  no  light 
thing,  after  a  day's  work  of  sketching  the  country,  to  stand  guard  the 
night  through,  as  it  now  fell  to  me  among  others  to  do.  When  we  would 
make  the  noon  halt  I  promptly  took  my  share  of  it  under  the  shade  of  a 
cart  in  deep  sleep,  which  the  fragrant  breeze  oi  the  prairie  made  delight- 
ful. 

Our  exaggerated  precautions  proved  useless,  as  the  suspected  hostile 
party  were  only  friendly  Sioux  who,  knowing  nothing  about  us,  were  on 
their  side  cautiously  watching  us. 

The  Indians  have  a  belief  that  the  Spirit  of  the  Red  Pipe  Stone  speaks 
in  thunder  and  lightning  whenever  a  visit  is  made  to  the  Quarry.  With 
a  singular  coincidence  such  a  storm  broke  upon  us  as  we  reached  it,  and 


36 


MF.MQIRS  OF  MY  r.I Fh—fOIiK  CIIARLKS  FREMONT. 


J     i 


i- 


the  confirmaticn  of  the  legend   was  pleasing  to  young  Renville  and  tlu; 
Sioux  who  had  accompanied  us. 

As  we  came  into  the  valley  the  storm  broke  away  in  a  glow  of  sun- 
shine on  the  line  of  r;:d  bluff  which  extended  for  about  three  miles.  'l"he 
day  after  our  arrix-al  'he  ]Kirty  of  Indians  we  hail  been  watching  came  in. 
We  :-;;;'nt  three  frif.ndly  days  together  ;  they  w(;re  after  the  red  pip(- 
stone,  and  we  helped  them,  1)y  using  gunpowder,  to  uncover  the  rock. 

It  wa.-.  in  itself  a  lovely  place,  made  interesting  by  the  mysterious  char 
acter  fiven  to  it  by  Indian  tradition,  and  because  of  the  fact  that  the  exis- 
tence of  such  a  rock  is  not  known  anywhere  else.  It  is  on  tlu;  land  of  ihi: 
Sissiton  Sioux,  but  the  other  Indians  make  to  it  annual  pilgrimages,  as  it 
is  from  this  they  make  their  images  and  pipes.  This  famous  stone,  where 
we  saw  it,  was  in  a  layer  about  a  foot  and  a  half  thick,  overlaid  by  some 
twenty-six  feet  (T  red-colored  indurated  sand-rock  ;  tlu;  color  diminishing 
in  intensity  from  the  base;  to  tlie  summit.  The  water  in  the  little  valley 
had  led  the  buffalo  through  it  in  their  yearlv  migration  from  north  to  south, 
and  the  tradition  is  that  their  trail  wore  away  the  surface  and  uncovered 
the  stone. 

There  was  a  detached  ])e(leslal  standing  out  a  few  feet  away  from  tin- 
bluff,  and  about  twenty-five  feet  high.  It  was  ([uite  a  feat  to  spring  I'j 
this  frorii  the  bluff,  as  the  top  was  barely  a  foot  stpiare  and  uneven,  and  ii 
ref|uired  a  sure  foot  not  to  go  further.  This  was  a  famous  place  of  the 
country,  and  nearly  all  of  us,  as  is  the  custom  in  famous  plac(;s  the;  world 
over,  car\ed  our  nam(;s  in  the  stone;.  It  speaks  for  the  enduring  ([uality 
of  this  rock  that  the  names  remain  distinct  to  this  day. 

When  the  position  had  beiMi  (;stal)lished  and  other  objects  of  the  visit 
acccjinplished,  we  took  up  the  northern  line  of  march  for  the  Lac  (]ui patlc. 
the  trading-post  and  residence  of  the  Renville  family. 

On  our  way  we  passed  through  and  mapped  the  charming  lake;  coun- 
try of  the  Colcan  des  J^iairies. 

The  head  of  the  Renville  family,  a  b'rench  Canadian,  was  a  l)order 
chief  B(;tween  him  and  the  P)ritish  line  was  an  unoccupied  region  of 
some  seven  hundrt;d  miles.  Over  all  the  Indian  tribes  which  ranged  thesr- 
])lains  he  had  a  controlling  influence  ;  they  obeyed  hirnsc^lf  and  his  son, 
who  was  a  firm-looking  man  of  decided  character.  Their  good  will  was  a 
passport  over  this  country. 

The  hospitable  reception  which  is  the  ruh;  of  tlu;  cinrntry  met  us  hero. 
I  take  pleasure  in  emphasizing  and  dwelling  on  this,  because  it  is  apart 
from  the  iiospitality  of  civili;.ed  life.  There  is  lively  satisfaction  on  both 
sides.  The  advent  of  strangers  in  an  isolated  place  brings  novelty  and 
excitement,  and  to  the  stranger  arriving,  there  is  great  enjoyment  in  tin; 
change   from  privations  and  watchful  unrest,  to  the  (juiet  safety  and  pro- 


i 


4 
I 


•>> 


SECOND  EX r EDITION  UNDER  N ICO E LET. 


37 


t  and  the 

i\v  of  sim- 
iles. The 
r  came  in. 

red   pipi- 
t  rock, 
-ious  char 
t  the  e.xis- 
and  of  ihi: 
ages,  as  il 
^ne,  where 
d  by  some 
liininishint,' 
little  valley 
,li  to  south, 

uiico\'ereil 

ly  from  tin- 
)  sprint;'  to 
iven,  and  ii 
)lac(!  of  the 
i  the;  world 
-int;-  quality 

of  the  visit 
c  (Jilt  paili. 

lake  couii- 

ls  a  bf)rder 
region  ot 
uiged  these 
nd  his  son, 
will  was  a 

net  us  here. 

it  is  apart 
ion  on  both 
novelty  and 

ncMit  in  tliR 
;ty  and  pro- 


fusion of  plenty  in  such  a  frontier  home.  Our  stay  here  was  made  very 
atrreeablc.  We  had  abundance  of  milk  and  fresh  meat  and  vegetables, 
all  seasoned  with  a  traveller's  appetite  and  a  hearty  welcome. 

To  "ratifv  us  a  game  of  Lacrosse  was  played  with  spirit  and  skill  by 
the  Indians.  '  Among  the  players  was  a  young  half-breed  of  unusual  height, 
who  was  incomparably  the  swiftest  runner  among  them,  lie  was  a  rela- 
tion (if  the  Renvilles  and  seemed  to  have  some  recognized  family  authority, 
for  during  the  play  he  would  seize  an  bidian  by  his  long  hair  and  hurl  him 
backward  to  the  ground  to  make  room  for  himself,  the  other  taking  it  as 

matter  of  course. 

Some  time  was  spent  here  in  visiting  the  various  lakes  near  by,  fixing 
their  position  and  gathering  information  concerning  the  character  of  the 
country  and  its  bulians.  This  o\'er,  and  the  limit  of  the  present  journey 
attaiiif  (I,  we  turned  our  faces  eastward  and  started  back  to  the  mouth  of 
the  .St.  I '(Iter's. 

Wliile  .Mr.  Nicollet  was  occupied  in  making  a  suivey  of  the  Lesueur 
Ki\!:r,  and  identifying  localities  and  verifying  accounts  of  preceding  trav- 
ellers, I  was  sent  to  make  an  examination  of  the  Mankato  or  Blue  l^arlh 
Kiver,  which  bori;  upon  the  subjects  he  had  in  view.  'Ihe  eastern  division 
of  the  expedition  now  closed  with  our  rrlurn  to  Mr.  Sibley's. 

Among  the  episodes  which  gave  a  liv(;lier  coloring  to  the  instructive 
part  of  this  campaign,  was  a  hunting  rxpedilion  on  which  I  went  with  Mr. 
Sibley.  With  him  also  went  M.  I'aribault,  a  favorite  com[)anion  of  his  on 
such,  occasions.  It  was  a  royal  hunt.  He  took  with  him  the  whole  of 
Red  1  )og's  village  -men,  women,  and  children.  Thf;  hunting-ground  was 
a  number  of  days'  journey  to  the  south,  in  lov  ay,  wh(;re  game  was  abun- 
dant ;  many  deer  and  some  elk.  It  was  in  November,  when  the  does  are 
in  their  hest  condition.  The  country  was  well  timber(;d  anil  watered, 
stretches  of  prairie  interspersed  with  clumps  and  lines  of  woods. 

I'^arK'  in  th(;  morning  the  chief  would  indicate  the;  camping-ground  for 
die  night,  and  the  men  sally  out  for  the  hunt.  The  women,  with  the  cam[) 
ecjuipage,  would  then  make  direct  for  the  spot  [jointed  out,  ordinarily  some 
grove  about  nine  n.iles  distant.  Toward  niglitfall  the  hunters  came  in 
with  their  gain';. 

The  (lay's  tramp  gave  a  lively  interest  to  the  principal  feature  which 
the  (am[)  [)r(;sent(;d  ;  along  the  woods  bright  fires,  where  fat  venison  was 
rdastiiig  on  sticks  before;  them,  or  stewing  with  corn  or  wild  rice  in  pots 
hanging  *"rom  tripods;  squaws  busy  over  the  cooking  and  children  'oiling 
ahoiit  (jver  the  ground.  No  sleep  is  better  or  more  restoring  than  follows 
such  a  dinner,  earned  by  such  a  day. 

On  the  march  one  day,  a  scpiaw  dropped  behind,  but  came  into  camp  a 
little  later  than  the  others,  bringing'  a  child  a  few  hours  old.     By  circum- 


3S 


ME.UOIRS  OF  MV  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


stance  of  birth  he  should  have  become  a  mighty  hunter,  but  long  before 
he  reached  man's  age  !ic  had  lost  birthright,  he  and  his  tribe,  and  I  doubt 
if  he  got  even  the  mess  of  pottage  for  ivhich  Esau  bartered  his.  During 
the  hunt  we  had  the  experience  of  a  pra'rie  fire.  We  were  on  a  detached 
excursion,  Sibley,  Faribault  and  I.  After  midnight  we  were  aroused  from  a 
sound  sleep  by  the  crackling  noise,  and  springing  to  our  feet,  found  our- 
selves surrounded,  without  a  minute  to  lose.  Gathi  ring  in  our  animals,  we 
set  fire  to  the  grass  near  our  tent,  transferring  quickly  animals  and  bag- 
gage to  the  cleared  ground.  The  fire  swept  past,  and  in  a  few  seconds 
struck  a  grove  of  aspens  near  by  and  leaped  up  the  trees,  making  a  wall  of 
flame  that  sent  a  red  glow  into  the  sky  brighter  even  than  the  waves  of 
fire  that  rolled  over  the  prairie.  We  lost  nothing,  only  tent  and  belong- 
ings a  little  blackened  with  the  smouldering  grass ;  but  the  harm  was  to 
the  woods  and  the  game. 

The  work  of  the  year  and  in  this  quarter  was  now  finished,  and  we  re- 
turned to  St.  Louis,  to  prepare  for  the  survey  of  the  more  western  divisioi; 
in  the  succeeding  year. 

A  partial  equipment  for  the  expedition  to  the  northwest  prairies  was 
obtained  in  St.  Louis.  Arrangements  had  previously  been  made  at  Lac 
qui  park,  during  the  preceding  journey,  for  a  reinforcement  of  men  to  meet 
the  party  eit  an  appointed  time  on  Riviere  a  Jacques,  a  tributary  to  the  Mis- 
souri River.  At  St.  Louis  five  men  were  engaged,  four  of  them  experi- 
enced in  prairie  and  mountain  travel  ;  one  of  them  Ftienne  Provost,  known 
as  I'/ionwic  lics  montagne:.  The  other  man  was  Louis  Zindel,  who  had 
seen  service  as  a  non-commissioned  ofticer  of  1  russian  artillery,  and  was 
skilled  in  making  rockets  and  fireworks.  We  left  St.  Louis  early  in  April, 
i<S3g,  on  board  the  Antelope,  one  of  the  American  Fur  Company's  steam- 
boats, which,  taking  its  customary  advantage  of  the  annual  rise  in  the  Mis- 
souri from  the  snows  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  was  about  starting  on  its 
regular  voyage  to  the  trading-posts  on  the  upper  waters  of  the  river. 

I'^or  nearly  two  months  and  a  iialf  we  were  struggling  against  the  cur- 
rent of  the  turbiil  river,  which  in  that  season  of  high  waters  was  so  swift 
and  strong  that  sometimes  the  boat  would  for  moments  stauv'  (juite  still, 
seeming  to  pause  to  gather  strength,  until  the  power  of  steam  asserted  it- 
self and  she  would  fight  her  way  into  a  smooth  reach.  In  places  the  riv^r 
was  so  embarrassed  with  snags  that  it  was  difficult  to  thread  a  way  among 
them  in  face  of  the  swift  carrent  and  treacherous  channel,  constantly 
changing.  Under  these  obstacles  avc  usualK-  laid  up  at  night,  making  fast 
to  the  '.jhore  at  some  convenient  place,  where  the  crew  could  cut  a  supply 
of  wood  for  the  next  day.  It  was  a  pleasant  journey,  as  little  disturbed 
as  fMi  the  ocean.  Once  above  the  settlements  of  the  lower  Missouri,  there 
were  no  sounds  to  disturb  the  stillness  but  the  echoes  of  the  high-pressure 


■-'^nm 


■  W. 


T. 

long  before 
and  I  doubt 
is.     During 
1  a  detacbed 
(Used  from  a 
:,  found  our- 
animals,  wc 
Is  and  bag- 
few  seconds 
ing  a  wall  of 
the  waves  of 
and  belong- 
harm  was  to 

1,  and  we  re- 
itern  division 

prairies  was 
made  at  Lac 
men  to  meet 
•y  to  the  Mis- 
them  experi- 
:)vost,  known 
el,  who  had 
ery,  and  was 
arly  in  April, 
)any's  steam - 
e  in  the  Mis- 
irling  on  its 
c  river, 
linst  the  cur- 
was  so  swift 
iJ  (juite  still, 
1  asserted  it- 
ices  the  rivt  r 

wav  amoniT 
1,  constantly 
,  making  last 

cut  a  supply 
tie  disturbed 

issouri,  there 

lighpressurc 


SECOND  EXPEDITION  UNDER  NICOLLET. 


39 


» 

•# 


steam-pipe,  which  travelled  far  along  and  around  the  shores,  and  the  inces- 
sant crumbling  away  of  the  banks  and  bars,  which  the  river  was  steadily 
undermining  and  destroying  at  one  place  to  build  up  at  another.  The 
stillness  was  an  impressive  feature,  and  the  constant  change  in  the  charac- 
ter of  the  river  shores  offered  always  new  interest  as  we  steamed  along. 
At  times  we  travelled  by  high  perpendicular  escarpments  of  light  colored 
rock,  a  fray  and  yellow  marl,  made  picturesque  by  shrubbery  or  trees  ;  at 
others  the  river  opened  out  into  a  broad  delta-like  expanse,  as  if  it  were 
-.  .proachino-  the  sea.  At  length,  on  the  seventieth  day  we  reached  Fort 
Pierre,  the  chief  post  of  the  American  Fur  Company.  This  is  on  the  right 
or  western  bank  of  the  river,  about  one  thousand  and  three  hundred  miles 
from  St.  Louis.  On  the  prairie,  a  few  miles  away,  was  a  large  village  of 
Yankton  Sioux.  Here  we  were  in  the  heart  of  the  Indian  country  and 
near  the  o-reat  buffalo  ranges.     Here  the  Indians  were  sovereign. 

This  was  to  be  our  starting-point  for  an  expedition  northward  over  the 
great  prairies,  to  the  British  line.  Some  weeks  were  spent  in  making  the 
remaining  preparations,  in  establishing  the  position  and  writing  up  jour- 
nals, and  in  negociations  with  the  Indians.  After  the  usual  courtesies  had 
been  exchanged  our  first  visit  to  their  village  was  arranged.  On  our  way 
we  were  met  by  thirty  of  the  principal  chiefs,  mounted  and  advancing  in 
line.  A  noble-looking  set  of  men  showing  to  the  best  advantage,  their  fine 
shoulders  and  breasts  being  partly  uncovered.  We  were  conducted  by 
them  to  the  village,  where  we  were  received  with  great  ceremony  by  other 
chiefs,  and  all  their  people  gathered  to  meet  us.  We  were  taken  into  a 
large  and  handsome  lodge  and  given  something  to  eat,  an  observance 
without  which  no  Indian  welcome  is  complete.  The  village  covered  some 
acres  of  ground,  and  the  lodges  were  pitched  in  regular  lines.  These 
were  large,  of  about  twenty  skins  or  more.  The  girls  were  noticeablv 
well  clothed,  wearing  finely  dressed  skins  nearly  white,  much  embroidered 
with  beads  and  porcupine  quills  dyed  many  colors ;  and  stuffs  from  the 
trading-post  completed  their  dress.  These  were  the  best  formed  and 
best  looking  Indians  of  the  plains,  having  the  free  bearing  belonging  with 
their  unrestrained  life  in  sunshine  and  open  air.  Their  mode  of  life 
had  given  them  the  uniform  and  smooth  development  of  breast  and  limb 
which  indicates  power,  without  knots  of  exaggerated  muscle,  and  the 
copper-bronze  of  their  skins,  burnt  in  by  many  suns,  increased  the  statue- 
like elfect.  The  buffalo  and  other  game  being  near,  ga\e  them  abundant 
food  and  means  to  obtain  from  the  trading-posts  what  to  them  were  luxu- 
ries. 

Having  made  the  customary  and  expected  presents  which  ratified  the 
covenants  of  good  will  and  free  passage  over  their  country,  we  left  the  vil- 
lage, escorted  half-way  by  the  chiefs. 


Ilf' 


;li 


,)1 
If' 


'f- 


i 


•  '^4 


•:,]l 


40 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE^JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


A  few  days  after  our  visit  to  the  village,  one  of  the  chiefs  came  to  the 
fort,  bringing  with  him  a  pretty  girl  of  about  eighteen,  handsomely  dressed 
ifter  the  manner  I  have  described.  Accompanied  by  her  and  the  inter- 
preter, he  came  to  the  room  opening  on  the  court  where  we  were  employed 
over  our  sketch-books  and  maps,  and  formally  offereil  her  to  Mr.  Nicollet 
as  a  wife  for  him.  This  placed  our  chief  for  a  moment  in  an  embarrassing 
position.  But,  with  ready  and  crafty  tact  he  explained  to  the  chief  that  he 
already  had  one,  and  that  the  dreat  I-'ather  would  not  permit  him  to  have 
two.  At  the  same  time  suggesting  that  the  younger  chief,  designating 
me,  had  none.  This  put  me  in  a  worse  situation.  But  being  at  bay,  I 
l^romptly  replied  that  I  was  going  far  away  and  not  coming  back,  and  did 
not  like  to  take  the  girl  away  from  her  people  ;  that  it  might  bring  bad 
luck ;  but  that  I  was  greatly  pleased  with  the  offer,  and  to  show  that  I 
was  so,  would  give  the  girl  a  suitable  present.  Accordingly,  an  attraclivi' 
package  of  scarlet  and  blue  cloths,  beads,  a  mirror,  and  other  trilles  was 
made  up,  and  they  left  us  ;  the  girl  (piite  satisfied  with  her  trousseau,  and 
he  with  other  suitable  presents  made  him.  Meantime  we  had  been  in- 
terested by  the  composure  of  the  girl's  manner,  who  during  the  proceed- 
ings had  been  quietly  leaning  against  the  door-post,  apparently  not  ill- 
pleased  with  the  matriinonial  conference. 

All  was  now  ready.  The  rating  of  the  chronometers  had  been  verified. 
Our  observations  had  placed  Fort  Pierre  in  latitude,  44"23'28",  longitude, 
ioo"i2'3o",  and  elevation  above  the  sea  14.56  feet.  Horses,  carts,  and 
provisions  had  been  obtained  at  the  fort  and  six  men  added  to  the  party  ; 
Mr.  May,  of  Kentucky,  and  a  young  man  from  Pembinah  had  joined  us. 
They  were  on  their  way  to  the  British  Colony  of  the  Red  River  of  the 
North.  William  Dixon  and  Louison  I'renicre  had  been  encjasjed  as  in- 
terpreters  and  guides.  Both  of  these  were  half-breeds,  well  known  as  fine 
horsemcm  and  famous  hunters,  as  well  as  most  experienced  guides.  The 
party  now  consisted  of  nineteen  pt;rsons,  thirty-three  horses,  and  ten  carts. 
With  Mr.  Nicollet,  Mr.  fjeyer,  who  was  again  our  botanist,  and  myseli. 
was  an  officer  of  the  I'Vench  army.  Captain  Belligny,  who  wished  to  use  so 
good  an  occasion  to  see  the  Indian  ct)untry.  We  reached  the  eastern  shore 
with  ail  our  equipage  in  good  order,  and  made  camp  for  the  night  at  the 
foot  of  the  river  hills  opposite  th(!  fort.  The  hills  leading  to  the  prairie 
plateau,  about  \\\ii  hundretl  feet  above  the  river,  were  rough  and  broken 
into  ravines.  We  had  liarely  reached  the  upland  when  the  hunters  came 
galloping  in,  and  the  shout  of /(?  vachcl  la  vachc  !  rang  through  thecamii, 
everyone  repeating  it,  and  e\eryone  excited. 

A  held  of  buffalo  had  been  discovered,  coming  down  to  water.  In  a 
few  moments  the  buffalo  horses  were  saddled  and  the  hunters  mounted, 
each  with  a  smooth-bore,  single  or  double-barrelled  gun,  a  handkerchiet 


':M 


:ame  to  the 
ely  dressed 

the  inter- 
e  employcil 
Ir.  Nicollet 
ibarrassini; 
hief  that  he 
lim  to  have 
designating^ 
l;-  at  bay,  1 
,ck,  and  did 

brin.f,''  bad 
diow  that  I 
n  attractive 

trifles  was 
.isseaii,  and 
ad  been  in- 
he  proceed- 
ritly  not  ill- 

ten  verified. 
',  longitude, 
carts,  and 
the  party ; 
1  joined  us. 
Liver  of  the 
aged  as  in- 
lown  as  fine 
.lides.  The 
id  ten  carts, 
and  mysell. 
lhI  to  use  so 
astern  shore 
night  at  the 
1  the  prairie 
ami  broken 
unters  canu 
di  the  camp, 


-,s;^> 


/ater.      In  a 

rs  mounted, 

andkerchief 


CHEYENNE   BELLE. 


I 


SECOND  EXPEDITION  UNDER  N/COI.LET. 


41 


bound  fillet-like  around  the  head,  and  all  in  the  scantiest  clothing.  Con- 
spicuous among  them  were  Dixon  and  Louison.  To  this  latter  I  then, 
and  thereafter,  attached  myself. 

My  horse  was  a  good  one,  an  American,  but  grass-fed  and  prairie-bred. 
Whether  he  had  gained  his  experience  among  the  whites  or  Indians  I  do 
not  know,  but  he  was  a  good  hunter  and  knew  about  buffalo,  and  badger 
holes  as  well,  and  when  he  did  get  his  foot  into  one  it  was  not  his  fault. 

Now  1  was  to  see  the  buffalo.  This  was  an  event  on  which  my  imagina- 
tion had  been  ilwelling.  I  was  about  to  realize  the  tales  the  mere  telling 
of  which  was  enough  to  warm  the  taciturn  Renville  into  enthusiastic  expres- 
sion and  to  rouse  all  the  hunter  in  the  excitable  Frenicre. 

The  prairie  over  which  we  rode  was  rolling,  and  we  were  able  to  keep 
well  to  leeward  and  out  of  sight  of  the  herd.  Riding  silently  up  a  short 
slope,  we  came  directly  upon  them.  Not  a  hundred  yards  below  us  was 
the  i^^reat,  compact  mass  of  animals,  moving  slowly  along,  feeding  as  they 
went,  and  making  the  loud  incessant  grunting  noise  peculiar  to  them. 
There  they  were. 

The  moment's  pause  that  we  made  on  the  summit  of  the  slope  was 
enough  to  put  the  herd  in  motion.  Instantly  as  we  rose  the  hill,  they  saw 
us.  There  was  a  sudden  halt,  a  confused  wavering  movement,  and  then 
a  headlong  rout ;  the  hunters  in  their  midst.  How  I  got  down  that  short 
hillside  I  never  knew.  F"rom  the  moment  I  saw  the  herd  I  never  saw  the 
ground  again  until  all  was  over.  I  remember,  as  the  charge  was  made, 
seeing  the  bulls  in  the  rear  turn,  then  take  a  few  bounds  forward,  and  then, 
turning  for  a  last  look,  join  the  headlong  flight. 

As  they  broke  into  the  herd  the  hunters  separated.  For  some  instants 
1  saw  them  as  they  showed  through  the  clouds  of  dust,  but  I  scarcely  no- 
ticed them.  I  was  finding  out  what  it  was  to  be  a  prairie  hunter.  \\'(; 
were  only  some  few  miles  from  the  river,  hardly  clear  of  the  breaks  of  the 
hills,  and  in  places  the  ground  still  rough.  But  the  only  things  visible  to 
me  in  our  flying  course  were  the  buffalo  and  the  dust,  and  there  was  tu- 
mult in  Miy  breast  as  well  as  around  me.  I  made  repeated  ineffectual  at- 
tempts to  steady  myself  for  a  shot  at  a  cow  after  a  hard  struggle  to  get 
up  with  her,  and  each  time  barely  escaped  a  fall.  In  such  work  a  man 
must  be  able  to  forget  his  horse,  but  my  horsemanship  was  not  yet  equal 
to  such  a  proof  At  the  outset,  wdien  the  hunters  had  searched  over  the 
herd  and  singled  out  each  his  fattest  cow,  and  made  his  dash  upon  her, 
the  herd  broke  into  bands  which  s[)rcad  over  the  plain.  I  clung  to  that 
where  1  found  myself,  unwilling  to  give  up,  until  I  found  that  neither 
horse  nor  man  could  bear  the  strain  longer.  Our  furious  speed  had  car- 
ried us  far  out  over  the  prairies.  Only  some  straggling  groups  were  in 
sight,  loping  slowly  off,  seemingly  conscious  that  the  chase  was  over.     I 


: 


!         1 


;[!         il 


\     r  ; 


42 


J//;.I/('/A'.V  ()/•■  J/J'  l.n-F.fOlJX  CHARLES  FRK.MO.VT. 


dismounted  and  reloaded,  and  sat  down  on  the  grass  for  a  while  to  give 
us  both  rest.  I  could  nowhere  see  any  of  my  companions,  and,  except 
that  it  lay  somewhere  to  the  south  of  where  I  was,  I  had  no  idea  where  to 
look  for  the  camp.  The  sun  was  getting  low,  and  I  decided  to  ride  tli- 
rectly  west,  thinking  that  I  might  reach  the  river  hills  above  the  fort  while 
there  was  light  enough  for  me  to  find  our  trail  of  the  morning.  In  this 
way  I  could  not  miss  the  camp,  but  for  the  time  being  I  was  lost. 

My  horse  was  tired  and  1  rode  slowly.  He  was  to  be  my  companion 
and  reliance  in  a  long  journey,  and  I  would  not  press  him.  The  sun  went 
down,  and  th(M-e  was  no  sign  that  the  river  was  near.  While  it  was  still 
light  ;in  anlelopecame  circling  round  me,  but  I  would  not  fire  at  him.  His 
appearance  a!ul  strange  conduct  seemed  uncanny  but  companionable,  and 
the  echo  to  my  gun  might  not  be  a  pleasant  one.  Long  after  dark  I  struck 
upon  a  great  number  of  paths,  deeply  worn,  and  running  along  together 
in  a  broad  roadway.  They  were  leading  directly  toward  the  river,  and  1 
supposed,  to  the  fort.  With  my  an.xieties  all  relieved  I  was  walking  con- 
tentedly along,  when  I  suddenly  recognized  that  these  were  buffalo-traiis 
leading  to  some  accustomed  great  watering-place.  The  discovery  was 
something  of  a  shock,  but  I  gathered  myself  together  and  walked  on.  I 
had  been  for  some  time  'fading  my  horse.  Toward  midnight  I  reached 
the  breaks  of  the  river  hills  at  a  wooded  ravine,  and  just  then  I  saw  a 
rocket  shoot  up  into  the  sky,  far  away  to  the  south.  That  was  camp,  but 
apparently  some  fifteen  miles  distant,  impossible  for  me  to  reach  by  the 
rough  way  in  the  night  around  the  ravines.  .So  I  led  my  horse  to  the 
brink  of  the  ravine,  and  going  down  I  found  water,  which,  /;■  pliisiciirs 
tcpriscs,  I  brought  up  to  him,  using  my  straw  hat  for  a  bucket.  Takini; 
off  his  saddle  and  bridle,  and  fastening  him  by  his  long  lariat  to  one  of  the 
stirrups,  I  made  a  pillow  of  the  saddle  and  slept  soundly  until  morning. 
He  did  not  disturb  me  much,  giving  an  occasional  jerk  to  my  pillow,  just 
enough  to  let  me  see  that  all  was  right. 

At  the  first  streak  of  dawn  I  saddled  up.  I  had  laid  my  ^w\\  by  my 
side  in  the  direction  where  I  had  seen  the  rocket,  and  riding  alone  that 
way,  the  morning  was  not  far  advanced  when  I  saw  three  men  riding  toward 
me  at  speed.  They  did  not  slacken  their  |)ac(.'  until  they  came  directly  uji 
against  mo,  when  the  foremost  touched  me.  It  was  Louison  Frenii  re. 
A  reward  had  been  promised  by  Mr.  Nicollet  to  the  first  who  should  touch 
me,  and  Louison  won  it.      .And  thi'^  was  the  end  of  my  first  buffalo  hunt. 

The  cam]!  gathered  around  all  glad  to  see  me.  To  be  lost  on  the 
|)rairie  in  an  Indian  country  is  a  serious  accident,  involving  many  chances, 
and  no  one  was  disposed  to  treat  it  lightly.  Our  party  was  made  up  ol 
men  experienced  in  prairie  and  in  mountain  travel,  exposed  always  to 
unforeseen  incidents. 


I 


"-4 


Hi 

■5' 


Ic  to  give 
nd,  except 
n  where  to 
to  ride  di- 
;  fort  while 
(r.      In  this 

t. 

companion 
e  sun  went 

it  was  sdll 
;  him.     His 
rmable,  and 
irl<.  I  struck 
i-T  together 
river,  and  1 
s'alking  con- 
niffalo-traiis 
CO  very  was 
dked  on.     I 
It  I  reached 
len  I  saw  a 
,s  camp,  but 
each  by  the 
orse   to  thi' 

h  plusieun 
et.     Taking 

o  one  of  the 

itil  mornini;. 
pillow,  just 

oun  bv  mv 
along  that 

iliig  toward 
directly  ui' 
)n  Frenicre. 
diould  touch 
iffalo  hunt. 

lost  on  thr 
any  chances, 

made  up  oi 
d  always  to 


% 


•I 


\  .11 


■  H        ! . 


1 

: 

i 

1^ 

: 

1 

! 

: 

i     .  ' 

1 

i 

1 

SECOND  F.XPEDfTIOX  UNDER  NfCOLl.ET. 


4i 


When  Frcnicre  left  the  caiii[)  in  search  of  me  he  had  no  hesitation 
about  where  to  look.  In  the  rollin^^  country  over  which  the  hunt  lay 
it  would  have  been  merely  an  accident  to  fmd  either  camp  or  water,  lie 
knew  I  would  not  venture  the  chance,  but  would  strike  directly  for  the 
river;  and  so  in  leaviny  camp  he  kept  the  open  ground  along  the  heads 
of  the  ravines,  confident  that  he  would  either  fmd  nic  or  my  trail.  He 
was  sure  I  would  remain  on  the  open  ground  at  the  first  water  I  found. 
He  knew,  too,  as  I  did  not,  that  from  the  Fort  the  valley  of  the  river 
trended  to  the  northwest,  by  this  increasing  the  distance  I  had  to  travel  ; 
still  farther  increased  by  a  large  bend  in  which  die  river  sweeps  off  to 
the  westward.  On  the  maps  in  common  us<,'  it  was  nearly  north  and 
south,  and  had  it  really  been  so  in  fact  I  should  have  reached  the  breaks 
while  it  was  still  light  enough  for  me  to  see  the  Fort  or  recognize  our 
crossing-place,  and  perhaps  to  find  my  way  to  the  camp.  All  the  same 
1  had  made  an  experience  and  it  had  ended  well. 

The  camp  equipage  being  carried  in  carts,  and  not  packed  upon  mules, 
the  gearing  up  was  cjuickly  done  ;  but  meanwhile  I  had  time  for  a  fine 
piece  of  fat  buffalo-meat  standing  already  roasted  on  a  stick  before  the 
fire,  and  a  tin  cup  of  good  coffee.  My  horse  and  I  did  a  fair  share  of 
walking  on  this  day's  march,  and  at  every  unusually  good  spot  of  grass  I 
took  the  bit  from  his  mouth  and  let  him  have  the  chance  to  recruit  from 
the  night  before. 

W'c  were  now  on  the  upland  of  the  Coteaii  dn  Missouri,  here  1,960 
feet  above  the  sea.  Travelling  to  the  northeastward  our  camp  '"ir  the 
night  was  made  by  a  fork  of  the  Medicine  Bow  River,  the  last  running 
water  our  line  would  cross  until  we  should  reach  the  waters  of  the 
Riviere  It  Jacques  on  the  eastern  slopes  of  the  plateau.  On  the  open 
plains  water  is  found  only  in  ponds;  not  always  permanent,  and  not 
frequent. 

IVom  the  top  of  the  hill  which  gives  its  name  to  the  stream  where 
we  had  encamped  the  view  was  over  great  stretches  of  level  prairie, 
fading  into  the  distant  horizon,  and  unbroken  except  by  the  many  herd.s 
of  buffalo  which  made  on  it  dark  spots  that  locked  like  groves  of  timber; 
here  and  there  pufts  of  dust  rising  from  where  the  bulls  were  rolling  or 
fighting.  On  these  high  plains  the  buffalo  feed  contentedl)-,  and  good 
buffalo  grass  usuallj-  marks  the  range  where  they  are  found.  The  occa- 
sional ponds  give  them  water,  and,  for  them,  the  rivers  are  never  far  away. 
This  was  the  Fourth  of  July.  I  doubt  if  any  boy  in  the  country  found 
more  joy  in  his  fireworks  than  I  did  in  my  midnight  rocket  with  its  silent 
message.  Water  and  wood  to-night  were  abundant,  and  with  plenty  in 
camp  and  buffalo  all  around  we  celebrated  our  independence  of  the  outside 
world. 


f       ! 


':1 


t| 


44 


MEMOIRS  OF  MV  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRflMONT. 


Some  ilays  wcrf!  now  occupied  in  making  the  crossing  of  the  plateau ; 
our  line  being  fixed  by  astronomical  positions,  and  the  level  prairie  rc- 
(juircd  no  sketching.  I  spent  these  days  with  I'renicrc  among  the  buffalo. 
Sometimes  when  we  had  gotten  too  far  ahead  of  our  caravan  it  was  an 
enjoyment  to  lie  in  careless  ease  on  the  grass  by  a  pond  and  be  refresheil 
b)-  the  breeze  which  carrii-d  with  it  the  fragrance  of  the  prairie,  lodged 
with  grasses  growing  into  the  clear  water,  and  making  a  fresh  border 
aroimd  them,  these  resting-spots  arc  rather  lakelets  than  pond.;. 

The  grand  simi)licity  of  the  prairie  is  its  peculiar  beauty,  and  its  occur- 
ring events  are  peculiar  and  of  their  own  kind.  The  uniformity  is  never 
sameness,  and  in  his  e.xhilaration  the  voyager  feels  even  the  occasional 
field  of  red  grass  waving  in  the  breeze  pleasant  to  his  eye.  And  whatever 
the  object  may  be — whether  horseman,  or  antelope,  or  buffalo — that  breaks 
the  distant  outline  of  the  prairie,  the  surrounding  circumstances  are  of 
necessity  always  such  as  to  give  it  a  special  interest.  The  horseman  may 
prove  to  be  enemy  or  friend,  but  the  always  existing  uncertainty  has  its 
charm  of  excitement  in  the  one  case,  and  the  joy  of  the  chase  in  the  other. 
There  is  always  the  suspense  of  the  interval  needed  to  verify  the  strange 
object ;  and,  long  before  the  common  man  decides  anything,  the  practised 
eye  has  reached  certainly.  This  was  the  kind  of  lore  in  which  Freniere 
was  skilled,  and  with  him  my  prairie  education  was  continued  under  a 
master.  He  was  a  reckless  rider.  Never  troubling  himself  about  im- 
pediments, if  the  shortest  way  after  his  buffalo  led  through  a  pond  through 
it  he  plunged.  Going  after  a  band  on  one  of  these  days  we  came  upon  a 
long  stretch  of  shallow  pond  that  we  had  not  seen,  and  which  was  thickly 
sown  with  boulders  half  hidden  in  tall  grass  and  water.  As  I  started  to 
go  around  he  shouted,  "  In  there — in  !  Tout  droit  !  f ant  pas  craindrc  Ic 
c/u'vai."  And  in  we  went,  floundering  through,  happily  without  breaking 
bones  of  ourselves  or  our  horses.  It  was  not  the  horse  that  I  was  afraid 
of;    I  did  not  like  that  bed  of  rocks  and  water. 

Crossing  the  summit  level  of  the  plateau  we  came  in  sight  of  the  beau- 
tiful valley,  here  about  seventy  miles  broad,  of  the  Rivilre  a  yacqucs,  its 
scattered  wooded  line  stretching  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  Descending 
the  slope  we  saw  in  the  distance  ahead  moving  objects,  soon  recognized 
as  horsemen  ;  and  before  these  could  reach  us  a  clump  of  lodges  came 
into  view.  They  proved  to  be  the  encampment  of  about  a  hundred 
Indians,  to  whom  Dixon  and  Freniere  were  known  as  traders  of  the  Fur 
Company.  After  an  exchange  of  friendly  greetings  our  camp  was  pitched 
near  by.  Such  a  rare  meeting  is  an  e.xciting  break  in  the  uneventful 
Indian  life ;  and  the  making  of  presents  gave  a  lively  expression  to  the 
good  feeling  with  which  they  received  us,  and  was  followed  by  the  usual 
Indian  rejoicing.     After  a  conference  in  which  our  line  of  travel  was  in- 


SECOND  EXPEDirrON  UNDER  NICOLLET. 


4! 


)lateau ; 
liric  rc- 
buffalo. 
was  an 
ifreshed 

Edged 

border 

ts  occur- 
is  never 
ccasionnl 
d'hatever 
at  breaks 
s  are  ot 
man  may 
:y  has  its 
;he  other. 
z  strange 
practised 
1  Freniere 
1  under  a 
ibovit  im- 
through 
e  upon  a 
s  thickly 
tarted  to 
-ainiire  Ic 
breaking 
as  afraid 

I  the  beau- 
uqucs,  its 
lescending 
lecognized 
l(res   came 
hundred 
If  the  Fur 
is  pitched 
meventful 
[on  to  the 
[the  usual 
lei  was  in- 


dicated, the  chief  offered  Mr.  Nicollet  an  escort,  the  country  being  un- 
certain, but  the  offer  was  declined.  The  rendezvous  for  our  expected 
rtiiiforrement  was  not  far  away,  and  Indians  with  us  might  only  prove 
thr  occasion  for  an  attack  in  the  event  of  meeting  an  unfriendly  band. 
They  had  plenty  of  good  buffalo-meat,  and  the  squaws  had  gathered  in 
a  (luantit)'  of  the  pommes  tics  prairies,  or  prairie  turnips  {Psoralia  escu- 
Iciita),  which  is  their  chief  vegetable  food,  and  abundant  on  the  prairie. 
They  slice  and  dry  this  for  ordinary  and  winter  use. 

Travelling  down  the  .slope  of  the  coteau,  in  a  descent  of  750  feet 
we  reached  the  lake  of  "The  Scattered  Small  Wood,"  a  handsome  but 
deceptive  bit  of  water,  agreeable  to  the  eye,  but  with  an  unpleasant 
brackish  taste. 

About  two  years  ago  I  received  a  letter,  making  of  me  some  inquiries 
concerning  this  beautiful  lake  country  of  the  Northwest.  In  writing  now 
of  the  region  over  which  I  had  travelled,  I  propose  to  speak  of  it  as 
1  had  seen  it,  preserving  as  far  as  possible  its  local  coloring  of  the  time ; 
shutting  out  what  I  may  have  seen  or  learned  of  the  changes  years  have 
wrought.  Bu^  since  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing,  I  have  not  seen  this 
country.  Looking  over  it,  in  the  solitude  where  I  left  it,  its  broad  valleys 
and  great  plains  untenanted  as  I  saw  and  describe  them,  I  think  that  the 
curiosity  and  interest  with  which  I  read  this  letter,  will  also  be  felt  by  any 
who  accompany  me  along  these  pages.  Under  this  impression,  anti  be- 
cause the  writer  of  the  letter  had  followed  our  trail  to  this  point-  the 
"Lake  of  the  Scattered  Small  Wood"—  i  give  it  here  : 

•'  Iowa  Cnv,  Ia.,  February  13,  18S4. 

.  .  .  .  "This  I  write  feeling  that  as  you  have  devoted  your  life 
to  engineering  and  scientific  pursuits,  it  will  be  at  least  a  gratification 
(o  receive  a  letter  upon  such  subjects  as  are  connected  vvith  what  you 
have  done.  It  has  been  my  fortune  to  locate  and  construct  railway  lines 
for  the  Chicago  &  Northwestern  Railway  in  Minnesota  and  Dakota, 
in  doing  which  I  have  surveyed  not  less  than  three  thousand  mile^  of  line, 
and  in  so  doing  have  passed  over  a  very  large  extent  of  the  surface  of  that 
region.  While  doing  this  work  I  have  been  led  to  inquire  into  the  cli- 
mate of  that  remarkable  region.  I  visited  many  places  which  you  in  1S3S 
discovered  and  named.  Among  these  are  Lakes  Benton  and  Hendricks, 
the  first  about  twenty  miles  north  of  the  famous  '  Red  Pipe  Stone  Quarry,' 
a  very  fine  sheet  of  water,  along  the  south  shore  of  which  I  located  the 
railroad,  and  there  has  sprung  up  a  fine  town  called  Lake  Benton.  West 
of  thir,.  In  Dakota,  and  on  the  west  side  of  the  Big  Sioux  River,  is  a  lake 
region,  to  many  of  the  lakes  in  which  you  gave  names,  and  it  is  to  this 
locality  that  I  wish  to  particularly  call  your  attention.     These  lakes  bear 


TT 


!■  I 

I 

i 


40 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  I  IFI-.-JOIIX  C//.lK/./:s  1  R EMOXJ: 


the  names  of  Thompson,  \\'hitewoo(.l,  Preston,  Te-tonka-ha,  Abort  (now- 
changed  to  Albert),  I'vjiiisett,  and  Kampeska.  The  last  named  is  at  the 
head  of  the  Big  Siorx,  and  l^oinsett  a  few  miles  to  the  southward. 

"  When  I  constructed  the  Dakota  Central  Railway  in  1S79-  80,  all  these 
lakes  excepting  Thompson,  Pjinsttt,  .ind  Kampeska,  were  dry ;  and  it  took 
\\v~i  a  long  time  and  no  small  research  to  ascertain  when  they  last  held 
water  They  had  been  known  to  be  dry  for  the  twenty-five  \ears  pre- 
ceding 1879,  or  at  least  persons  who  had  liv(;d  there  or  in  the  vicinity  for 
twenty-five  years  said  that  the  lakes  were  dry  when  they  came  into  the 
locality,  and  had,  with  numerous  smaller  ones,  been  dry  ever  since  ;  and  all 
wh(>  knew  about  them  hail  a  theory  that  they  had  dried  up  long  since,  and 
thai  tiiey  never  would  fill  again  ;  but  I  found  okl  I'renchmen  who  had  seen 
these  lakes  full  of  water  in  1843-46,  and  I.  in  studying  over  the  matter, 
found  tliat  )-ou  had  seen  and  named  thein  in  1836-38,  and  I  would  thank 
you  very  much  if  you  will  take  the  time  and  trouble  to  ilescribe  them  to 
me  as  you  saw  them  then. 

'■  1  came  \  ery  near  locating  the  railroad  line  through  Lake  Preston,  for 
the  head  men  of  die  railroad  company  believed  that  it  had  dried  up  for  all 
time  ;  but  on  my  presenting  the  testimony  of  cerv.ain  reliable  voyageurs, 
they  allowed  me  to  go  around  it.  It  was  v.ell  that  they  did,  for  the  winter 
of  1880  81  gave  a  snow-fall  such  as  had  not  been  seen  since  the  years 
;  143  44,  and  in  the  spring  of  1881  all  these  lakes  filled  up,  bank  full,  and 
Ii.ive  continued  so  ever  since.  1  had  the  pleasure  of  comparing  my 
engineer's  levels  for  elevation  above  the  sea  with  your  barometer  deter- 
mination at  Fort  Pierre  on  the;  Missouri  River,  ^'our  altitude  was  1,450 
ieet,  mine  was  1,437,  ^'^'^  dift'erence  13  feet,  M\-  determination  is  within 
the  limits  of  ±  6  feet.  The  distance  over  which  my  levels  were  taken  was 
680  miles,  and  were  well  checked,  1  Jso  followed  up  your  trail  as  you 
marched  from  P'ort  Pierre  northeasterly  to  the  '  Scaitcrcd  Small  Wood 
Lake!  I  was  so  successful  as  to  verify  your  barometer  readings  in  sev- 
eral instances  b}-  checking  with  mine,  and  in  no  case  fotnd  over  15  feet 
dift'erence  between  us,  and  that  alwa)s  in  the  same  relatici  as  at  Fort 
Pierre.  Hoping  that  )oii  will  excuse  this  long  letter,  and  that  you  may 
be  able  to  tell  me  if  those  lakes  were  dry  when  you  saw  them,  or  other- 
wise, and  add  any  other  information  you  see  fit, 

"  I  am,  truly  yours, 

"  C.   W.   Irish,  C.  E." 

The  next  day  we  reached  the  Riviere  a  Jacques,  at  the  Tallr  dc  Clu'ncs, 
a  clump  of  oaks  which  was  the  rend<'/.vous  where  our  expected  reinforce- 
ment was  to  meet  us.  The  river  \alley  here  is  aboi.t  seventy  miles  wide. 
Observations  made  during  the  four  days  that  we  remained  at  the  I'alle  do 


SECOND  EXPEDITION  UNDER  NICOLLET. 


47 


Chcncs  pUicc  it  in  latitude  45  16'  34",  longitude  98°  7"  ^^5,  and  the 
L-levation  above  the  sea  1,341  feet.  At  the  end  of  this  time,  no  one  ap- 
l)carin'^  the  party  again  took  up  the  line  of  march,  and,  following  the  right 
bank,  on  the  evening  of  the  14th  encamped  near  the  mouth  of  Elm  River. 
This  river  and  its  forks  are  well  limbered,  and  for  the  reason  that  they 
furnish  hrcwootl  and  shelter,  Indian  hunting  parties  make  it  their  winter 
crossing-place  on  the  way  westward  after  buffalo  on  the  Missouri  plateau. 

On  the  hi'di  plains  the  winter  storms  are  dangerous.  Many  talcs  are 
told  of  hunters  caught  out  in  a  poudreric  with  no  timber  near,  when  it  is 
impossible  to  see  one's  way,  and  every  landmark  is  obliterated  or  hidden 
b\-  the  driving  snow.  At  such  times  the  iv-rter  has  no  other  resource 
than  to  dig  for  himself  a  hole  in  the  snow,  leaving  only  a  breathing-place 
above  his  h(;ad,  and  to  remain  in  it  wrapped  in  his  blankets  until  the  storm 
passes  over ;  when,  putting  on  the  dry  socks  and  moccasins  which  he 
;;l\vays  carries,  he  makes  for  the  nearest  wood. 

The  buffalo  herds,  when  caught  in  such  storms  and  no  timber  in  sight, 
huddle  together  in  compact  masses,  all  on  the  outside  crowding  and  fight- 
iiit;-  to  get  to  the  inside  ;  and  so,  kept  warm  by  the  struggling,  incessant 
p.iolioii,  the  snow  meanwhile  being  stamped  away  under  their  feet,  protect 
themselves  from  the  fiercest  storms. 

For  several  days  we  travelled  up  the  valley  of  the  Jacques,  making 
astronomical  stations,  and  collecting  material  for  '  Ir.  Nicollet's  map.  Oc- 
casionally, to  the  sanie  end,  I  was  detached,  with  Dixon  or  b>eniere,  on 
topographical  excursions,  which  gave  me  a  good  general  knowledge  of 
the  country  along  the  route.  At  the  i^^/A- rt^.r  Os  (Ronellill),  in  latitude 
46'  27'  i"]" ,  longitude  98°  8'  elevation  above  the  sea  1,400  feet,  we 
left  the  Riviirc  a  Jacques,  or  Chaji-sansan,  its  valley  extending  appar- 
ently far  in  a  coiu'se  to  w  st  of  north,  antl  in  a  few  miles  we  reached  the 
height  of  land  which  separates  it  from  the  Shayen  River.  This  is  a  trib- 
utary to  the  Re'i  River  of  the  North,  and  was  formerly  the  home  of  the 
.Shayens,  to-da)-  written  Cheyennes.  In  the  incessant  wars  betv.een  the 
\arious  tribes  of  this  region  tJie  .Shayens  were  driven  from  their  countrj- 
over  the  Missouri  River  south  to  where  they  now  are. 

The  sununit  of  the  plateau  was  only  1,460  feet  above  the  sea.  I. ere 
w'.'  regained  the  great  prairie  plains,  ami  here  we  saw  in  their  magnificent 


in 


altitudes  the  (jrand  buffalo  herds  on  their  chief  ram 


ley  wert;  niovii 


roiiiu 


southwesLvvardly,  apparently  toward  the  plains  of  the  upper  Missouri.  l"or 
three  days  we  were  in  their  midst,  travelling  through  them  by  day  and  snr- 
led  by  them  at  night  We  could  not  avoiil  them.  I'vidently  some  dis- 
turbing cause  had  ^vx  iht-au  in  motion  from  the  north.  It  was  necessary  to 
hobble  some  of  our  animals  and  picket  them  all,  and  keep  theiM  close  in  to 
prevent  .iny  of  them  from  making  off  with  the  biiflalo,  when    hej-  would 


fP9 


i 


ill 


i  ; 


I     I 


48 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  UFR—fOlfX  CHARLES  EREMOXT. 


have  been  irretrievably  lost.  Working  through  the  herds  it  was  decided,  in 
order  to  get  more  out  of  their  way,  to  make  a  temporary  halt  for  a  day  or 
two  on  the  Tampa,  a  small  stream  flowing  into  the  Shayen.  On  the  sec- 
ond day  after,  Uixon  and  P'reniere  came  in  with  three  Indians  from  a  partv 
which  had  been  reconnoitring  our  camp.  They  belonged  to  a  hunting 
village  of  some  three  hundred  lotlges,  who  were  out  making  buffalo-meat 
and  were  just  about  arranging  for  a  grand  "  surroiitidy  It  would  have 
been  dangerous  to  risk  breaking  in  upon  this,  as  might  easily  happen  in 
our  ignorance  of  the  locality  and  their  phms.  To  avert  mischief  I'Veniere, 
on  the  third  day,  rode  over  to  the  village  with  a  message  requesting  their 
chiefs  to  indicate  the  time  and  rout<;  for  our  march.  In  consequence  we 
were  invited  to  come  on  to  their  encampment.  Pushing  our  way  through 
the  crowds  of  buffalo,  we  were  met  in  the  afternoon  by  two  of  the  chiefs, 
who  escorted  us  to  the  village  and  pointed  out  the  place  for  our  camp. 
We  found  the  encampment  made  up  of  about  three  hundred  lodges  of 
various  tribes — Yanktons,  Yanktonons,  and  Sissitons — making  about  two 
thousand  Indians. 

The  representations  of  our  guides  had  innired  us  a  most  friendly  recep- 
tion. We  were  invited  to  eat  in  the  lodges  of  different  chiefs;  the  choicest, 
fattest  pieces  of  buffalo  provided  for  us,  and  in  return  they  were  invited  to 
eat  at  our  camp.  The  chi<>fs  sat  around  in  a  large  circle  on  buffalo  robes 
or  blankets,  each  provided  with  a  deep  soup  plate  and  spoon  of  tin.  The 
first  dish  was  a  generous  pot-au-fcu,  principally  of  fat  buffalo  meat  and 
rice.  No  one  would  begin  until  all  the  plates  were  filled.  When  all  was 
ready  the  feast  began.  With  the  first  mouthful  each  Indian  silently  1  id 
down  his  spoon,  and  each  looked  at  the  other,  .\fter  a  jjause  of  bewilder- 
inent  the  interpreter  succeeded  in  having  the  situation  understood.  Mr. 
Nicollet  had  put  among  our  provisions  somt'  Swiss  cheese,  and  to  give  flavor 
to  the  soup  a  liberal  [)t)rtion  of  this  had  been  put  into  the  kettles.  I'ntil 
this  strange  flavor  was  accounted  for  the  Indians  thought  they  were  being 
poisoned ;  but,  tb(!  cheese  being  shown  to  them,  ami  e.xplanation  made,  con- 
fidence was  restored  ;  and  by  the  aid  of  several  kettles  of  water  well  sweet- 
ened with  molasses,  and  such  other  temjjting  dc/icafcssrn  as  could  be  pro- 
duced from  our  stores,  the  dinner  party  went  on  and  terminated  in  great 
good  humor  and  general  satisfaction. 

The  next  day  they  made  their  surround.  This  was  their  great  summer 
hunt  when  a  provision  of  meat  was  made  for  the  year,  the  winter  hunting 
being  in  smaller  parties.  The  meat  of  many  fat  cows  was  brought  in,  and 
the  low  scaffolds  on  which  it  was  laid  to  be  sun-dried  were  scattered  over 
all  the  encampment.  No  such  occasion  as  this  was  to  be  fountl  for  the 
use  of  presents,  and  the  liberal  gifts  distributed  through  the  village  heigln- 
ened  their  enjoyment  of  the  feasting  and  ilancing,  which  was  prolonged 


1 


% 

m 


SECOND  EXPEDITION  UNDER  NICOLLET. 


49 


t 


in  qrreat 

.■\' 

summer 

huntiiv^ 

in,  and 

-'■ 

cd  Dvcr 

1 

tor  the 

li<'i<,dit- 
jlunged 

throurrh    the    night.       I'Viendly    relations    established,  we   continued    our 

journey- 
Having  laid  down  the  course  of  the  river  by  astronomical  stations,  dur- 
inrr  three  days'  travel ;  we  crossed  to  the  left  bank  and  directed  our  road 
toward  the  Devil's  Lake,  which  was  the  ultimate  object  of  the  expedition. 
The  Indian  name  of  the  lake  is  Mini-tcakaii,  the  Enchanted  Water  ;  con- 
verted by  the  whites  into  Devil's  Lake. 

Our  observations  placed  the  river  where  we  left  it  in  latitude  4;  46' 
29",  longitude  98'  13'  30'',  and  elevation  above  the  sea  1,328  feet;  the 
level  of  the  bordering  plateaus   being  about  one   hundred   and  sixty   feet 

above  the  river. 

In  our  journey  along  this  river,  mosquitoes  had  infested  the  camp  in 
such  sw.irms  and  such  pertinacity  that  the  animals  would  quit  feeding  and 
come  u[)  to  the  fires  to  shelter  themselves  in  the  smoke.  So  \irulcnt 
we'-c  they  that  to  eat  in  any  quiet  was  impossible,  and  we  found  it  neces- 
sarv  to  use  the  long  green  veils,  which  to  this  end  had  been  recommended 
to  us  b)-  the  fur  traders.  Tied  around  our  straw  hats  the  brims  kept  the 
veils  from  our  faces,  making  a  space  within  which  the  plates  could  be  held  ; 
and  behind  these  screens  we  contrived  to  eat  without  having  th  -  food  un- 
comfortably flavored  by  mosquito  savice  piquante. 

After  a  short  tla\''s  march  of  fourteen  miles  we  made  our  first  camp  on 
this  famous  war  and  hunting  ground,  four  miles  from  the  J\fi?ii-7vai['an. 
Karlv  in  the  dav's  march  we  had  caught  sight  of  the  woods  and  hills  bor- 
dering the  lake,  among  th(Mn  being  conspicuous  a  heart-shaped  hill  near 
tb.e  southern  shore.  The  next  da)'  after  an  hour's  march  we  pitched  our 
camp  at  the  head  of  a  deei)  bay  not  far  from  this  hill,  'lo  this  the  Indians 
have  given  the  name  of  the  ''  l/ca-.l  of  (he  Enchanted  \\\ite>\"  h\  the 
whites  trar- 'ated  "  Heart  of  the  I  )e\irs  Lake." 

At  a  wooded  lake  of  fresh  water  near  last  night's  camp  on  the  plateau 
we  had  found  traces  of  a  lar'-e  encamijment  whi(  h  had  been  reccntlv  aban- 
doned.  The  much-trodden  trround  and  trails  all  round  showed  that  a  larcre 
[lartyhad  been  here  for  several  weeks,  brom  many  cart-wheel  tracks  and 
other  sijj[ns  our  guides  recognized  it  as  a  hunting  cani[)  of  the  Mifis,  or 
/u'is'-BiKiis,  of  the  Red  River  of  tl.  •  North  ;  and  the  deep  ruts  cut  by  the 
wheels  showed  that  the  carts  had  reeeix  eil  their  full  load,  and  that  the 
great  hunt  of  the  year  was  over.  It  was  this  continuous  and  widespread 
hunt  that  had  put  in  motion  the  great  lu'rds  through  which  we  luui  passed. 

Among  other  interesting  features  of  the  nortlnvest  we  had  heard  much 
irom  our  guitles  about  tliest;  people  and  tluMr  buffalo  hunts ;  and  to  have 
just  missed  them  by  a  few  days  only  was  cpiite  a  (.iisappointment. 

The  home  of  the  Half-breeds  is  at  I'embina  in  llritish  North  America. 
They  are  called  indifferently  ilfetis  or  Half-breeds,  Uois-Ui  n/es,  and  Gens 


f 


..*#' 


'V 


M  ' 


5° 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JO HX  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


W    ! 


librcs  or  Free  People  of  the  North.  The  HaH'-brceds  themselves  aio  in 
greater  part  the  descendants  of  i'rench  Canadian  traders  and  others  who, 
in  the  service  of  the  Vwr  Company,  and  principally  of  the  Northwest  Com- 
pany of  Montreal,  had  been  stationed  at  their  remote  forts,  or  scattered 
over  the  northwest  Indian  country  in  fathering  furs.  These  usually  took 
local  wives  from  among  the  Indian  women  of  the  different  tribes,  and  their 
half  Indian  children  grew  up  to  a  natural  life  of  hunting  and  kindred  pur- 
suits, in  which  their  instincts  gave  them  unusual  skill. 

The  Canadian  ciigaf^cs  of  the  company  who  had  remained  in  the  country 
after  their  term  of  service  had  expired  were  called  Free  Canadians  ;  and, 
from  their  association  with  the  Maif-breeds  came  also  the  name  of  Gciis 
librcs.  They  were  prominently  concerned  in  a  singular  event  which  oc- 
curred in  British  America  about  a  quarter  of  a  century  before  the  time 
of  which  I  am  writing.  In  the  rivalry  between  the  Mudson's  Bay  Compan\- 
and  the  Northwest  I'ur  and  Trading  Company  of  Montreal,  the  I  lalf-breeds 
were  used  by  the  Northwest  Company  in  their  successful  attempts  to  de- 
stroy a  Scotch  colony  which  had  been  planted  by  the  Farl  of  Selkirk  on 
the  Red  River  of  the  North  at  its  conlluence  with  the  Assiniboine,  about 
forty  miles  above  Lake  W'innipeg.  The  colony  was  founded  upon  a  grant 
of  land  made  to  the  Earl  by  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  in  1811  ;  and 
about  a  hundred  immigrants  were  settled  at  the  Forks  in  181  2,  reaching  to 
some  two  hundred  in  1814.  This  was  called  the  Kildonan  settlement, 
from  a  parish  in  the  County  of  Sutherland  which  had  been  th'-  home  of  the 
immigrants.  In  August  of  181 5  it  was  entirely  broken  up  by  the  Northwest 
Company,  and  the  settlers  driven  awa\-  and  dispersed.  During  the  follow- 
ing winter  and  spring  the  colony  was  re-established,  and  in  prosperous 
condition  when  it  was  attacked  by  a  force  of  Half-breeds,  under  officers  of 
the  Northwest  Compaii)-,  ami  some  twenty  unresisting  persons  killed  ; 
including  Mr.  Semple,  the  Governor  of  the  Hudson's  Hay  Company  and 
five  of  his  officers.  In  the  course  ot  this  contest  there  were  acts  of  a 
savage  brutality,  not  repugnant,  perhaps,  to  the  usages  of  the  Indian  coun- 
try whcne  they  were  perpetrated,  but  unknown  among  civilized  men.  The 
opposition  made  to  the  colony  by  the  Northwest  Compan\-  was  for  the 
declared  reason  that  "  Colonization  was  unfavorable  to  the  I'"ur  Trade  :  " 
their  pt)licy  was  to  hold  the  great  part  of  a  continent  as  a  game  preserv  ; 
for  the  benefit  solely  of  tlunr  traih-. 

The  col(My  was  revived  when  the  Northwest  was  merged  in  tne 
Hudson's  Bay  Company,  and  reoccu[Med  its  old  site  at  the  T'orks  of  Red 
River  ;  the  settlements  (extending  gradually  southward  along  the  banks  of 
the  river.  The  grants  of  laiitl  which  had  beim  nuule  to  the  colonists  b) 
t'.H?  Ivarl  of  Selkirk  held  good  under  the  general  grant  made  to  him  by  flic 
i  ludson's  Ba)'  Company  in  iSi  1,  nnd  liave  been  so  maintained. 


Ill       ' 


SECO.yn  EXPEDITION  UNDER  NICOLLET. 


51 


Meantime  the  Half-breeds  had  been  increasing  in  number ;  and,  as  the 
buffalo  have  receded  before  the  settlements  in  Ikitish  America,  they  make 
their  hunting  expeditions  to  the  plains  around  the  Devil's  Lake.  With 
them,  the  two  important  events  of  the  year  are  the  buftalo  hunts  which 
they  come  to  these  plains  to  make.  They  bring  with  them  carts  built  to 
carry  each  the  meat  often  buffalo,  which  they  make  'w\\.o  poiuiiicait.  This 
consists  of  the  meat  dried  bj-  fire  or  sun,  coarsely  pounded  and  mixed  with 
melted  fat,  and  packed  into  skin  sacks.  It  is  of  two  qualities  ;  the  ordinary 
pemmican  of  commerce,  being  the  meat  without  selection,  and  the  fmer, 
in  small  sacks,  consisting  of  the  choicest  parts  kneaded  up  with  the  marrow. 
Buffalo  tongues,  pemmican,  and  robes,  constitute  chiefly  their  irade  and 
support. 

When  making  their  hunts  the  party  is  usually  divided  ;  one-half  to  hunt, 
the  other  to  guard  the  camp.  Years  ago  they  were  mucii  harassed  by  the 
Indians  of  the  various  tribes  who  frequented  these  buffalo  grounds  as  much 
to  light  as  to  hunt.  Hut  as  a  result  of  these  conflicts  with  the  Half-breeds 
the  Indians  were  always  obliged  to  go  into  mourning;  and  gradually  they 
had  learned  to  fight  shy  of  these  people  and  of  late  years  had  ceased  to 
molest  them.  They  are  good  shots  and  good  riders,  and  have  a  prairie- 
wide  reputation  for  skill  in  hunting  and  bravery  in  fighting. 

We  remained  on  the  Devil's  Lake  over  a  week,  during  which  three 
stations  were  made  along  the  southern  shore,  giving  for  the  most  northern 
latitude  47  59'  20",  and  for  longitude  98°  28'.  Our  barome^'er  gave 
for  the  top  of  the  "Enchanted  Hill"  1,766  feet  abo\e  the  sea,  for  the 
plateau  1,486  feet,  and  for  the  lake  1,476  feet.  It  is  a  beautiful  sheet  of 
water,  the  shores  being  broken  into  pleasing  irregularity  by  promontories 
ami  many  islands.  As  in  some  other  lakes  on  the  plateau,  the  water  is 
brackish,  but  there  are  fish  in  it;  and  it  is  doubtless  much  freshened  by 
the  rains  and  melting  snows  of  the  spring.  No  outlet  was  found,  but  at 
the  southern  end  there  are  low  grounds  by  wdiich  at  the  season  of  higl; 
waters  the  lake  may  discharge  into  the  Shayen  River.  This  would  [)ut  it 
among  the  sources  of  the  Red  River.  The  most  extended  view  of  its 
waters  obtainable  from  any  of  the  surrouiKling  hills  seemed  to  reach 
about  forty  miles  in  a  northwesterly  direction.  Accompanied  by  Dixon 
or  hreniere,  I  was  sent  ofl"  on  several  detached  excursions  to  make  out 
whai  I  could  of  the  sha|)e  anti  size  of  the  lake.  On  one  of  these  I  wi'Ut 
tor  a  day's  journey  along  the  western  shore,  but  was  unable  in  the  limited 
time  to  carry  my  work  to  the  northern  end.  Toward  nightfall  we  found 
near  the  slK>n'  good  water  and  made  there  our  camp  in  open  ground. 
Nodiing  disturbed  our  rest  for  several  hours,  when  we  were  roused  by  a 
confused  heavy  trampling  and  ilv-  usual  grunting  sounds  which  announced 
buflalo.     We  Kill  Ivxrely  time  to  get  our  animals  close  in  and  tn  throw  on 


"■'rfe 


i 

i;'; 

• 

! 

i  1 

1 

: 

I 


I  I 


5 J  MEMOIRS  OF  MY  IJEF.—JOII.Y  CHARLES;  FRfiMONT. 

dry  woiji!  and  stir  uj)  the  fire,  before  the  herd  was  upon  us.  They  were 
coming  to  the  lake  for  water,  and  the  near  ones  being  crowded  forward  by 
those  in  the  rear  and  disregarding  us,  they  were  nigh  going  directly  over 
us.  By  shouting  ami  firing  our  pieces,  we  succeeded  in  getting  them  to 
make  a  little  space,  in  which  they  kept  us  as  they  crowded  down  into  the 
lake.  The  brackish,  salty  water,  is  what  these  animals  like,  and  to  turn 
the  course  of  such  a  heril  from  water  at  night  would  be  impossible. 

Unwieldy  as  he  looks,  the  buffalo  bull  moves  with  a  suddenness 
and  alertness  that  make  him  at  close  quarters  a  dangerous  antagonist. 
Freniere  and  I  being  together  one  day,  we  discovered  a  bull  standing 
in  the  water  of  a  litLle  lake  near  the  shore,  and  we  rode  up  to  see  what 
he  v-is  doing  there  alone,  "lie  may  be  sick,"  said  Freniere.  As  we 
approached  we  noticeil  that  he  was  watching  us  inquiringly,  his  head 
high  up,  with  intention,  as  a  bull  in  an  arena.  As  we  got  abreast  of  him 
within  a  few  yards,  he  made  two  or  three  quick  steps  toward  us  and 
pcuised.  "  Oho!  bojijoiir  i'luuiyadd'  I'^renicre  called  out,  and  moved  his 
horse  a  little  away.  My  attention  for  a:i  instant  was  diverted  to  my  riata, 
which  was  trailing,  when  the  bull  made  a  dash  at  us.  I  made  an  effort 
to  got  out  of  his  range,  but  my  horse  appeared  to  think  diat  it  was  in 
the  order  of  proceeding  for  me  first  to  fire.  A  rough  graze  to  his  hind 
quarters  which  staggeretl  him  made  iiim  see  that  the  bull  had  decided 
to  take  this  particular  affair  into  his  o%vn  hands,  or  horns,  and  under  the 
forcible  impression  he  covered  a  rod  or  two  of  ground  with  surprising 
celerity ;  I'le  bull  meanwhile  continuing  his  course  across  the  prairie 
without  e-ven  turning  his  head  to  look  at  us.  Concluding  that  it  was  not 
desirable  to  follow  up  our  brief  acquaintance,  we  too  continued  our  wa\ . 
A  good  hunter  does  not  kill  merely  for  the  sake  of  killing. 

The  outward  line  of  the  expedition  being  closed,  our  route  was  now 
turned  eastward  across  the  plateau  toward  the  valley  of  the  Red  River 
of  the  North.  The  first  night  was  pas.sed  at  a  small  fresh-water  lake  near 
the  Lake  of  the  .Serpents,  which  is  sail  ;  and  on  .August  7th  ve  encamped 
again  on  the  Shayen-oju.  Continuing  east,  we  crossed  next  day  the 
height  oi  land  at  an  elevation  of  1,500  feet  above  sea  level,  and  a  few 
miles  farther  came  iw  view  of  the  wide-spread,  valley  of  the  Red  River,  its 
'>'reen  wooded  lino  extending  far  away  to  the  north  on  its  way  to  British 
America.  Frt>.in  this  poin<,  tra^-c'' in  southerly,  a  week  was  spent  in 
sketching  and  determining  positions  among  the  head-waters  of  its  tribu- 
taries ;  and  on  August  i.4.th  we  d<-sccnded  again  to  the  valley  of  the 
Shayen  and  r^TOSsed  that  river  at  an  elevation  of  1,228  feet  above  the 
sea,  its  coiiwr^nc  not  many  miles  l>clow  curving  northeast  to  the  Red  River. 
Tvo  da>fs  later  we  reaeheti  the  Lake  of  the  Four  Hills,  about  a  hundred 
fie*t  «4wiW«:  tiK'  river.      "^Iiis  lake  is  wv\.w  th^-  foot  of  the   ascent  to  the   A'< - 


SECOND  EXPEDITION  UNDER  NICOLLET. 


S3 


were 


as  now 
River 
-:<■  near 
cain[)cd 
.ly  the 
l1  a  few 
iver,  ils 
British 
ipent    ill 
.s  trihu- 
of  the 
ov('  the 
River, 
uindred 
the   A'.- 


ipalian,  or  Head  of  the  Cotcau  des  Prairies.  We  ascended  the  slope  to  the 
hii^diest  point  at  the  head  of  the  Coteau,  where  the  elevation  was  2,000  feet 
above  the  sea  and  the  width  of  the  Coteau  about  twenty  miles.  In  its 
extension  to  the  south  it  reaches,  m  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  a 
l)readth  of  forty  miles;  slopin.L,--  abruptly  on  the  west  to  the  great  plains 
(jf  the  Riz'iere  a  Jacques,  and  on  the  east  to  the  prairies  of  the  Mini- 
sotah  River.  Here  we  spent  several  days  in  the  basin  of  the  boauti- 
hil  lakes  which  make  the  head-waters  of  the  Mini-sotah  of  the  Missis- 
sippi River,  and  the  Tchankasndata  or  Sioux  River  of  the  Missouri.  The 
two  groups  of  lakes  are  near  together,  occupying  apparently  the  same 
basin,  with  a  slight  rise  between  ;  the  Mini-sotah  group  being  the  north- 
ern. They  lie  in  a  depression  or  basin,  from  i  50  to  300  feet  below  the 
rim  of  the  Coteau,  full  of  clear  living  water,  often  partially  wooded  ;  and, 
having  sometimes  a  santly  beach  or  shore  strewed  with  boulders,  they 
arc  singularly  charming  natural  features.  These  were  pleasant  camping- 
grounds  —wood  was  abundant,  the  water  was  good,  and  there  were  fish 
in  the  lakes. 

I'Vom  the  lake  region  we  descended  Soo  or  900  feet  to  the  lower 
jjrairies,  and  took  up  our  march  for  the  residence  of  our  friends  the 
Renvilles. 

Some  well  employed  time  was  devoted  here  to  make  examinations  of 
the  Big  .Stone  and  other  lakes,  and  to  making  observations  and  collecting 
materials  to  render  Mr.  Nicollet's  projected  map  of  this  region  as  nearly 
complete  as  practicable.  In  all  these  excursions  we  had  the  effective  aid 
of  the  Renvilles,  whose  familiar  knowledge  of  the  country  enabled  us  to 
economize  both  labor  and  time. 

The  autunm  was  far  advanced  when  we  took  our  leave  of  this 
post.  That  \(^ar  the  prairie  flowers  had  been  e.xceptional  in  hi.xuriance 
and  beauty.  The  rich  lowland.s  near  the  house  were  radiant  with  asters 
and  golden-rod,  ami  memory  chanced  to  associate  these  ilowers,  as  the 
last  thing  seen,  with  the  place.  Since  then  I  have  not  been  in  that  coun- 
try or  seen  the  Renvilles ;  but  still  I  never  see  the  golden-rod  and  purple 
asters  in  handsome  bloom,  without  thinking  of  that  hospitable  refuge  on 
the  far  northern  prairies. 

Some  additional  examinations  on  the  water-shed  of  the  Mini-sotah 
and  along  the  Mississippi  closed  the  labors  of  these  expeditions  ;  and  at 
nightfall  v-arly  in  November  I  landed  at  Prairie  dii  Cliicn  in  a  bark  canoe, 
with  a  detachment  of  our  p-.rty.  A  steamboat  at  the  landing  was  firing  up 
and  just  about  starting  for  St.  Louis,  but  we  thought  it  wouUl  be  pleasant  to 
rest  a  day  or  two  and  enjoy  comfortable  quarters  while  waiting  for  the  next 
boat.  But  the  n-^xt  boat  was  in  the  spring,  for  next  morning  it  was  snow- 
ing hard,  and  the  ri^  er  was  frozei:  from  bank  to  bank.      I  had  time  enough 


Ili      ! 


ll 


54  MEMOIRS  OF  MY  /.//■/■-/OJ/ X  CILIRLKS  l-REMOXT. 

while  there  to  learn  two  thin.L^s:  one,  how  to  skate;  the  other,  the  value 

of  a  clay. 

After  some  weeks  of  wagon  journey  through  Illinois,  in  a  severe  winter, 
we  reached  St.  Louis  ;  when,  after  the  party  had  been  cared  for,  I  went 
on  to  Washington  to  assist  Mr.  Nicollet  in  working  up  the  material  col- 
lected in  the  expeditions. 


^^ 


I 


1^     M 


i 


chapti<:r  hi. 

i,S4o   ji     At  work  ill  \Vr\sliiii!^ii)n — Coinpaiiioiisiiip  with   .Mr.  Nicollet  rind  Mr.  Ilnsslcr 
liilurcst   ul   Western   senators  in   uui-  work — .Mr.    I'oinscll — Survey  ol    the   Des 
Moines  River— Connected  by  inarriau^e  with   Senator   Benton — ()rcu;on  question — 
t'iiarles  I'renss     I'lanninu;  first  i.'.\[)editioii  to  the  i'iocky  Mountains. 


Till-:  official  report  of  our  return  to  Washington  was  duly  made.  I  ac- 
companied Mr.  Nicollet  in  his  visit  to  the  President  and  Mr.  Poinsett,  by 
whom  he  was  received  with  marked  cordiality  and  assured  of  their  great 
satisfaction  in  the  success  of  the  e.xpedition.  It  had  brought  back  valuable 
knowled'n;  concerning  a  region  of  great  agricultural  capacities,  little  known 
to  the  people  at  large,  ami  which  opened  to  them  a  new  field  to  occupy. 
Mr.  Poinsett  told  me  of  his  gratification  with  the  good  report  which  Mr. 
Nicollet  gave  him  concerning  myself;  and  liis  kind  reception  and  approval 
were  to  me  the  culminating  pleasure  of  a  cainpaign  which  had  been  full  of 
novel  interest. 

Some  pleasant  days  were  spent  in  welcomes  to  Mr.  Nicollet  by  his 
friends  in  Baltimore,  in  which  I  was  usually  included.  Among  the  agree- 
able ac([iiaintances  made  at  this  time  the  most  interesting  to  me  was  Bishop 
Chanche,  of  St.  Mary's  College.  Here,  as  in  St.  Louis,  Mr.  Nicolhjt's  re- 
lations with  the  upper  clergy  were  intimate  and  friendly  ;  and  with  him  1 
had  in  this  way  the  advantage  of  seeing  in  intimacy  men  of  secluded  antl 
dignified  lives  and  large  impersonal  aims.  They  received  him  as  the  ab- 
bots of  old  welcomed  a  congenial  traveller  into  their  calm  retreats  when 
monasteries  were  seats  of  learning.  The  security  and  peace  and  orderly 
comfort  made  for  them  a  grateful  refreshment  and  relief 

;\t  the  college,  Mr.  Nicollet  had  his  quarters,  which  were  always  kept 
ready  for  him.  He  used  to  take  pleasure  in  showing  me  in  his  wardrob(;s 
the  wealth  of  linen  and  other  luxuries  of  his  former  civilized  life ;  which  W(?re 
all  in  amusing  contrast  with  that  wdiich  we  had  lately  been  leading,  where 
the  chief  liLKin-y  we  could  command  was  a  clean  skin.  It  is  an  uncommon 
pleasure  in  a  man's  life  to  have  such  an  interior  welcome  and  so  real  a 
home  in  many  places  as  Mr.  Nicollet  had.  The  sight  of  these  things  usu- 
ally recalled  to  him  other  scenes  and  events,   and  led  him  in   confidential 


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MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


if 


intercourse  to  tell  them  over  to  me  as  they  came  up  in  his  mind,  and  so 
carried  my  knowledge  of  him  back  into  his  former  life. 

The  loss  of  friends  marks  our  path  through  life  with  crosses  which  tell 
us  of  griefs,  as  in  unfrequented  countries  a  wayside  cross  or  heap  of  stones 
marks  the  spot  where  some  traveller  had  suddenly  come  face  to  face  with 
death  on  his  road.  Involuntarily  one  looks  around  as  if  the  hidden  danger 
still  lurked  there.  The  cross  gives  a  warning  impress,  and  imagination 
lends  its  aid  to  recall  the  tragedy  which  had  left  its  shadow  on  the  ground. 
I  had  returned  to  Washington  in  a  condition  of  happy  thoughtlessness, 
relieved  from  work,  and  my  mind  not  burdened  with  a  care.  The  cam- 
paign was  over  and  its  objects  accomplished.  What  now  remained  to  be 
done  was  merely  the  giving  a  definite  shape  to  its  results,  so  interesting 
that  it  could  not  be  called  labor,  but  pleasure  only.  And  so  I  was  already 
enjoying  the  fruitful  repose,  in  expectation. 

But  now  there  came  to  me  the  news  that  our  little  circle  had  been  bro- 
ken by  the  loss  of  my  only  brother,  who  had  returned  to  die  at  home. 
So  soon  as  the  requirement  of  immediate  duty  permitted  I  obtained  leave. 
The  short  time  which  had  been  gi\en  me  I  spent  with  my  mother.  The 
years  had  been  made  lonely  by  the  absence  of  both,  and  now  still  more  by 
the  loss  of  one  of  us,  and  I  was  happy  for  her  sake  in  the  unusual  bright- 
ness my  presence  brought  with  it ;  and  for  a  while  it  was  almost  the  old 
time  again. 

But  the  brief  leave  was  soon  over,  and  I  returned  to  Washington. 
.'\mong  Mr.  Nicollet's  scientific  affiliations,  one  of  the  most  intimate  and 
the  most  interesting,  because  of  the  opposite  characters  of  the  two  men, 
was  that  with  Mr.  Hassler,  the  chief  of  the  United  States  Coast  Survey. 
Both  were  indurated  in  science,  and  so  far  congenial,  but  both  entirely  op- 
posite in  complexion  of  mind  and  in  manner;  the  one  flint,  and  the  other 
steel,  fire  flashing  out  in  every  argument.  Mr.  Nicollet  was  urbane,  for- 
bearing, rounding  off  obstructions  in  intercourse  ;  polished  and  persua- 
sive, and  careful  of  the  feelings  of  others.  Mr.  Hassler  was  abrupt,  full  of 
sharp  edges  and  intolerant  of  pretentious  mediocrity.  Going  directly  to  the 
heart  of  his  subject  and  in  language  the  most  direct,  he  was  almost  a  dis- 
tinct species,  where  the  exterior  photographed  the  inner  man.  What  he 
did,  or  the  manner  in  which  he  did  it,  was  absolutely  without  reference  to 
outside  opinion  or  outside  effect.  What  he  intended  to  do  he  did  in  what 
seemed  to  him  the  best  way,  and  that  was  all.  His  life  had  been  the  pur- 
suit of  science,  and  his  occupation  now  was  its  application  ;  and  for  this  he 
was  exceptionally  qualified,  and  any  interference  with  his  work  he  resented 
with  indignant  promptitude. 

To  a  member  of  a  committee  who  complained  to  him  of  a  delay  in  his 
report  to  Congress,  with  the  remark  that  when  he  had  a  report  to  write  he 


and  so 


liich  tell 
f  stones 
ice  with 
,  danger 
gination 
ground. 
e:.sness, 
le  cam- 
id  to  be 
eresting 
already 

ten  bro- 
,t  home, 
d  leave, 
r.  The 
more  by 
bright- 
the  old 

hington. 
late  and 
wo  men, 
Survey, 
irely  op- 
le  other 
ane,  for- 

persua- 
t,  full  of 
:ly  to  the 
St  a  dis- 
^Vhat  he 
rence  to 

in  what 
the  pur- 
ir  this  he 
resented 


ly  in   his 
write  he 


'■9  ^  -""•'Tr^'^ 


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I      V 


1 


H!   i 


■ 


sr.coivn  kx/'k/)J770.\  um)i:r  xicorLF/r. 


57 


m 


(lid  it  in  a  day,  Mr.  Hassler  replied  :  "That  is  time  enough  fot-  such  reports, 
lull  before  you  could  write  one  of  mine,  your  days  would  be  numbered."  He 
would  not  allow  the  prefix  of"  Honorable,"  merely  because  of  usage.  A  cabi- 
net officer  who  had  offended  him  he  addressed  :  "  Mr. ,  the  Honorable 

Secretary,  etc."     The  place  was  honorable,  he  conceded    -not  the  man. 

All  Washington  of  that  date  remembers  the  figure  dressed  in  white  flan- 
nel, which  habitually  was  driven  through  the  streets  in  a  large  foreign-built 
carriage,  commonly  called  "the  ark."  In  this  he  was  used  to  go  to  the 
field  of  his  operations  along  the  coast,  where  his  surveying  parties  were 
occupied.  The  aric  was  so  arranged  that  in  it  on  these  occasions  were  al- 
ways packed  some  of  the  essentials  for  clean  and  comfortable  sleeping  and 
toilet  needs  ;  together  with  red  and  white  German  wines,  and  some  such 
[provision  as  was  good  for  the  health  of  a  man  who  knew  that  gootl  food 
was  essential  to  good  brain- work.  He  was  both  abstemious  and  fastitlious. 
When  he  accepted  an  invitation  to  dinner,  which  was  seldom,  his  habit  was 
10  carry  with  him  some  bottles  of  these  German  wines,  as  he  would  drink 
of  no  other  kind,  and  only  of  his  own.  But  his  abruptness  never  degen- 
i^rated  into  connnon  rudeness.  Tlie  thin,  intellectual  face,  and  tall,  slight 
figure  contradicted  any  idea  of  that  kind.  It  was  always  intellect  speak - 
ini^,  not  passion  ;  and  withal  there  was  a  kindly  disposition. 

Mr.  Nicollet's  work  was  to  be  done  in  Washington,  which  was  also  Mr. 
I  lassler's  headcjuarters.  These  two  men  were  naturally  happy  of  the  oc- 
casion that  enabled  them  to  come  together,  and  it  was  decided  that  we 
three  should  make  our  bachelor  (Quarters  at  Mr.  Hassler's  own  house  on 
Capitol  Hill.  In  this  arrangement  there  was  some  disparity  of  purse  as 
well  as  of  age.  It  was  interesting  to  see  the  manner  in  which  these  two 
proceeded  to  organize  the  establishment.  Of  one  thing  they  were  aware, 
as  many  otherwise  good  housekeepers  in  our  country  are  not,  that  the  es- 
sential element  in  a  household  for  economy  and  health  is  the  cook.  In  this, 
accident  favored  us.  A  chef  recently  arrived  from  France  had  just  been 
rejected  by  President  Van  liuren,  on  account  of  the  high  salary  which  he 
considered  proportioned  to  his  skill.  Somehow  he  found  his  way  to  us. 
An  e.Kamination,  non-competitive,  resulted  in  showing  him  regularly 
trained  to  his  occupation.  He  was  a  man  of  middle  age,  of  imposing  pres- 
ence, and  opened  the  interview  by  the  production  of  a  long  sheet  of  paper 
with  this  heading  :  "  Pour  iin  cuisivicr  l-'raiifais  il /ant  uin:  hatlcrie  dc 
cuisine"  and,  following  this,  an  enumeration  incomprehensible  even  to  Mr. 
Nicollet.  This  was  the  beginning  and  end  of  his  e.xaminalion,  and  made 
liiin  master  of  the  situation.  A  man  who  knew  so  much  about  his  tools 
was  likely  to  know  how  to  use  them,  and  he  did.  I'or  Mr.  Nicollet  deli- 
cate food  had  become  a  necessity.  His  health  had  been  impaired  by  the 
discomforts  and  exposures  in  his  expeditions,  seriously  so  in  that  to  the 


f 


S8 


MEMOIRS  or  MY  LIFE    JO HX  CHARLES  FRliMONT. 


V  ;i 


I'- 


sources  of  tiic  Mississippi.  Durinj,'-  tiiis  he  liad  been  long  and  dangerously 
ill  when  off  alone  with  only  his  guide,  and  now  it  pleased  him  to  have  this 
opportunity  to  nurse  his  injured  health.  The  first  dinner  was  a  fete  to  me, 
to  whom  for  two  years  the  batterie  de  cuisine  had  been  a  chaudiere,  the 
camp-kettle  of  the  Canadian  voyageur. 

It  was  a  summer  evening,  and,  going  to  the  front  of  the  house,  we  found 
our  new  chef,  in  white  cap  and  apron,  quietly  installed  on  the  porch  en- 
joying the  evening  air.  Mr.  Nicollet  was  taken  aback  by  the  une.xpecteu 
vision,  and  in  his  quiet  way  suggested  to  him,  "  Mon  gargon,  c'esi  pas 
cominc  ilfaiit,  rcfi."  The  man  on  his  part  was  equally  surprised,  for  he 
said  that  he  had  undirstood  that  in  this  country  all  were  on  terms  of 
equality.  But  he  was  sensible,  and  took  it,  as  it  was  meant,  in  good  part, 
and  our  inoias^e  worked  on  smoothly,  to  Mr.  Nicollet's  great  benefit. 

Our  work  was  to  be  doiie  in  the  Coast  Survey  building  on  the  hill. 
Here  Mr.  Hassler  had  appropriated  to  us  several  rooms ;  some  of  which 
were  for  the  work,  and  others  for  our  more  private  use.  I  had  here  with 
me  a  congenial  companion  of  my  own  age,  and  of  the  same  corps,  Lieuten- 
ant Scammon,  who  had  been  assigned  to  duty  with  Mr.  Nicollet  in  work- 
ing up  astronomical  observations  and  the  construction  of  the  map.  Both 
of  us  had  unusual  facility  in  figures.  Like  myself,  he  was  a  lover  of  chess, 
and  this  engrossed  much  of  our  leisure  time.  In  fact,  the  time  was  divided 
between  work  and  chess.  He  was  also  a  man  of  varied  and  large  reading 
for  one  so  young,  and  had  the  gift  of  a  pleasant  and  companionable  tem- 
per ;    this  rounded  the  circle  of  my  daily  associates. 

The  house  on  the  hill  overlooked  the  Potomac,  and  the  breeze  from 
the  valley  swept  away  the  summer  heat.  Mr.  Nicollet  profited  by  the 
situation  and  the  command  of  fine  instruments  to  put  up  an  observatory 
here,  where  he  and  I  spent  many  interesting  nights  in  observations.  The 
night-watches  were  sometimes  long,  after  the  day  spent  among  figures 
which  required  care,  but  there  is  something  in  the  tran([uil  movements  of 
the  great  boilies,  endless  through  space,  which  impresses  patience  on 
those  watching.  Mr.  Nicollet's  mind  was  fruitful  of  interesting  things,  so 
that  the  hours  never  dulled  into  sleep.  I  remember,  one  night,  lying  by 
my  lantern  when  we  were  engaged  in  some  outside  work,  a  beetle  lit  on 
t\\v  open  book  in  which  I  was  recording  observations  made  by  him  from 
time  to  time.  I  was  glad  to  have  something  to  do,  and  before  the  insect 
flew  off  I  maile  a  sketch  of  him  which  happened  to  be  life-like.  Coming 
to  the  lantern  to  rcail  off  his  instrument,  Mr.  Nicollet  struck  at  the  drawing 
to  brush  away  the  beetle.  He  was  vexed  by  the  hearty  laugh  which  ex- 
pressed my  pleasure  at  his  testimony  to  the  accuracy  of  my  drawing,  and 
reproached  me  for  the  frivolity,  which  was  really  lightheartedness  that 
goes  soon  enough. 


II 


AT  WORK    IX  WASINMrrOX.  y, 

To  him  an  astronomical  observation  was  a  soiemnit)-,  and  required  such 
decorous  preparation  as  an  Indian  make  when  he  goes  where  he  thinks 
there  are  supernatural  beings.  "C'cs/  /orjou/s  coDintc  at  cliez  vous,"  he  said. 
"  Instead  of  occupying  your  mind  with  these  grand  objects,  you  give  your 
attention  to  insect  things."  "But,"  I  reply,  "that  is  because  my  mind  is 
not  large  enough  to  get  lliose  enormous  bodies  into  it.  I  try,  but  I  get  lost 
in  the  size  of  them  ;  my  mint!  has  not  yet  got  to  comprehend  them.  I  can 
reai  h  a  certain  distance  or  a  certain  size,  and  then  my  mind  stops  and  falls 
hack  upon  itself.  I  get  iiaffled  in  the  mental  effort  to  imagine  a  hug^■ness 
which  the  sight  is  always  contradicting.  With  you  it  is  \ery  different.  Vou 
have  been  studying  these  things  so  long  and  )^o  deeply  that  your  mintl  has 
become  broadened  and  takes  them  in  comfortably.  You  have  gotten  to 
comprehend  this  infinity  I  not  yet.  Perhaps  if  I  remain  long  enough 
with  you  I  shall."  And  with  the  implied  compliment  his  irritation  was 
soothed,  and  our  talk  turned  iulu  strange  and  kindred,  and  always  inter- 
esting, speculations  on  discoveries  yet  to  come. 

And  in  this  way,  or  something  like  it,  our  nights  were  often  passed. 

Mr.  Benton  was  a  disciple  of  Jefferson.  He  was  familiar  with  all  that 
had  been  said  and  done  by  him  concerning  the  region  on  the  North  Pacific, 
and  the  subject  had  been  dwelt  upon,  made  personal  to  him  by  the  e.x- 
plorer,  General  Clarke.  With  a  mind  full  of  the  subject,  he  wished  lo 
confer  with  Mr.  Jefferson,  and  made  a  visit  to  him  at  his  home  in  the  win- 
ter of  1825.  The  ideas  in  reference  to  overland  communication  which  had 
grown  up  in  the  mind  of  Mr.  Jefterson  were  based  upon  the  acquisition  of 
the  Louisiana  territory.  He  talked  these  over  with  Mr.  Benton,  and  they 
became  his  in  the  way  that  he  assimilated  information  which  he  recognized 
to  be  good.  To  such  a  mind,  of  which  the  chief  bias  was  to  utilize  mate- 
rial, this  vast  unused  region  had  already  [)resented  itself  as  an  object  of 
immediate  and  accumulating  interest.  In  area  it  was  an  empire  ;  shut  ^Ai 
from  the  new,  it  opened  to  the  ancient  east  by  one  great  harbor,  at  whicli 
all  the  avenues  to  interior  communication  concentrated.  And  this  empire, 
ours  of  right,  was  in  the  hands  of  an  old  enemy  whose  firm  grasp  was  un- 
relenting. 

From  the  moment  he  realized  the  situation,  he  had  resolved  to  wrest 
back  this  region  and  hold  it  where  it  belonged,  in  the  American  empire. 

In  his  position  of  Senator  he  had  now  a  stanilpoint  from  which  to  work, 
and  thenceforward  he  devoted  his  energies  to  carrying  through  the  plans 
which  these  two  statesmen  had  the  forecast  to  initiate.  Taking  part  as  he 
tlid  in  all  the  great  questions  that  came  before  Congress,  the  rigorous 
maintenance  of  our  title  to  the  Columbia  was  with  him  continuously  the 
i^reater  question,  because  the  interests  of  his  State  demanded  it ;  in  this  as 


'I 


i'i   f 

ill 


;.  ! 


li 


i 


60 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  I.I rR-JOHiV  CHARLES  EREMOXT. 


in  all  the  important  par)Sages  of  his  life  he  certainly  earned  recognition  as 
exceptionally  the  man  "tenacious  of  purpose." 

The  occupation  of  the  Lower  Columbia  by  an  American  emigration,  and 
the  enforcing  of  our  title  to  its  whole  valley  and  the  Pacific  coast  north  to 
the  49th  parallel,  had  already  become  the  aim  of  his  persistent  effort  before 
he  entered  political  life. 

In  1820,  the  first  proposition  made  in  Congress  for  the  occupation  of 
the  Columbia  was  introduce<l  through  Mr.  Floyd,  who  was  a  member  of 
tile  House,  from  Virginia.  Mr.  I'loyd  was  a  near  relation  of  Mrs.  Benton. 
The  old  "  Indian  Queen,"  on  what  was  cailed  by  way  of  distinction  "the 
Avenue,"  was  a  headquarters  for  western  and  southwestern  men.  Mr. 
Floyd  and  Mr.  Renton  were  staying  there  ;  and  with  them  were  Mr.  Ram- 
say Crooks  and  Mr.  Russell  Farnham,  both  concerned  in  the  American 
Fur  Company,  and  at  that  time  representing  its  interests  at  Washington. 

Mr.  Farnham  had  recently  returned  from  a  visit  to  the  Lower  Columbia. 
Mr.  Benton  the  year  before  had  written  and  published,  in  St.  Louis,  a  se- 
ries of  essays  in  relation  to  the  treaty  of  1S18,  directed  to  show  that  the 
joint  occupation  must  result  in  possession  by  England  if  our  own  occupa- 
tion of  the  river-valley  were  longer  delayed.  These  essays  had  been  read 
by  Mr.  Floyd,  and  were  fully  agreed  in  by  him.  Mr.  Benton  had  not  yet 
been  admitted  to  his  seat  in  the  Senate  because  of  the  long  debate  on  the 
Missouri  Compiomise,  which  virtually  settled  the  question  of  slavery  (ex- 
tension. 

After  reviewing  and  consulting  together  over  the  Oregon  situation. 
Mr.  Floyd  took  up  the  subject  and  moved  for  a  committee  to  consider  and 
report  upon  it.  A  select  committee  of  three  was  granted  by  the  House, 
which  within  six  days  reported  a  bill  "  to  authorize  the  occupation  of  the 
Columbia  River,  and  to  regulate  trade  and  intercourse  with  the  Indian 
tribes  thereon." 

"  The  bill  was  treated  with  parliamentary  courtesy,  which  respect  for 
the  committee  required  ;  it  was  read  twice  and  committed  to  a  Commilt'e 
of  the  Whole  House  for  "he  next  day — most  of  the  members  not  considei  - 
ing  it  a  serious  proceeding." 

This  act  revjuired  courage,  for  at  that  time  the  measure  met  onlv  ridi- 
cule or  indifference. 

"  In  1821,  when  the  occupation  of  the  Columbia  was  first  presented  to 
the  consideration  of  Congress,  the  British  minister  at  Washington,  Mr. 
Canning,  twice  called  upon  the  Secretary  of  State,  Mr.  Adams,  with  a 
view  to  arrest  the  progress  of  that  measure.  He  went  so  far  as  to  say 
that  such  occupation  would  conflict  with  his  majesty's  claims  in  that 
quarter." 

"  Contemporaneously  with  this  interference  and  threat  was  the  appear- 


4 

I 


r- 


esented  to 


A  7'  IVOJiK  fjV  UASn/Xc;  JOJV.  6) 

ance  of  numerous  essays  in  the  National  Intclligcncei .  evicUently  from  the 
ijcns  of  persons  in  the  employment  of  England  and  Russia,  attacking  and 
ridiculing  all  the  claims  of  the  United  States  to  the  northwest  coast  i)f 
America.  These  derive  importance  from  the  fact  of  the  repetition  of  their 
ooiUerts  in  the  halls  of  Congress.  These  essays  have  become  a  maga- 
zine from  which  gentlemen  borrow  arms  for  attacking  the  interests  of 
their  own  country." 

Nothing  further  was  done  in  the  House  that  session.  But  Mr.  Henton 
was  admitted  to  his  seat  soon  afterward,  and  gave  to  the  measure  imme- 
diate attention  and  advocacy.  In  1^25.  shortly  after  a  visit  to  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son, Mr.  Benton  brought  into  the  .Senate  a  bill  to  authorize  the  President, 
Mr.  Monroe,  to  use  a  detachment  of  the  army  and  navy  to  act  efficiently 
in  protecting  .American  interests  in  Oregon. 

"  Besides  the  preservation  of  our  own  territory  on  the  Pacific,  the  es- 
tablishment of  a  port  there  for  the  shelter  of  our  commercial  and  military 
marine,  the  protection  of  the  fur  trade,  and  aid  to  the  whaling-vessels, 
and  the  accomplishment  of  Mr.  Jefferson's  idea  of  a  commercial  communi- 
cation with  Asia  through  the  heart  of  our  own  continent "  were  constantly 
insisted  upon  by  him  as  a  consequence  of  planting  an  .\merican  colon)  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Columbia. 

Mr.  Dickerson,  Senator  from  New  Jersey,  was  among  the  strongest  op- 
ponents of  this  measure  -using  the  arguments  that  it  would  be  "  highly 
improper"  to  "  exercise  any  act  of  possession  or  occupation  "  until  1S28, 
to  which  time  the  treaty  of  1S18  for  joint  occupation  had  been  prolonged ; 
that  the  distance  was  against  it,  the  generally  forbidding  and  undesirable 
nature  of  the  whole  country  which,  "  from  the  meridian  of  Council  Bluffs 
extending  to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  can  never  be  cultivated,  and  of  course 
never  admit  of  a  civilized  population." 

"  The  Rocky  Mountains  and  inhospitable  regions  adjoining  them  will 
never  admit  of  a  white  population."     .  .     The  territory  lying  between 

the  Rocky  Mountains  and  the  western  ocean  he  admits  "  may  be  suscepti- 
ble of  a  white  population,"  "  but  its  best  destiny  is  to  make  of  it  our  Indian 
territory."  "As  to  the  Oregon  territory,  it  can  never  be  of  any  pecuniary 
advantage  to  the  United  States,  but  it  may  be  the  means  of  promoting  the 
cause  of  humanity  ;  and  this  is  the  best  possible  disposition,  while  the 
w  orst  would  be  the  adoption  of  the  provisions  of  the  present  bill. 
But  is  this  territory  of  Oreg  )n  ever  to  become  a  State,  a  member  of  this 
Union?  Never.  .  .  .  Oregon  can  never  be  one  of  the  United  States. 
If  we  extend  our  laws  to  it  we  must  consider  it  a  colony." 

"  The  period  never  will  arrive  when  it  will  be  proper  to  adopt  the  meas- 
ures proposed  by  the  friends  of  the  present  bill  ;  but  if  ever,  this  is  not  the 
time,  because  their  adoption  now  would   interfere  with  existing  relations 


■1 


I 


I  l|: 


I       I 


6a 


MEMOIl^S  or  MV  /.J /■'/■:- JO/f.y  ClfARI.ES  IRkMONT. 


b'.'twet^n  the  liritish  ( jovernimjnt  and  ours."  "  What  is  the  iminediate 
pressure  for  such  a  force  (^a  detachment  of  army  and  navy)  at  this  time  ? 
To  protect  our  ships  enj^agetl  in  the  whahnir  and  fishing  and  in  the  fur 
ti.idc,  and  takin!^^  of  sea-otters.  .  .  .  All  the  sea-otters  we  shall  ever 
take  upon  the  coast  of  the  Oregon  territory  would  not  pay  the  expense 
o!  inarching  a  single  company  across  the  Ru.  ky  Mountains." 

Mr.  Benton,  who  spoke  from  knowledge  of  the  subject,  maintained  his 
position  by  fads  ;  but  the  feeling  was  against  disturbing  England,  and 
against  protecting  our  settlers  and  emigrants.  Out  of  42  Senators  voting, 
13  voted  with  Mr.  Benton  and  28  against.  The  friends  of  Oregon  were: 
Me;;srs.  Barbour,  of  Virginia  ;  Benlon,  of  Missouri  ;  Bouligny,  of  Louisi- 
ana ;  Cobb,  of  Georgia  ;  I  layne,  of  South  Carolina  ;  General  Jackson,  of 
Tennessee;  Richard  Johnson,  of  Kentucky;  Johnston,  of  Louisiana  (broth- 
er of  Albert  Sidney  Johnston)  ;  Lloyd,  of  Massachusetts;  Mills,  of  Mas- 
sachusetts ;  Noble,  of  Indiana;  Ruggles,  of  Ohio;  Talbot,  of  Kentucky. 
Amon^'  those  voting  against  was  Mr.  Van  Buren. 

In  1.S2S,  wlien  tlie  convention  for  renewal  of  the  Oregon  joint  occupa- 
tion \\as  sent  in  to  the  .Senate,  Mr.  Benton  again  made  determined  opposi- 
tion to  prolonging  the  Lnglish  occupation,  but  he  was  only  one  of  seven 
Senators  who  opposed  its  ratification. 

"  Eighteen  years  afterwartl,  ami  when  we  had  got  to  the  cry  of  '  inevi- 
i.iblc  war  '  I  had  the  gratification  to  see  the  whole  Senate,  all  Congress, 
and  all  ii.e  United  States,  occupy  tlu;  same  ground  in  relation  to  this  joint 
occupation  on  which  only  seven  Senators  stood  at  the  time  the  convention 
for  it  was  ratified." 

Of  such  kind  had  been  the  objections,  but  such  the  power  of  the  oppo- 
sition, in  the  face  of  whirh  the  friends  of  Oregon  maintained  and  carried 
their  measures  for  its  rescue. 

It  will  be  observed  through  the  progress  of  the  Senate  debates  that 
Mr.  Renton  steadily  maintained  the  49th  parallel  as  our  northern  boundary 
to  the  Pacific,  neither  receding  from  it  nor  going  beyond  it ;  that  his  aim 
was  to  assert  our  title  by  American  occupation,  in  order  to  counteract  the 
English  occupation  which  was  in  daily  progress  ;  that  in  this  he  was  op- 
pose 1  by  the  feeble  interest  of  its  friends  and  by  the  weight  of  administra- 
tions which  yielded  the  delay  that  England  wanted,  and  which  refused  to 
aid  or  encourage  an  American  emigration  ;  that  Senator  Benton  pursued 
this  course  before  he  entered  the  Senate,  and  after,  until  the  treaty  of  1846, 
which  placed  our  boundary  on  that  49th  degree,  and  established  the  fact 
that  I'Lngland  had  no  title  to  the  Columbia  Valley  south  of  that  line. 

1  was  with  Mr.  Nicollet  in  his  official  visit  of  duty  to  the  Missouri 
.Senators,  Mr.  Renton  and  Mr.  Linn.  He  knew  of  the  comprehending  in- 
terest which  both,  especially  Mr.  Renton,  had  in  the  results  of  the  expe- 


AT  WORK  /N  WASHINGTON. 


63 


il 


(litioii  as  bcinpf  directly  in  liie  line  of  western  projrress.  Through  the 
Choiiteaus  and  other  leading-  men  in  St.  Louis,  with  whom  he  was  on  in- 
timate terins,  Mr.  Nicollet  knew  of  Mr.  Benton's  unwearied  interest  in 
furtheriny^  knowledge  of  our  western  possessions  and  I^ringing  th<in  into 
occupation. 

The  esseitial  importance  to  the  country  of  the  great  band  of  unoccu- 
pied territory  which  lay  between  the  Mississippi  and  the  Pacific  coast  iiad 
l)cen  one  of  the  chief  subjects  which  western  members  were  endeavoring 
to  force  upon  the  early  action  of  Congress.  The  farming  value  of  the 
country  over  which  the  surveys  of  Mr.  Nicollet  extended  impressed  them 
still  more  strongly  with  the  importance  of  the  trans-Missouri  region,  and 
gave  fresh  impulse  to  their  efforts.  Oregon  was  now  coming  to  the  fore- 
front among  political  questions  which  were  tending  to  embitter  party  poli- 
tics, ikit  the  presidential  elections  were  absorbing  atlcntiun,  and  for  a 
period  suspended  effort  on  other  questions. 

The  Democratic  party,  which  had  been  so  strong  and  masterful  under 
Jackson,  was  nearing  the  entl  of  its  pow(  rful  reign.  As  foteigners  and 
men  of  science,  Mr.  Hassler  and  Mr.  Nicollet  had  but  little  interest  in 
passing  political  affairs.  To  them  the  recurring  party  struggles  were  in 
the  established  order  of  things.  They  looked  upon  their  own  work  as  be- 
longing with  the  material  development  of  the  country,  disconnected  from 
the  political  changes  which  to  them  meant  only  a  change  in  the  personnel 
of  the  Government.  National  questions  which  affected  the  whole  country 
they  looked  at  in  their  large  aspect,  and  followed  with  the  close  attention 
of  thinking  and  far-sighted  men.  As  for  myself,  neither  then  nor  after- 
ward had  I  any  interest  in  merely  party  contests,  but  naturally  I  was 
dcepty  interested  in  their  frequent  discussion  of  questions  which  grew  out 
of  the  progress  of  the  country.  These  gave  shape  and  solidity  to  my 
own  crude  ideas.  The  one  question  to  which  I  had  given  any  serious 
thought  was  outside  of  politics  and  above  party. 

Mr.  Poinsett  had  lived  much  abroad.  His  education  had  been  finished 
ill  England,  and  he  had  travelled  in  Asia  as  well  as  in  Europe.  He  had 
been  our  minister  to  revolutionary  Mexico,  and  to  the  new  South  American 
republics. 

In  the  midst  of  these  surroundings  he  was  able  to  compare  their  politi- 
cal elements  with  the  new  growth  of  government  which  promised  a  grand 
future  to  his  own  country  ;  but,  looking  at  it  from  a  distance  so  great  that 
only  the  salient  points  were  visible,  he  saw  the  dark  spot  on  the  sun  which 
was  ominous  of  evil,  and  under  the  impressions  then  made  he  formed  the 
opinions  which  determined  and  guided  his  political  course. 

I  was  one  of  his  devoted  adherents.  My  education  and  condition  of 
life  had  left  me  disinterested  and  unprejudiced  as  to  the  question  which 


jyir 


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A//:.uo/A\s  or  my  i.ii-i:—joii.w  cifAiinis  fkemoxt. 


was  the  root  of  discord,  and  I  had  never  t^iven  thought  to  its  material  side. 
My  opinions  on  this  subject  grew  out  of  niy  education,  which  had  incul- 
cated intolerance  of  oppressicni  in  every  form  antl  that  love  of  the  conii'Mtr. 
country  which  in  America  was  part  of  a  boy's  growth.  In  this  condition 
of  mind  when  General  Jackson's  course  drew  die  line  in  South  Carolina, 
I  had  joined  the  party  of  Mr.  Poinsett  and  gave  unwavering  allegiance  to 
the  Union. 

I  was  now  settled  down  to  regular  work.  There  was  always  in  this  the 
interest  of  a  problem  to  be  worked  out.  There  is  pleasure  in  labor  which 
is  sure  of  a  result,  and  this  was  as  sure  as  the  stars  which  had  their  part 
in  it. 

I  have  said  that  our  settlement  was  near  the  Capitol,  and  some  of  the 
leading  subjects  of  discussion  there  had  special  interest  for  us  as  beint; 
kindred  to  our  own  occupation  and  looking  to  its  ct)ntinuation. 

Members  of  both  Houses  occasionally  came  to  see  the  progress  of  Mr. 
Hassler's  coast  surveys,  and  usually  e.xtended  their  visit  to  our  rooms.  Wr 
were  not  yet  at  work  on  the  map.  There  was  a  mass  of  astronomical  am! 
other  observations  to  be  calculated  and  discussed  before  a  beginning  on 
tliis  could  be  made.  Indeed,  the  making  of  such  a  n>ap  is  an  interestincf 
process.  It  must  be  exact.  First,  the  foundations  must  be  laid  in  obse  r- 
vations  made  in  the  field  ;  then  the  reduction  of  these  observations  to  lat- 
itude and  longitude  ;  afterward  the  projection  of  the  map,  and  the  layiiiLj 
down  upon  it  of  positions  fixed  by  the  observations  ;  then  the  tracing  from 
the  sketch-books  of  the  lines  of  the  rivers,  the  forms  of  the  lakes,  the  con- 
tours of  the  hills.  Specially  is  it  interesting  to  those  who  have  laid  in  the 
field  these  various  foundations,  to  see  them  all  brought  into  final  shape 
fi.xing  on  a  small  sheet  the  results  of  laborious  travel  over  waste  regions, 
and  giving  to  them  an  enduring  place  on  the  world's  surface. 

Mr.  Benton  had  i"\pected  to  find  the  map  in  progress,  and  was  d'  ap- 
fjointed  to  see  only  the  blank  projection.  But  his  disappointment  gave 
way  to  Interest  of  another  kind  when  he  saw  spread  out  on  the  tables  tht; 
evidences  of  the  material  first  to  be  digested.  His  visit  was  not  simply 
one  of  iffltelligent  curiosity,  but  there  was  purpose  in  it,  as  indeed,  I  found 
when  afterward  I  came  to  know  him,  there  was  in  all  that  he  did.  rh<! 
character  of  his  mind  was  to  utilize,  and  what  he  could  not  assimilate  In- 
did  not  touch.  He  knew  well  to  use  information  and  give  it  point.  The 
results  of  our  journeys  between  the  two  great  rivers  had  suggested  to  him 
the  same  work  for  the  broader  field  beyond  the  Missouri.  His  inquiries 
on  this  occasion  were  all  of  distinct  pertinency.  They  were  directed  to 
know  about  our  nutans  and  manner  of  travelling,  the  nature  of  the  work 
requircil  to  be  (\(i\\<^.  and  the  instruments  employed.  In  the  course  of  his 
inquiries  he  dwelt  on   the  unoccupied   country  beyond  the  Missouri  and 


AT  H'OA'A-  /x  ir.i.^///.V(;/v.v. 


«s 


the  t'xistins  uncertain  and  incoinplett;  kinnvledt^rc;  cnncerninfi;  it.  The  in- 
terview left  on  me  a  profound  impression  and  raised  excited  interest. 
The  ideas  sugj^esteil  remained  fixtures  in  my  mind.  The  thout^ht  of  pe:i- 
etratini,''  into  the  recesses  of  that  wilderness  reoion  filled  me  with  enthu- 
siasm I  saw  visions.  Formerly  I  had  been  entirely  devoted  to  my  in- 
tended profession  of  engineering.  The  lives  of  great  engineers  had  been 
inv  treasured  exemplars.  But  strict  engineering  had  lost  its  inspiration 
in  the  charm  of  the  new  I'lcld  inio  \vliii:b.  I  li;:  1  <•'}'.<■■'-  •  '  during  the  lasi  f(!\v 
y(;ars. 

In  this  interview  with  Mr.  IJenton  mj'  mind  I' td  been  (luicl:  t.)  .m.  e  a 
larger  lield  and  differing  and  greater  results,  'c  would  be  travel  o\er  a 
part  ol  the  world  which  still  remained  the  New  -the  opening  u|)  of  un- 
known Kinds  ;  the  making  unknown  countries  known  ;  and  the  study 
vithoiii  books  -the  learning  at  first  hand  from  nature  herself;  the  tlrink- 
ing  first  at  her  unknown  springs — became  a  source  of  never-ending  delight 
to  me.  I  felt  that  it  was  an  unreasonable  pleasure  to  expect  that  it  might 
happen  to  me  to  be  among  the  very  ".  ':o  whom  the  chance  had  fallen 
to  work  with  nature  when^  in  all  her  features  there  was  still  abciriginal 
freshness. 

This  interview  with  Mr.  Benton  was  pregnant  of  results  and  decisive  of 
iny  life.  In  what  way  it  brought  these  results  about,  and  how  important 
they  were,  will  be  seen  as  we  go  on. 

His  visit,  returned  by  Mr.  Nicollet  and  myself,  led  into  others  and 
i^rrev/  into  intimacy.  Congress  was  in  session,  and  at  his  house  I  often 
met  western  members  ;  all,  at  that  time,  being  "  west  "  which  lay  beyond 
Pennsylvania.  Often,  on  such  evenings,  we  being  present,  the  conversa- 
tion turned  upon  our  surveys  and  naturally  led  to  the  subjects  which  so 
much  interested  Mr.  Benton  and  his  western  colleagues.  Among  those 
who  were  more  especially  his  personal  and  political  friends  were  his  fellow- 
Senator  from  Missouri,  Lewis  F.  Linn,  and  Senator  Dodge,  the  elder  half- 
brother  of  Mr.  Linn— a  man  with  such  composure  of  natural  dignity,  in 
aspect  and  manner,  that  he  was  known  among  his  friends  as  "the  Sachem." 
There  was  great  love  and  unity  between  the  brothers,  who  were  in  appear- 
ance very  different  :  Senator  Dodge,  of  powerful  build  and  unusual  height, 
his  quiet  strength  of  manner  indicating  the  thoughtful,  commanding  habit 
of  his  mind  ;  Senator  Linn,  of  moderate  size,  but  with  a  beauty  as  complete 
as  it  was  remarkable — a  head  and  features  resembling  the  young  he^d  of 
Byron,  but  made  winning  by  the  expression  of  kind  feelings  and  the  play 
of  a  quick  mind. 

In  these  unpremeditated  talks,  where  unstudied  expression  gave  the 
color  of  every  man's  mind  and  bits  of  information  found  receptive  place, 
[tlans  were  of  easy  digestion.     And  in  this  way  measures  were  conceived 


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8.   . 


ft 


t     i-    t 


66 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  r.IFR—JOHN  CHARLKS  FRllMONT. 


and  perfected  which,  by  the  strength  behind  them,  carried  their  own  fulfil- 
ment. And  gradually,  as  being  kindred  with  our  thoughts  and  present 
occui)ations,  they  engrossed  our  minds  and  settled  into  practical  shape. 

The  months  passed,  and  carried  with  them  labor  done.  Our  prelimi- 
nary work  had  been  in  greater  part  completed,  and  we  had  begun  on  the 
map.  Mr.  Scammon  and  I.  Meantime,  Mr.  Nicollet's  health  was  being 
steadily  undermined,  lie  had  grown  restless,  and  made  frequent  visits 
away  from  Washington  ;  I  think  usually  to  some  quiet  retreat  among  his 
h-iends  in  Baltimore,  where,  too,  was  a  physician  who  had  his  confidence. 
He  was  not  in  condition  to  reduce  into  shape  the  materials  for  his  report, 
which  were  varied  and  interesting  and  embraced  the  labor  of  years  of 
thought  and  study  follow!  g  upon  most  interesting  travel.  And,  waiting 
for  the  return  of  nerve  and  strength  which  were  slow  in  coming,  his  writ- 
ing was  delayed.  No  second  hand  can  do  this  like  the  first.  The  impres- 
sions made  by  the  visible  objects,  the  pleasure  of  the  iirst  experience  and 
♦•l^c  anticipations  of  roused  curiosity,  the  sense  of  danger  threatened  and 
met,  the  relief  from  obstacles  overcome,  cannot  be  transfused  into  a  mind 
that  is  cold  and  unexcited.  The  lights  and  shadows  are  all  lost  on  the 
level  plane  ;  and  to  such  physical  description,  the  eye  that  has  not  seen  can- 
not bring  a  mind  to  feel  and  comprehend.  And  so  Mr.  Nicollet  waited, 
hoping  for  the  health  that  did  not  return. 

In  the  family  of  Mr.  Benton  were  four  sisters  and  but  one  son,  Ran- 
dolph, then  twelve  y(.Mrs  old.  It  fell  to  each  of  the  sisters  to  have  a 
marked  life  ;  and,  as  they  grew  into  womanhood,  they  were  separated  far 
apart,  as  often  happens  in  this  large  country  of  ours.  All  of  them  had 
strong,  high  character,  and  capacities  carefully  cultivated  ;  and  among  thein 
rare  musical  talent.  Randol|di  died  whc'U  just  entering  into  what  prom- 
ised to  be  a  distinguished  life. 

Jessie  was  the  second  daughter. 

I  went  with  the  eldest  of  the  sisters  to  a  school  concert  in  Georgetown, 
where  I  saw  her.  .She  was  then  just  in  the  bloom  of  her  girlish  beauty, 
and  perfect  health  effervesced  in  bright  talk  which  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
her  sister  drew  out. 

Naturally  I  was  attracted.  She  made  the  effect  that  a  rose  of  rare  color 
or  l)eautiful  picture  would  have  done.  Months  passed  before,  in  the  vaca- 
tion time,  I  saw  her  again,  at  her  father's  house  which  already  I  had  come 
to  frecjuent.  .She  was  happy  in  the  return  to  her  home,  and  my  first  im- 
pressions of  her  were  made  in  the  unreserve  of  family  life,  where  the  real 
nature  most  readily  expresses  itself  Her  beauty  had  come  far  enough 
down  from  English  ancestry  to  be  now  in  her  that  American  kind  which 
is  made  up  largely  of  mind  expressed  in  the  face  ;  but  it  still  showed  its 
.Saxon  descent.     At  that  time  of  awakening  mind  the  ([ualities  that  made 


CONNECTED  BY  MARK  JAG  E  WITH  SENATOR  BENTON. 


67 


n  fulfil- 
present 
ape. 
prelimi- 
1  on  the 
Ls  beini; 
:nt  visits 

\o\'\%  hi^ 
ifidence. 
s  report, 
years  ot 
,  waiting:; 
his  writ- 
G  iir.prcs- 
i(.;r.cc  and 
eninl  and 
to  a  mind 
St  on  the 
-  seen  can- 
et  waited, 

[son,  Ran- 
have  a 
larated  tar 
ien\  had 
long  them 
lat  prom- 


orgetown, 
)eauty, 
of  sccinii 


;n 


rare  color 
the  vaca- 
had  come 
y  first  ini- 
re  the  real 
\x  cnons^b 
and  which 
Ihowed  its 
I  that  made 


hers  could  onlv  be  seen  in  fiittin;^  siiadows  across  the  face,  or  in  the  ex- 
pressions of  inci[)icnt  thoiiyht  and  unused  and  untried  feeling.  So  in  writ- 
iii""  here  I  give  what  after-knowledge  made  known  to  me.  Nor  would  it 
l)f  ijossible  to  disentangle  the  interwoven  threads  of  memory  and  confine 
impressions  to  the  time  when  the)-  were;  inatle.  There  are  features  which 
convey  to  us  a  soul  so  white  that  they  impress  with  instant  pleasure,  and 
(if  this  kind  were  hers.  As,  too,  in  the  daily  contact  there  are  others  from 
which  to  receive  pleasant  words  or  kindly  .acts  gives  the  sort  of  agreeable 
surprise  we  feel  when  suddenly  we  come  upon  patches  of  bright,  parti- 
colored phlox  growing  on  nak(;d  rocks.  The  phlox  loves  the  naked  sand 
or  rock,  but  the  difference  is  in  the  warmth  it  (inds  there.  In  the  human 
rock  there  is  no  heiirt  to  replace  the  sun, 

Iler  qualities  were  all  womanly,  and  education  had  curiously  preserved 
the  down  of  a  modesty  which  was  innate.  There  had  been  no  experience 
of  life  to  brush  away  the  bloom.  She  had  inherited  from  her  father  his 
!:,rrasp  of  mind,  comprehending  with  a  tenacious  memory;  but  with  it  a 
([iiickness  of  perception  and  instant  realization  of  subjects  and  scenes  in 
tiieir  completed  extent  which  did  not  l)elong  to  his  ;  and  with  these,  warm 
svmpathies  a  generous  pity  for  human  suft'eTing,  and  a  tenderness  and 
sensibility  that  made  feeling  take  the  place  of  miii'l  ;  so  compelled  was 
every  impulse  to  pass  through  these  before  it  could  reach  the  surface  to 
fmd  expression.  There  was  a  rare  union  of  intelligence  to  feel  the  injury 
(if  events,  and  submission  to  them  with  silence  and  discretion  ;  and  withal 
,i  sweet,  and  happy,  and  forbearing  temper  which  has  remained  proof 
ai^f.'iinst  the  wearing  of  time. 

Insensibly  and  imperceptibly,  in  these  frequent  meetings,  there  came  a 
Ljlow  into  my  heart  which  changed  the  current  and  color  of  daily  life  and 
gave  beauty  to  common  things.  And  so  it  came  that  there  was  no  room 
lor  reason,  which  found  a  cold  and  dull  ear  that  heard,  but  did  not  listen. 

For  the  rest,  I  think  I  may  leave  what  more  I  might  say  to  the  record 
as  it  goes  along.  I  find  that,  in  undertaking  to  write  a  life-history  which 
shall  truly  give  the  complexion  of  the  minds  and  events  of  which  I  know, 
I  have  set  for  myself  a  difficult  task.  To  speak  of  friends  who  have  been 
ilcar  to  me  in  the  intimate  relations  of  life  ;  of  events  in  which  I  had 
part,  and  of  the  persons  concerned  in  them  with  me  and  it  is  precisely 
of  these  that  I  have  undertaken  to  write — is  hedged  with  obstacles  which 
o[)pnse  my  pen  at  every  line.  And  the  occurrences  in  even  a  few  lives 
inrough  fifty  years  are  long  to  give,  though  the  very  details,  which  for  va- 
rious reasons  are  forced  from  the  page,  are  just  what  might  prove  interest- 
ing as  making  up  our  human  life.  Still,  1  console  myself  with  thinking 
that  this  perhaps  would  be  a  iife-picture  that  no  living  man  might  draw. 

And  yet  I  thought  to  do  it. 


WVmjFp- 


68 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


The  winter  work  of  making  up  charts  required  the  rooms  we  had  bcoa 
using  at  the  Coast  Survey  building.  This,  with  the  frequent  and  prolonged 
absences  of  Mr.  Nicollet,  brought  about  :i  change  in  our  establishment  to 
smaller  but  comfortable  (juarters  at  the  foot  of  the  Capitol.  And  so  there  the 
work  was  continued  through  the  winter,  w!.hout  event,  until  the  death  of 
President  Harrison.  For  the  day  of  the  funeral  ceremonies,  I  cleared  our 
work-room  and  made  it  gay  with  plants  and  flowers  ;  for  from  its  windows 
the  family  of  Mr.  Benton  had  consented  to  view  the  procession.  The 
death  of  a  President  so  suddenly  following  his  accession  to  power  was  a 
shock  to  the  community.  As  yet  no  President  had  died  in  office  ;  and 
there  was  sincere  personal  feeling  for  General  Harrison,  who  was  a  brave 
and  amiable  man.  The  I'uneral  pageant  was  something  to  see  and  remem- 
ber, as  an  event  of  the  time.  I  was  to  take  part  with  my  corps  in  the  cere- 
monies, but  I  procured  leave  and  went  back  to  be  with  my  friends  ;  for  to 
me  the  funeral  occasion  proved,  as  I  had  hoped,  to  be  my  red-letter  day. 

All  this  time  Mr.  Nicollet's  health  was  not  mending.  The  writing  of 
his  report  was  still  delayed. 

In  the  surveys  that  had  been  made  during  his  last  e.xpedition,  the  u[)- 
per  part  only  of  some  of  the  larger  rivers  had  been  embraced.  The  Des 
Moines  was  one  of  these  ;  and  at  his  request  I  was  sent,  in  July,  to  make 
such  a  reconnoissance  of  its  lower  course  as  would  nearly  complete  it. 
Wheth(!r  or  not  this  detachment  of  myself  from  Washington  originated 
with  Mr.  Nicollet  I  do  not  know,  but  I  was  loath  to  go. 

I  had  again  with  me  on  this  survey  one  of  my  companions  of  the  former 
e.xpedition  in  Mr.  CharU*s  (jcycr,  who  accompanied  me  as  botanist.  1 
established  the  course  o'i  the  ri\ ht  upward  from  its  mouth  about  two  hun- 
dred miles,  which  brought  the  survey  to  the  Racoon  Forks  ;  and  Mr. 
Geyer  did  all  that  the  season  and  time  allowed  for  botany.  It  was  here 
that  Geyer  found  the  snake  under  his  flowers.  There  were  many  snakes 
along  the  river,  and  botany  became  a  hazardous  pursuit.  As  had  been  pro- 
posed, our  examination  was  confined  to  the  immediate  valley  of  the  river, 
but  we  frecjuently  ranged  into  the  woods,  where  deer  and  wild  turkey  were 
abundant  ;  and  the  survey  was  a  health-giving  excursion,  but  it  did  not 
cure  the  special  complaint  for  which  I  iuul  been  sent  there. 

The  influence  of  women  is  a  force  sometimes  dangerous.  Mrs.  Ben- 
ton was  not  friendly  to  my  suit,  though  to  me  she  always  was.  She  thought 
her  daughter  much  too  young  -  she  was  but  sixteen  and,  beyoiul  this,  that 
the  unsettled  life  of  an  army  officer  was  unfavorable  to  making  such  a  home 
as  she  wished  for  her.  .She  had  herself,  for  seven  years,  delayed  to  marr\ 
Colonel  Benton  until  he  resigned  from  the  army. 

Mrs.  Poinsett  and  Mrs.  Benton  were  on  friendly  terms,  and  Mr.  Poinsett 
was  Secretary  of  War  and  my  friend.     The  charge  of  this  reconnoissance, 


1 


PLANNING  MY  FIRST  EXPEDITION. 


69 


in  connection  with  Mr.  Nicollet's  important  work,  was  an  advance  for  me, 
unci  accordingly  I  was  sent.  But  it  did  not  take  long  to  get  through  with 
it.  I  returned  to  Washington  and  set  about  reducing  to  shape  the  new 
materia!  just  collected,  in  order  to  add  the  results  to  Mr.  Nicollet's  map. 

I  was  leading  a  busy,  working  life  ;  what  was  immediately  at  hand 
and  what  projected  should  have  been  enough  to  occupy  my  thoughts  and 
time.  A  probation  of  a  year  had  been  agreed  upon,  but,  as  sometimes 
happens,  the  most  important  events  of  our  individual  life  come  upon  us 
suddenly  and  unpremeditatedly  ;  and  so  it  was  with  our  marriage,  which 
was  on  October  19,  1S41. 

Mr.  Nicollet  was  ill  in  Baltimore,  and  we  went  tliere  to  see  him  at  the 
house  of  his  friend  Professor  Ducatel.  Our  visit  pleased  and  roused  him. 
The  nervous  exhaustion  which  was  a  feature  of  his  illness  made  everything 
seem  a  task.  He  had  come  to  remain  late  in  bed,  sometimes  doing  his 
writing  there  and  not  rising  at  all  during  the  day.  He  had  formed  an  ideal 
to  himself  for  ids  work,  which  he  was  never  satisfied  to  have  reached  when 
he  got  his  thoughts  011  paper. 

In  reality,  the  material  which  his  science  had  enabled  him  to  gather  was 
so  interesting  that  to  barely  set  down  the  facts  in  the  light  of  his  own 
knowledge  would  have  made  a  great  work. 

In  intervals  of  revived  health  he  came  to  Washington,  coming  always 
to  us— to  him  we  were  "  mes  enfants."  But  he  was  fi.xcdly  morbid  about 
the  impediments  and  discouragements  which  he  fancied  in  the  way  of  get- 
ting out  liis  work. 

I  was  now  busily  occupied  in  office-work  every  day  while  the  light 
lasted,  hurrying  to  put  in  good  order  what  remained  for  me  to  do  in 
connection  with  Mr.  Nicollet's  surveys.  As  I  have  said,  the  discussions 
among  the  western  members  had  taken  shape  ;  they  were  agreed  that  the 
time  had  come  to  put  into  action  their  views  concerning  Oregon. 

I  knew  that  Mr.  Benton  was  decided  that  an  expedition  ought  to  be 
sent  to  open  the  way  for  the  emigration  through  the  mountains  ;  and  I 
knew,  also,  he  intended  Mr.  Nicollett  should  be  at  its  head,  and  that  I 
should  be  his  assistant. 

Tliis  expedition  was  intended  to  be  "  auxiliary  and  in  aid  to  the  emi- 
l^ration  to  the  Lower  Columbia  ;  "  it  was  to  indicate  and  describe  the  line  of 
travel,  and  the  best  positions  for  military  posts ;  and  to  describe,  and  fix  in 
position,  the  South  Pass  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  at  which  this  initial  ex- 
pedition was  to  terminate.  At  this  time  the  .South  Pass,  at  the  head  of  the 
I'laite  River,  was  the  one  most  available  for  cur  emigration  and  already  used. 

With  this  knowledge,  and  the  hope  of  having  part  in  such  an  expedi- 
tion, I  Avorked  unremittingly  to  have  the  way  cleared  of  previous  work ; 
leaving  only  the  brief  evening  hours  for  the  new  home  just  begun  for  me. 


70 


MEMOIRS  Of  MY  LIFE -JOHN  CHARLES  FRJ^MONT. 


1  felt  I  was  being  drawn  into  the  current  of  important  political  events  : 
the  object  of  this  expedition  was  not  merely  a  survey  ;  beyond  that  was 
its  bearing  on  the  holding  of  our  territory  on  the  Pacific  ;  and  the  con- 
tingencies it  involved  were  large. 

One  stormy  evening  near  Christmas,  when  we  were  quietly  enjoyint; 
the  warm  glow  of  firelight,  a  note  was  brought  in  to  me  from  Mr.  Hasshr. 
The  bearer  was  a  strange  figure — -a  shock  of  light  curly  hair  standing  u|i 
thick  about  his  head,  and  a  face  so  red  that  we  attributed  it  to  a  wroii- 
cause  instead  of  to  the  cold  and  the  nervousness  and  anxiety  which 
turned  his  speech  into  stammering.  Under  the  first  impression  I  weru 
outside  with  him.  I  found  that  he  was  a  German,  a  skilled  topographer, 
who  came  to  me  with  this  letter  from  Mr.  Hassler  requesting  employment 
for  him  if  we  had  any  to  give.  I  brought  him  in  again,  and  sat  him  down 
by  the  fire  while  1  thought  over  what  might  be  done  to  have  the  pleas- 
ure of  meeting  Mr.  Hassler's  wish.  I  found  that  he  was  actually  without 
means  of  support.  The  failure  of  an  appropriation  had  thrown  him  out  of 
his  regular  work,  and  the  needs  of  his  little  family  were  immediate.  He 
was  divided  between  their  want  and  his  own  natural  pride,  and  asked  of 
me  to  go  with  him  to  verify  their  condition,  which  I  did  ;  and  their  Christ- 
mas was  made  comfortable. 

There  were  astronomical  observations  remaining  unreduced.  That 
work,  I  told  him,  I  could  get  for  him.  This  he  said  he  was  not  able  to 
do.  His  profession  was  topography — in  this  he  excelled,  but  that  was  all. 
The  only  thing  I  could  devise  was  to  get  for  him  this  astronomical  work 
and  do  it  myself,  which  I  could  by  working  in  the  evenings.  It  troub- 
led him  greatly  that  I  should  have  to  do  this  for  him,  but  it  was  the  only 
way  I  could  come  in  aid  ;  and  so  it  was  done.  This  was  Preuss  ;  and 
this  was  the  beginning  of  our  long  friendly  comradeship.  The  little  ser 
vice  which  1  was  able  to  render  him  he  amply  repaid  by  years  of  faithful 
and  valuable  service  as  topographer  on  my  journeys,  during  which  his 
even  temper  and  patient  endurance  of  hardship  earned  my  warm  regard. 
Preuss  had  the  endurance  in  working  with  an  aim  that  so  characterizes  his 
nation,  and  with  it  a.  cheerfiil  philosophy  of  his  own  which  often  brightened 
dark  situations.  He  was  of  those  who  were  comrades,  and  part  with  me, 
in  the  life  of  which  I  am  writing. 

Therefore  I  give  them  their  place,  not  content  to  leave  them  on  the 
page  merely  as  a  bodiless  name  which  awakens  no  interest.  I  wish  to 
give  enough  of  their  personality  to  individualize  them,  and  make  them 
known  as  I  came  to  know  them,  so  that  hereafter  when  from  time  to  time 
they  reappear  in  the  narrative,  it  will  be  as  familiar  figures  in  whom 
something  of  the  interest  of  old  acquaintance  may  be  felt. 

The  year  which  had  been  so  eventful  to  me  was  drawing  to  its  close, 


PLANNING  MY  FIRST  EXPEDITION. 


7» 


events  : 

W^m 

liat  was 

^B 

he  coii- 

1 

^njoying 
Hasslcr. 

^^B 

iding  u|i 
a  wroii_L; 

'^^S^m 

y   which 

Wm 

1   I  went 

'^1 

graphcr, 

9 

jloynieiu 

''9 

im  down 

;)i^£H^H 

le  plcas- 
f  without 

ni  out  of 

ate.     He 

.^B 

asked  of 

't^l 

ir  Christ- 

9 

d.     That 

m 

t  able  ti) 

,  ^"^hH 

t  was  all. 

, 

ical  work 

It  troub- 

\ 

the  onl) 

jss  ;    and 

J 

little  scr 

)f  faithful 

f 

vhich  his 

1  rej^ard. 

prizes  his 

■4 

•ightened 
with  mc, 

^1 

11  on  the 

- 

wish  to 

ike  them 

e  to  time 

in  whom 

its  close, 


and  the  Christmas  time  which  smoodis  its  end  was  at  hand.  Mr.  Hassler 
offered  us  his  carriage  to  make  the  New  Year's  visit  of  ceremony  to  the 
President,  and  to  please  him  we  accepted  it.  But  it  took  some  nerve  to 
drive  up  in  the  ark  among  the  holiday  crowd,  who  were  familiar  enough 
with  its  Noah,  but  looked  and  smiled  on  the  young  lady  in  lull  dress  and 
officer  in  uniform.  Mrs.  Fremont  disembarked  at  her  father's  to  assist  in 
the  reception  there,  and  that  evening  in  the  intimacy  of  after-dinner  talk 
there  came  to  me  the  probability  of  my  being  the  head  of  the  proposed 
expedition. 

Mr.  Nicollet's  health  did  nut  improve  ;  but  was  steadily  failing.  My 
mind  was  unwilling  to  see  this.  But  the  larger  experience  of  Mr.  Benton 
made  him  sure  Mr.  Nicollet  could  not  again  take  charge  of  an  expedition. 

The  evening  was  passed  in  considering  this  contingency,  and  with  the 
New  Year  began  my  joint  work  with  Mr.  Benton  in  behalf  of  our  western 
territories. 

The  months  immediately  following  were  occupied  in  preparation.  The 
object  of  the  expedition,  as  "ordered  by  the  Topographical  Bureau  with 
the  sanction  of  the  Secretary  of  War,"  was  simply  to  explore  the  country 
between  the  Missouri  River  and  the  Rocky  Mountains  ;  but  its  real  purpose, 
the  objects  which  were  had  in  view  in  designing  it,  were  known  only  to  the 
circle  of  its  friends.  It  was  not  until  long  after  that  it  was  avowed  to  be 
"  in  aid  of  and  auxiliary  to  the  Oregon  emigration." 

General  Harrison,  as  a  western  and  military  man,  would  most  probably 
have  entered  heartily  into  the  ultimate  motive  of  the  expedition.  With 
him  Mr.  Benton  was  on  friendly  terms.  President  Harrison's  Secretary  of 
War,  John  Bell,  of  Tennessee,  was  also  a  western  man.  But  the  death  of 
the  President  made  different  conditions.  Mr.  Tyler  threw  the  weight  o{ 
his  administration  against  any  measure  to  encourage  and  aid  the  emigra- 
tion to  Oregon.  His  Secretary  of  War,  Mr.  Spencer,  was  from  the  cast, 
and  a  lawyer.  These  were  the  altered  circumstances  which  required  pru- 
dence and  reserve  in  avoiding  any  check  to  the  projected  movement  to 
settle  the  Oregon  (question  by  '  )ii'.'.r,ti()n.  The  amount  appropriated  was 
small.  In  obtaining  this  it  was  (..Cv'ssary  to  use  caution,  in  order  to  avoid 
the  opposition  which  for  variou'^  reasons  might  be  expected.  This  Mr. 
Benton's  parliamentary  experience  enablcnl  him  to  do  successfully.  But 
the  limited  means  exacted  a  close  economy  in  the  outfit.  With  the  plan 
fully  settled  I  went  in  March  to  New  York  to  obtain  necessary  instru- 
ments and  other  essentials.  .Among  these  I  had  made  an  india-rubber 
boat,  with  air-tight  compartments,  to  be  used  in  crossing  or  examining 
water-courses.  So  far  as  I  know,  this  was  the  first  boat  of  the  kind  made 
or  used  in  such  work.  When  finished  it  was  brought  to  Washington  by 
Mr.  Horace  Day,  who  took  much  pride  in  ii.      It  was  the  early  day  of  india- 


'     l; 


;!        I 


i:| 


I    ii 


72 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


rubber,  when  its  preparations  were  not  "odorless."  Mr.  Day  himself  un- 
packed it  at  the  house,  on  a  broad  gallery  opening'  from  the  dining-room, 
saying  that  there  "  might  be  some  odor  from  the  chemicals."  There  was; 
to  such  a  degree  that  it  was  promptly  transferred  to  the  stable,  but  not  in 
time  to  avoid  a  long-contested  battle  between  his  "  chemicals  "  and  the 
obligatory  disinfectants.  Notwithstanding,  it  proved  of  valuable  service, 
until  finally  it  came  to  a  violent  end  in  the  line  of  its  duty. 

The  unreserve  of  dailv  intercourse  under  his  own  roof  had  gfiven  me  a 
familiar  knowledge  of  Mr.  Benton's  plans.  Recognizing  fully  his  forceful 
energy,  and  the  certainty  of  success  this  carried  with  it,  I  gave  henceforward 
to  him  and  the  work  confided  to  me  unstinted  devotion. 


"»'"IPI  TT 


'■     I 


iV:i' 


ri  II 


CHAI'TER     IV. 

Mv  first  Expedition — Personnel  of  l';irty — Mccl  Kit  C.irson — Enormous  Herds  of  Buf- 
falo—  Incidents  of  Journey — Meet  Bridger — His  into  Fight  witli  Sioux — Fort  L;u- 
aniie— South  Pass  Reached — Ascent  of  the  loftiest  Peai<  of  Wind  River  Chain  - 
American  Flag  Planted — The  Pi(jneer  Bee— Object  of  Expedition  so  far  Success- 
ful—llonieward  Journey — Running  the  Canons,  etc.,  etc. 


Ai.i.  was  now  ready.  I  left  W'a.shington  for  the  West  on  May  2d,  Mrs. 
I'rcmoiit  remaininor  at  home  with  her  family  during  my  absence. 

Arri\iny  at  St.  Louis,  I  was  received  at  her  home  with  cordial  hospital- 
ity by  Mrs.  Sarah  Benton  Brant,  the  favorite  niece  of  Mr.  Benton  and 
wile  of  an  old  friend  and  army  oflicer.  In  all  my  journeys  from  St.  Louis, 
and  in  my  visits  to  it  in  later  years,  I  have  been  always  welcomed  by  her 
with  an  affectionate  regard  which  I  have  reciprocated  and  cherished  to  the 
present  hour  as  among  the  most  satisfactory  of  my  recollections. 

This  expedition,  directed  as  it  was  toward  the  opening  of  the  western 
territory,  was  pleasing  to  the  people  of  St.  Louis,  who  furthered  niy  prep- 
arations with  prompt  and  willing  aid. 

For  this  journey,  which  would  be  exposed  to  serious  contingencies,  good 
men  and  fitting  animals  were  a  first  necessity.  The  getting  these  together 
-the  necessary  equipment  wdtich  it  needs  experienced  foresight  to  provide 
—required  time ;  but  at  the  end  of  several  weeks  this  had  been  done,  and 
a  party  of  valuable  and  experienced  men  selected.  Among  these  I  had  eii- 
Ljajred  as  hunter  Lucien  Maxwell,  a  son-in-law  of  one  of  the  principal  mer- 
chants in  New  Mexico,  Mr.  Beaubien,  and  brother-in-law  of  Christopher 
Carson,  better  known  as  "  Kit  Carson,"  who  also  had  his  home  in  Taos. 
Maxwell  was  about  twenty-eight  years  of  age,  about  five  feet  ten  inches 
in  height,  and  strongly  built.  He  was  personally  known,  by  trading  among 
them,  to  the  tribes  who  ranged  the  country  toward  New  Mexico,  accus- 
tomed to  the  life  of  the  prairies,  and  a  resolute  man  and  good  hunter. 
Carson  and  he  were  close  friends. 

My  journey  from  St.  Louis  was  by  steamboat  up  the  Missouri  to  a 
point  near  the  mouth  of  the  Kansas  River,  where  a  few  houses  were 
the  nucleus  of  a  future  town,  but  then  called  "  Chouteau's  "  or  Kansas 
Landing. 


I: 


!     ill 


!  ■:! 


! 


74 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRtiMOXT. 


On  the  boat  I  met  Kit  Carson.  He  was  returning  from  putting  his 
little  daughter  in  a  convent-school  at  St.  Louis.  I  was  pleased  with  him 
and  his  manner  of  address  at  this  first  meeting.  He  was  a  man  of  medium 
height,  broad-shouldered  and  deep-chested,  with  a  clear  steady  blue  eye 
and  frank  speech  and  address  ;  quiet  and  unassuming. 

It  will  be  anticipating  to  speak  here  of  Carson  in  connection  with  after- 
events,  but  I  give  one  incident  to  illustrate  the  simple  honesty  of  his  char- 
acter. 

He  had  gone  to  Washington  with  despatches  from  me  in  1847,  and  was 
staying  at  the  house  of  Senator  Benton,  welcomed  there  as  my  friend. 
Mr.  Benton  was  in  the  West,  but  Carson's  modesty  and  gentleness  quickly 
made  him  a  place  in  the  regard  of  the  family,  to  whom  he  gave  back  a  last- 
ing attachment.  i\t  one  time  during  his  stay  he  was  seen  to  be  troubled 
in  mind,  and  our  young  friend,  Midshipman  Beale,  being  as'.jd  to  find 
what  had  quenched  Carson's  good  spirits,  ascertained  that  he  felt  it  was 
wrong  to  be  among  such  ladies  when  they  might  not  like  to  associate 
V 'th  him  if  they  knew  he  had  had  an  Indian  wife.  "  She  was  a  good  wife 
to  .  le.  I  never  came  in  from  hunting  that  she  did  not  have  the  warm 
water  ready  for  my  feet."  She  had  died  long  since,  and  he  was  now  mar- 
ried to  a  daughter  of  Beaubien.  But  his  straightforward  nature  would 
not  let  him  rest  while  there  was  anything  concealed  which  he  thought 
ought  to  be  known  to  the  family  who  were  receiving  him  as  a  friend. 
It  was  the  child  of  his  Indian  wife  that  he  had  just  placed  in  the  shelter 
of  the  St.  Louis  convent-school  when  we  first  met. 

I  had  expected  to  engage  as  guide  an  old  mountaineer,  Captain  Drips, 
but  I  was  so  much  pleased  with  Carson  that  when  he  asked  to  go  with 
me  I  was  glad  to  take  him. 

Now,  he  has  become  so  familiarly  known  that  I  will  let  the  narrative 
tell  of  the  life  we  had  together,  out  of  which  grew  our  enduring  friend- 
ship. 

From  the  Landing  I  went  ten  miles  up  the  Kansas  River  to  the  trading- 
post  of  Mr.  Cyprian  Chouteau,  where  we  were  already  on  Indian  ground. 
This  was  one  of  the  friendly  contributions  by  the  St.  Louis  Chouteaus, 
which  were  to  come  in  aid  on  this  and  future  journeys.  We  were  delayed 
here  some  twenty  days  in  fitting  men  and  animals,  arms  and  equipment, 
into  place  and  good  order  ;  but  the  time  used  in  this  was  regained  in  the 
strength  of  the  animals,  as  the  spring  grass  was  improving  with  every  day. 

This  was  now  to  be  their  only  food  ;  and  in  a  measure  regulated  the 
travel,  which  depended  on  their  condition. 

At  length  we  set  out.  It  was  like  a  ship  leaving  the  shore  for  a  long 
voyage,  and  carrying  with  her  provision  against  all  needs  in  her  isolation 
on  the  ocean. 


■I 


FIRSr  EXPEDITION— .\J I'lET  KIT  CARSON. 


75 


Had  weather,  which  interfered  with  astronomical  observations,  delayed 
us  several  days  in  the  early  part  of  June  at  this  post,  which  is  on  the  right 
bank  of  the  Kansas  River,  about  ten  miles  above  the  mouth,  and  six  be- 
yond the  western  boundary  of  Missouri.  The  sky  cleared  off  at  length, 
and  we  were  enabled  to  determine  our  position — in  longitude  94^  25' 46", 
and  latitude  39"^  5'  57".  The  elevation  above  the  seals  about  seven  hun- 
dred feet.  Our  camp,  in  the  meantime,  presented  an  animated  and  bus- 
tlin'T  scene.  All  were  busily  occupied  in  completing  the  necessary  arrange- 
ments for  our  campaign  in  the  wilderness,  and  profiting  by  this  short 
delay  on  the  verge  of  civilization  to  provide  ourselves  with  all  the  little 
essentials  to  comfort  in  the  nomadic  life  we  were  to  lead  for  the  ensuing 
summer  months.  Gradually,  however,  everything — the  mak'ricl  of  the 
camp,  men,  horses,  and  even  mules — settled  into  its  place,  and  by  the  loth 
we  were  ready  to  depart ;  but,  before  we  mount  our  horses,  I  will  give  a 
short  description  of  the  party  with  which  I  performed  this  service. 

I  had  collected  in  the  neighborhood  of  St.  Louis  twenty-one  men,  prin- 
cipally Creole  and  Canadian  voyageurs,  who  had  become  familiar  with 
prairie  life  in  the  service  of  the  fur  companies  in  the  Indian  country.  iVIr. 
Charles  Preuss,  a  native  of  Germany,  was  my  assistant  in  the  topograph- 
ical part  of  the  survey.  Maxwell,  as  has  already  been  said,  had  been  en- 
i,fagcd  as  hunter ;  Carson  was  our  guide.  The  persons  engaged  in  St. 
Louis  were : 

Clement  Lambert,  J.  B.  L'Esperance,  J.  B.  Lefevre,  Benjamin  Potra, 
Louis  Gouin,  J.  B.  Dumes,  Basil  Lajeunesse,  Francois  Tessier,  Benjamin 
Cadottc,  Joseph  Clement,  Daniel  Simonds,  Leonard  Benoit,  Michel  Morly, 
Baptiste  Bernier,  Honore  Ayot,  Franqois  Latulippe,  Francois  Badeau, 
Louis  Menard,  Joseph  Ruelle,  Motse  Chardonnais,  Auguste  Janisse,  Raph- 
ael Proue. 

In  addition  to  these,  Henry  Brant,  son  of  Colonel  J.  B.  Brant,  of  St 
Louis,  a  young  man  nineteen  years  of  age,  and  Randolph,  a  lively  boy  of 
twelve,  son  of  Mr.  Benton,  accompanied  me,  for  the  development  of  mind 
and  body  which  such  an  expedition  would  give.  We  were  all  well 
armed  ;  and  mounted,  with  the  exception  of  eight  men,  who  conducted 
as  many  carts,  in  which  were  packed  our  stores,  with  the  baggage 
and  instruments,  and  which  were  each  drawn  by  two  mules.  A  few 
loose  horses,  and  four  oxen  which  had  been  added  to  our  stock  of  pro- 
visions, completed  the  train.  We  set  out  on  the  morning  of  the  loth, 
which  happened  to  be  Friday — a  circumstance  which  our  men  did  not  fail 
to  remember  and  recall  during  the  hardships  and  vexations  of  the  ensuing 
journey.  Mr.  Cyprian  Chouteau,  to  whose  kindness  during  our  stay  at 
his  house  we  were  much  indebted,  accompanied  us  several  miles  on  our 
way,  until  we  met  an  Indian  whom  he  had   engaged  to  conduct  us  on  the 


l' 


T 


i 

i 

i 


',(<  Af/:.\rO/h'S  OF  AfV  UFI-.-JOlfX  CI/A/U.F.S  FRFMOXr. 

first  thirty  or  forty  iniltis,  w  hcrt;  he  was  to  consiLjn  u;  to  tlic  oc(;an  of 
prairie,  which,  we  were  told,  stretched  without  interruption  almost  to  tlir 
base  of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

Im-oiii  the  belt  of  wood  which  borders  the  Kansas,  in  which  we  liu! 
passed  se\'eral  jfood-lookinL,"-  bidian  farms,  we  suddenly  emertjed  on  tii' 
prairies,  which  received  us  at  tlu;  outset  with  some  of  their  strikinij  char- 
acteristics ;  for  here  antl  there  rode  an  Indian,  and  but  a  few  mihis  distant 
lieavy  clouds  of  smoke  were  rollini^''  l)efore  tlie  fire.  \\\  about  ten  niilc-> 
we  reached  the  .Santa  l'\'  road,  alon^'  which  we  continued  for  a  short  time 
and  encamped  early  on  a  small  stream  ;  havin;,;'  travelled  about  eleven 
miles.  Durin;,;' our  journey,  it  was  the  customary  practice  to  encamp  ;!ii 
hour  or  two  before  sunset,  when  the  carts  uere  disposed  so  as  to  form  a 
sort  of  barricade  around  a  circle  souk;  eitdity  yards  in  diameter.  Tin- 
tents  were  pitched,  and  the  hors(;s  hobljled  and  turned  loose  to  j.^raxc  ; 
and  but  a  few  minutes  elapsed  before  tin;  cooks  of  the  messes,  of  whicli 
there  were  four,  wcM-e  busily  enj^raj^ed  in  i)r('parin!.,''  the  eveniuL,''  meal.  At 
nightfall  the  horses,  mules,  and  o.xtm  were  driven  in,  and  [)ickcted  -tluu 
is,  secured  by  a  halter,  of  which  one  vnA  was  tied  to  a  small  steel-sho  I 
picket,  and  driven  into  the  ;^n-v)und  ;  tin;  halter  beinjj;  twenty  or  thirt\ 
feet  lons.^,  which  enabled  them  to  oijtain  a  little  food  durinsj;  the  nii.;hi. 
When  we  had  reached  a  i»art  of  the  country  where  such  a  precaulinn 
became  necessar)',  the  carts  bein^;'  regularly  arran;.;-ed  for  defending  liie 
camp,  guard  was  mounted  at  (,'ight  o'clock,  consisting  of  three  men,  wlm 
were  relieved  every  two  hours  ;  the  morning  watch  being  horse-guard  for 
the  day.  .\t  daybreak  the  camp  w.is  roused,  the  animals  turned  loose  to 
graze,  and  breakfast  generally  over  between  six  and  seven  o'clock,  when 
we  resumed  our  march,  making  regularly  a  halt  at  noon  for  one  or  two 
hours.  Such  was  usually  the  order  of  the  day,  except'when  accident  ot 
country  forced  a  variation  ;  whicli,  hov.-ever,  happened  but  rarely.  Wf 
tra\ell(Hl  the  next  day  along  the  Sante  l""e  roatl,  whicl  we  left  in  the  ai- 
ternoon,  and  encam[KMl  late  in  the  evening  on  a  small  c  2ek,  called  by  the 
Indians  Mishmagwi.  Just  as  we  arrived  at  camp,  on  of  the  horses  s<.t 
off  at  full  speed  on  his  return,  and  was  followed  by  oth  s.  Several  men 
were  sent  in  pursuit,  and  returned  with  tlie  fugitives  abc  l  midnight,  with 
the  exception  of  one  man,  who  did  not  make  his  appeara  .:e  until  mornin:.^. 
He  had  lost  his  way  in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  and  si  ^jt  on  the  prairie. 
Shortly  after  midnight  it  began  to  rain  heavily,  and,  as  our  tents  were  of 
light  and  thin  cloth,  they  offered  but  little  obstruction  to  rain  ;  we  were  all 
w^eli  soaked,  and  glad  when  morning  came.  We  had  a  rainy  march  on 
the  1 2th,  but  the  weather  grew  fine  as  the  day  advanced.  We  encamped 
in  a  remarkably  beautiful  situation  on  the  Kansas  bluffs,  which  commanded 
a  fine  view  of  the  river  valley,  here   from   three  to  four  miles  wide.     The 


% 


/•/A'.S/-  r.X /'/:/)/  17(K\-K  LXS. I s. 


77 


central  portion  \v;is  occupied  by  a  hroail  belt  of  heavy  timber,  and  nt-.irer 
the  liill'i  the  prairies  were  of  tin;  richest  verchire.  (^ne  of  the  ()xt.;n  was 
kilknl  here  for  food. 

We  reachetl  the;  ford  of  the  Kansas  late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  14th, 
where  the  river  was  two  hundred  and  thirty  \ards  wide,  and  commenced 
immediately  preparations  for  crossing.  I  luul  expected  to  find  the  river 
fonhible  ;  but  it  had  been  swollen  by  the  late  rains,  and  was  swee|jing-  by 
with  an  angry  currei  ^,  yellow  and  tur'uid  as  the  Missouri.  Up  to  this 
point,  the  road  we  h;' I  travelled  was  a  remarkably  fine  one,  well  b(.'at(Mi, 
and  level— the  usual  road  of  a  prairie  country.  By  our  route,  the  li  rd  was 
one  hundred  miles  from  tlie  mouth  of  the  Kansas  River.  Several  mounted 
men  led  the  way  into  the  stream,  to  swim  across.  The  animals  were 
driven  in  after  them,  and  in  a  few  minutes  all  had  reached  the  opposite 
bank  in  safety,  with  the  exception  of  the  oxen,  which  swam  some  distance 
clown  the  river,  and,  returning  to  the  right  bank,  were  not  got  over  until 
the  next  morning.  In  the  meantime,  the  carts  had  been  unloaded  and 
dismantled,  and  an  india-rubber  boat,  which  I  had  brought  with  me  for  the 
survey  of  the  Platte  River,  placed  in  the  water.  The  boat  was  twenty  ft;et 
long  and  five  broad,  and  on  it  were  placed  the  body  and  wheels  of  a  cart, 
with  the  load  belonging  to  it,  and  three  men  with  paddles. 

The  velocity  of  the  current,  and  the  inconvenient  freight,  rendering  it 
diflicult  to  be  managed,  Basil  Lajeunesse,  one  of  our  best  swimmers,  took 
in  his  teeth  a  line  attached  to  the  l)oat,  ard  swam  ahead  in  order  to  reach 
a  footing  as  soon  as  possible,  and  assist  in  drawing  her  over.  In  this  man- 
ner, six  passages  had  been  successfully  made,  and  as  many  carts  with  their 
contents,  and  a  greater  portion  of  the  party  deposited  on  the  left  bank  ; 
hut  night  was  drawing  near,  and,  in  our  anxiety  to  have  all  over  before 
the  darkness  closed  in,  I  put  upon  the  boat  the  remaining  two  carts,  with 
their  accompanying  load.  The  man  at  tlie  helm  was  timid  on  water,  and, 
in  his  alarm,  capsized  the  boat.  Carts,  barrels,  boxes,  and  bales  were  in 
a  nicin^nt  floating  down  the  current ;  but  all  the  men  who  were  on  the 
sh.ore  jumped  into  the  water,  without  stojiping  to  think  if  they  could  swim, 
and  almcr.t  everything — evrn  heavy  articles,  such  as  guns  and  lead — was 
recovered. 

Two  of  the  men,  who  could  not  swim,  came  nigh  being  drowned,  and 
all  the  sugar  belonging  to  one  of  the  messes  wasted  its  sweets  on  the 
muddy  waters  ;  but  our  heaviest  loss  was  a  bag  of  coffee,  which  contained 
nearly  all  our  provision.  It  was  a  loss  which  none  but  a  traveller  in  a 
strange  and  inhospitable  co  jntry  can  appreciate  ;  and  often  afterward, 
when  excessive  toil  and  long  marching  had  overcome  us  with  fatigue  and 
weariness,  we  remembered  and  mourned  over  our  loss  in  the  Kansas. 
Carson  and  Maxwell  had  been  much  in  the  water  yesterday,  and  both,  in 


78 


AfF.MO/J^S  OF  MY  I.IFK—JOHN  CHARLES  FRilMONT. 


1:1     I 


m\    \\ 


\\  i.i 


consequence,  were  taken  ill.  The  former  continuing  so,  I  remained  in 
camp.  A  number  of  Kansas  Indians  visited  us  to-day.  Going  up  to  on*,' 
of  the  groups  who  were  scattered  among  the  trees,  I  found  one  sitting  on 
the  ground,  among  some  of  the  men,  gravely  and  fluently  speaking  French, 
with  as  much  facility  and  as  little  embarrassment  as  any  of  my  own  party, 
who  were  nearly  all  of  French  origin. 

On  all  sides  was  heard  the  strange  language  of  his  own  people,  wild, 
and  harmonizing  well  with  their  appearance.  I  listened  to  him  for  some 
time  with  feelings  of  strange  curiosity  and  interest.  He  was  now  appar- 
(Mitly  thirty-five  years  of  age  ;  and,  on  inquiry,  I  learned  that  he  had  been 
at  St.  Louis  wdien  a  boy,  and  there  had  learned  the  French  language. 
From  one  of  the  Indian  women  I  obtained  a  fine  cow  and  calf  in  exchange 
for  a  yoke  of  oxen.  Several  of  them  brought  us  vegetables,  pumpkins, 
onions,  beans,  and  lettuce.  One  of  them  brought  butter,  and  from  a  half- 
breed  near  the  river  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  obtain  some  twenty  or  thirty 
pounds  of  coffee.  The  dense  timber  in  which  we  had  encamped  interfered 
with  astronomical  observations,  and  our  wet  and  damaged  stores  required 
exposure  to  the  sun.  Accordingly  the  tents  were  struck  early  the  next 
morning,  and,  leaving  camp  at  six  o'clock,  we  moved  about  seven  miles  up 
tile  river,  to  a  handsome,  open  prairie,  some  twenty  feet  above  the  water, 
where  the  fine  grass  afforded  a  luxurious  repast  to  our  horses. 

During  the  day  we  occupied  ourselves  in  makmg  astronomical  observa- 
tions, in  order  to  lay  down  the  country  to  this  place ;  it  being  our  custom 
to  keep  up  our  map  regularly  in  the  field,  which  we  found  attended  with 
many  advantages.  The  men  were  kept  busy  in  drying  the  provisions, 
painting  the  cart-covers,  and  otherwise  completing  our  equipage,  until  the 
afternoon,  when  powder  was  distributed  to  them,  and  they  spent  some 
hours  in  firing  at  a  mark.  We  were  now  fairly  in  the  Indian  country,  and 
it  began  to  be  time  to  prepare  for  the  chances  of  the  wilderness. 

Friday,  yunc  lyth. — The  weather  yesterday  had  not  permitted  us  to 
make  the  observations  I  was  desirous  to  obtain  here,  and  I  therefore  did  not 
move  to-day.  The  people  continue  their  target-firing.  In  the  steep  bank 
of  the  river  here  were  nests  of  innumerable  swallows,  into  one  of  which  a 
large  prairie-snake  had  got  about  half  his  body,  and  was  occupied  in  eatinjr 
tlie  young  birds.  The  old  ones  were  flying  about  in  great  distress,  darting 
at  him,  and  vainly  endeavoring  to  drive  him  off.  A  shot  wounded  him,  and, 
being  killed,  he  was  cut  open,  and  eighteen  young  swallows  were  found  in 
his  body.  A  sudden  storm  that  burst  upon  us  in  the  afternoon,  cleared 
away  in  a  brilliant  sunset,  followed  by  a  clear  night,  which  enabled  us 
to  determine  our  position,  in  longitu'e  95"  38'  05",  and  in  latitude  39' 
o5'  40". 

A  party  of  emigrants  to  the  Columbia  River,  under  the  charge  of  Dr, 


FIRST  EXPEDITION— INDIAN  COUNTRY. 


79 


White,  an  agent  of  the  Government  in  Oregon  Territory,  were  about  three 
weeks  in  advance  of  us.  They  consisted  of  men,  women,  and  children. 
There  were  sixty-tour  men,  and  sixteen  or  seventeen  families.  They  had 
a  considerable  number  of  cattle,  and  were  transporting  their  household 
furniture  in  large  heavy  wagons.  I  understood  that  there  had  been  much 
sickness  among  them,  and  that  they  had  lost  several  children.  One  of  the 
party,  who  had  lost  his  child,  and  whose  wife  was  very  ill,  had  left  them 
about  one  hundred  miles  hence  on  the  prairies  ;  and  as  a  hunter,  who  had 
accompanied  them,  visited  our  camp  this  evening,  we  availed  ourselves  of 
liis  return  to  the  !:'iates  to  write  to  our  friends. 

The  morning  of  the  iSth  was  very  unpleasant.  A  fine  rain  was  falling, 
with  cold  wind  from  the  north,  and  mists  r.iade  the  river-hills  look  dark 
and  gloomy.  We  left  our  camp  at  seven,  journeying  along  the  foot  of  the 
hills  which  border  the  Kansas  Valley,  generally  about  three  miles  wide, 
ami  extremely  rich.  We  halted  for  dinner,  after  a  march  of  about  thirteen 
miles,  on  the  banks  of  one  of  the  many  little  tributaries  to  the  Kansas, 
which  look  like  trenches  in  the  prairie,  and  are  usually  well  timbered. 
After  crossing  this  stream,  I  rode  off  some  miles  to  the  left,  attracted  by 
the  appearance  of  a  cluster  of  huts  near  the  mouth  of  the  \'^ermilion.  It 
was  a  large  but  deserted  Kansas  village,  scattered  in  an  open  wood,  along 
the  margin  of  the  stream,  on  a  spot  chosen  with  the  customary  Indian 
fondness  for  beauty  of  scenery.  The  Pawnees  had  attacked  it  in  the  early 
s|)ring.  Seme  of  the  houses  were  burnt,  and  others  blackened  with  smoke, 
and  weeds  were  already  getting  possession  of  the  cleared  places.  Riding 
up  the  Vermilion  River,  I  reached  the  ford  in  time  to  meet  the  carts,  and, 
crossing,  encamped  on  its  western  side.  The  weather  continued  cool,  the 
thermometer  being  this  evening  as  low  as  49" ;  but  the  night  was  suffici- 
cndy  clear  for  astronomical  observations,  which  placed  us  in  longituile  96' 
04'  07",  and  latitude  39'  15'  19".  .\t  sunset  the  barometer  was  at  28.S45, 
thermometer  64. 

We  breakfasted  the  next  morning  at  half-past  five,  and  left  our  encamp- 
ment early.  Th":  morning  was  cool,  the  thermometer  being  at  45'.  Quit- 
\w\g  the  river  bo;^om,  the  road  ran  along  the  uplands,  over  a  rolling  coun- 
',ry,  generally  in  view  of  the  Kansas,  from  eight  to  twelve  miles  distant. 
lany  large  boulders,  of  a  very  compact  sandstone,  of  various  shades  of 
ixil,  some  of  them  four  or  five  tons  in  weight,  were  scattered  along  the 
i'.ills ;  and  many  beautiful  plants  in  flower,  among  which  the  Atnorpha  ca- 
iCiccHs  was  a  characteristic,  enlivened  the  green  of  the  prairie.  At  the 
heails  of  the  ravines  I  remarked,  occasionally,  thickets  o{  Salix  /on<^ifoI/a, 
th(!  most  common  willow  of  the  country.  We  travelled  nineteen  miles, 
.mJ  [pitched  our  tents  at  evening  on  the  head-waters  of  a  small  creek,  now 
nearly  dry,  but  having  in  its  bctl  several  fine  springs.     The  b.irometer  in- 


piriT 


80 


ME.UO/KS  OF  MY  IJFE—JOIiy  CHARLES  FREMOXT. 


\     I 


u  11 


dicated  a  considerable  rise  in  the  country — here  about  fourteen  hundred 
feet  above  the  sea — and  the  increased  elevation  appeared  already  to  have 
some  slight  influence  upon  the  vegetation.  The  night  was  cold,  with  a 
heavy  dew  ;  the  thermometer  at  10  r.M.  standing  at  46',  barometer  28. 483, 
Our  position  was  in  longitude  96'  14'  49",  and  latitude  39^  30'  40". 

The  morning  of  the  twentieth  was  fme,  with  a  southerly  breeze,  and  a 
bright  sky  ;  and  at  seven  o'clock  we  were  on  the  march.  The  country  to- 
day was  rather  more  broken,  rising  still,  and  covered  everywhere  with  fra^-- 
ments  of  siliceous  limestone,  particularly  on  the  summits,  where  they  wltu 
small,  and  thickly  strewed  as  pebbles  on  the  shore  of  the  sea.  In  these 
exposed  situations  grew  but  few  plants  ;  though  whenever  the  soil  was 
good  and  protected  from  the  winds,  in  the  creek  bottoms  and  ravines  and 
on  the  slopes,  they  flourished  abundantly  ;  among  them  the  amorpha  still 
retaining  its  characteristic  place.  We  crossed,  at  10  a.m.,  the  Big  Vermil- 
ion, which  has  a  rich  bottom  of  about  one  mile  in  breadth,  one-third  of 
which  is  occupied  by  timber.  Making  our  usual  halt  at  noon,  after  a  day's 
march  of  twenty-four  miles,  we  reached  the  Big  Blue,  and  encamped  on 
the  uplands  of  the  western  side,  near  a  small  creek,  where  was  a  fine  large 
spring  of  very  cold  water.  This  is  a  clear  and  handsome  stream,  about 
one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  wide,  running,  with  a  rapid  current,  through 
a  weil-timbered  valley.  To-day  antelope  were  seen  running  over  the  hills, 
and  at  evening  Carson  brought  us  a  fine  deer.  Longitude  of  the  camp  96 
32'  35",  latitude  39"  45' oS".  Thermometer  at  sunset  75'.  A  pleasant 
southerly  breeze  and  fine  morning  had  given  place  to  a  gale,  with  indica- 
tions of  bad  weather  ;  when,  after  a  march  of  ten  miles,  we  halted  to  noon 
on  a  small  creek,  where  the  v.ater  stood  in  deep  pools.  In  the  bank  of 
the  creek  limestone  made  its  appearance  in  a  stratum  about  one  foot  thick. 
In  the  afternoon,  the  people  seemed  to  suffer  for  want  of  water.  The  road 
led  along  a  high  dry  ridge  ;  dark  lines  of  timber  indicated  the  heads  of 
streiuns  in  the  i)lains  below;  but  there  was  no  water  near,  and  the  day 
was  very  oppressive,  with  a  hot  wind,  and  the  thermometer  at  90~-'.  .AlonLf 
our  route  the  amorpha  has  been  in  very  abimdant  but  variable  bloom-in 
some  places,  bending  beneath  the  weight  of  purple  clusters  ;  in  others, 
without  a  flower.  It  seems  to  love  best  the  sunny  slopes,  with  a  dark  soil 
and  southern  exposure.  Everywhere  the  rose  is  met  with,  and  reminds  us 
of  ..ultivated  gardens  and  civilization.  It  is  scattered  over  the  prairies  in 
small  hosijHcts,  and,  when  glittering  in  the  dews  and  waving  in  the  pleasant 
breeze  of  the  early  morning,  is  the  most  beautiful  of  the  prairie  flowers. 
The  artcviisia,  absinthe,  or  prairie  sage,  as  it  is  variously  called,  is  in- 
creasing in  siz<;,  and  glitters  like  silver,  as  the  southern  breeze  turns  np 
its  leaves  to  the  sun.  All  these  plants  have  their  insect  habitants,  vari- 
ously colored  ;  taking  generally  the  hue  of  the  flower  on  which  they  live. 


/■■/A'.sr  KXPF.DTTfOX     BOTAXrCAL  OI^SI'.RIW  TfOXS. 


Si 


The  arlcmisia  has  its  small  tly  accompaiiyiii.ij;'  it  tliroiigh  every  change  of 
elevaticii  and  latitude  ;  and  wherever  I  have  seen  the  Asclepias  tubcrosa,  I 
have  always  remarked,  too,  on  the  flower  a  large  butterfly,  so  nearly  re- 
sembling it  in  co!(M",  as  to  be  distinguishable  at  a  little  distance  only  by 
th^  motion  of  its  wings.  Travelling  on  the  fresh  traces  of  the  Oregon 
emigrants  relieves  a  little  the  loneliness  of  the  road ;  and  to-night,  after  a 
march  of  twenty-two  miles,  we  halted  on  a  small  creek  which  had  been  one 
of  their  encampments.  As  we  advance  westward,  the  soil  ap[jears  to  be 
"■etting  more  sandy,  and  the  surface-rock,  an  erratic  deposit  of  sand  and 
cfravel,  rests  here  on  a  bed  of  coarse  yellow  and  gray  and  \erv  friable 
sandstone.  Evening  closed  over  with  rain  and  its  usual  attendant,  hordes 
of  mosc|uitoes,  with  which  we  were  annoyed  for  the  first  time. 

June  22d. — We  enjoyed  at  breakfast  this  morning  a  luxury,  very  unu- 
sual in  this  country,  in  a  cup  of  excellent  coffee,  with  cream  from  our  cow. 
Being  milked  at  night,  cream  was  thus  hail  in  the  morning.  Our  mid-day 
halt  was  at  Wyeth's  Creek,  in  the  bed  of  which  were  numerous  boulders 
of  ilark  ferruginous  sandstone,  mingled  with  others  of  the  red  sandstone 
already  mentioned.  Here  a  pack  of  cards,  lying  loose  on  the  grass, 
marked  an  encampment  of  our  Oregon  emigrants  ;  and  it  was  at  the 
close  of  the  day  when  we  made  our  bivouac  in  the  midst  of  some  well- 
timbered  ravines  near  the  Little  Blue,  twenty-four  miles  from  our  camp 
of  the  preceding  night.  Crossing  the  next  morning  a  number  of  hand- 
some creeks,  with  clear  water  and  sandy  beds,  we  reached  at  lo  a.m.  a 
v(Ty  beautiful  wooded  stream,  about  thirty-five  feet  wide,  called  Sandy 
Creek,  and  sometimes,  as  th(>  Ottoes  frequently  winter  there,  the  Ottoe 
Fork.  The  country  has  become  very  sandy,  and  the  plant;:  less  varied 
aiul  abundant,  with  the  exception  of  the  amorpha,  which  rivals  the  grass 
in  quantity,  though  not  so  forward  as  it  has  been  found  to  the  east- 
ward. 

At  y\\(\  lUg  Trees,  where  we  liad  intended  to  noon,  no  water  was  to  be 
fuuml.  The  bed  of  the  little  creek  was  perfectly  dry,  and  on  the  adja- 
cent sandy  bottom  cacti,  for  the  first  time,  made  their  appearance.  We 
made  here  a  short  delay  in  search  of  water  ;  and,  after  a  hard  day's  march 
of  twenty-eight  miles,  encamped  at  \\\^  o'clock  on  the  Little  Blue,  where 
our  arrival  made  a  scene  of  the  Arabian  desert.  As  fast  as  they  arrived, 
men  and  horses  rushed  into  the  stream,  where  they  bathed  and  drank  to- 
gether in  common  enjoyment.  We  were  now  in  the  range  of  the  Paw- 
nees, who  were  accustomed  to  infest  this  part  of  the  country,  stealing 
horses  from  companies  on  their  way  to  the  mountains,  and,  when  in  suffi- 
cient force,  openly  attacking  and  plundering  them,  and  subjecting  them 
to  various  kinds  of  insult.  For  the  first  time,  therefore,  guard  was 
mounted  to-night.     Our  route  the  next  morning  lay  up  the  valley,  which, 


!  I      ill 


Ik 


H 


pi 


83 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  UFE—JOIfX  CJfARI.F.S  FR^AfOyT. 


k  li 


bordered  by  hills  with  graceful  slopes,  looked  uncommonly  green  and 
beautiful.  The  stream  was  about  fifty  feet  wide,  and  three  or  four  deep, 
fringed  by  cotton-wood  and  willow,  with  frequent  groves  of  oak  tenanted 
by  flocks  of  turkeys.  Game  here,  too,  made  its  appearance  in  greater 
plenty.  Elk  were  frequently  seen  on  the  hills,  and  now  and  then  an  an- 
telope bounded  across  our  path,  or  a  deer  broke  from  the  groves.  The 
road  in  the  afternoon  was  over  the  upper  prairies,  several  miles  from  the 
river,  and  we  encamped  at  sunset  on  one  of  its  small  tributaries,  where 
an  abundance  of  prcle  {equisciutM)  afforded  fine  forage  to  our  tired  ani- 
mals. We  had  travelled  thirty-one  miles.  A  heavy  bank  of  black  clouds 
in  the  west  came  on  us  in  a  storm  between  nine  and  ten,  preceded  by  a 
violent  wind.  The  rain  fell  in  such  torrents  that  it  was  difficult  to  breathe 
facing  the  wind,  the  thunder  rolled  incessantly,  and  the  whole  sky  was 
tremulous  with  lightning  ;  now  and  then  illuminated  by  a  blinding  flash, 
succeeded  by  pitchy  darkness.  Carson  had  the  watch  from  ten  to  mid- 
night, and  to  him  had  been  assigned  our  young  compagnotis  de  voyage 
Messrs.  Brant  and  R.  Benton.  This  was  their  first  night  on  guard,  and 
such  an  introduction  did  not  augur  very  auspiciously  of  the  pleasures  of 
the  expedition.  Many  things  conspired  to  render  their  situation  uncom- 
fortable ;  stories  of  desperate  and  bloody  Indian  fights  were  rife  in  the 
camp  ;  our  position  was  badly  chosen,  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  tim- 
bered hollows,  and  occupying  an  area  of  several  hundred  feet,  so  that  ne- 
cessarily the  guards  were  far  apart ;  and  now  and  then  I  could  hear  Ran- 
dolph, as  if  relieved  by  the  sound  of  a  voice  in  the  darkness,  calling  out  to 
the  sergeant  of  the  guard  to  direct  his  attention  to  some  imaginary  alarm: 
but  they  stood  it  out,  and  took  their  turn  regularly  afterward. 

The  next  morning  we  had  a  specimen  of  the  false  alarms  to  which  all 
parties  in  these  wild  regions  are  subject.  Pioceeding  up  the  valley,  ob- 
jects were  seen  on  the  opposite  hills,  wiiich  disappeared  before  a  glass 
could  be  brought  to  bear  upon  them.  A  man  who  was  a  short  distance 
in  the  rear  cam"  spurring'  up  in  great  haste,  shouting,  "Indians  !  Indians!" 
He  had  been  neat  enough  to  see  and  count  them,  according  to  his  report, 
and  had  made  out  twenty-seven.  I  immediat(;ly  halted,  arms  were  ex- 
amined and  put  in  order  ;  the  usual  pre|Kxralions  made  ;  and  Kit  Carson, 
springing  upon  one  of  the  hunting  horses,  crossed  the  river,  and  galloi)ed 
oft'  into  the  opposite  prairies,  to  obtain  some  certain  intelligence  of  their 
movements. 

Mounted  on  a  fine  horse,  without  a  saddle,  and  scouring  bareheaded 
over  the  prairies,  Kit  was  one  of  the  finest  pictures  of  a  horseman  I  have 
ever  seen.  A  short  time  enabled  him  to  discover  that  the  Indian  war 
party  of  twenty-seven  consisted  of  six  elk,  which  had  been  gazing  curiously 
at  our  caravan  as  it  passed  by,  and  were  now  scampering  off  at  full  speed, 


FIRST  EXPED ITION—fA I.SF.  ALAJiAf. 


83 


and 
leep, 
,nted 
eater 
11  aii- 

The 
n  the 
I'here 
[  ani- 
louds 

by  a 
•eathe 
y  was 

flash, 
»  mid- 
voyagc 
d,  and 
ires  ot 
incom- 
in  the 
ly  tim- 
lat  ne- 
r  Ran- 

out  to 
lalarm ; 

iich  all 

;y,  ob- 

glass 

listance 
lians ! " 
[report. 
:re  cx- 
:  arson, 
hllopcJ 
if  their 

lieaded 
1 1  have 

in  \v;n- 
Iriously 
I  speed. 


This  was  our  first  alarm,  and  its  excitement  broke  agreeably  on  the  mo- 
notony of  the  day.  At  our  noon  halt,  the  men  were  exercised  at  a  target ; 
and  in  the  evening  we  pitched  our  tents  at  a  Pawnee  encampment  of  last 
July.  They  had  apparently  killed  buffalo  here,  as  many  bones  were  lying 
about,  and  the  frames  wdiere  the  hides  had  been  stretched  were  yet  stand- 
iiv.  The  road  of  the  day  had  kept  the  valley,  which  is  sometimes  rich  and 
well  umbered,  though  the  country  is  generally  sandy.  Mingled  with  the 
usual  plants,  a  thistle  (  Canhtiis  leucdgraphits)  had  for  the  last  day  or  two 
made  its  appearance  ;  and  along  the  river  bottom,  iradcscattiia  virginica 
and  milk  plant  {Asclcpias  syriaca  *),  in  considerable  quantities. 

Our  march  to-da)'  had  been  twenty-one  miles,  and  the  astronomical  ob- 
servations gave  us  a  chronometric  longitude  of  98"  22'  12",  and  latitude 
40  26'  50".  We  were  moving  forward  at  seven  in  the  morning,  and  in 
about  five  miles  reached  a  fork  of  the  Blue,  where  the  road  leaves  that 
river,  and  crosses  over  to  the  Platte.  No  water  was  to  be  found  on  the 
dividing  ridge,  and  the  casks  were  filled,  and  the  animals  here  allowed  a 
short  repose.  The  road  led  across  a  high  and  level  prairie  ridge,  where 
were  but  few  plants,  and  those  principally  thistle  {Caidtius  leiicographtis), 
and  a  kind  of  dwarf  artemisia.  Antelope  were  seen  frequently  during  the 
morning,  which  was  very  stormy.  Squalls  of  rain,  with  thunder  and  light- 
mv^,  were  around  us  in  every  direction ;  and  while  we  were  enveloped 
in  one  of  them,  a  flash,  which  seemed  to  scorch  our  eyes  as  it  passed,  struck 
in  the  prairie  within  a  few  hundred  feet,  sending  up  a  column  of  dust. 

Crossing  on  the  way  several  Pawnee  roads  to  the  Arkansas,  we  reached, 
in  about  twenty-one  miles  from  our  halt  on  the  Blue,  wdiat  is  called  the  coast 
of  the  Nebraska,  or  Platte,  Ri\-er,  This  had  seemed  in  the  distance  a  range 
of  lii^jh  and  broken  hills  ;  but  on  a  nearer  approach  were  found  to  be  ele- 
vations of  forty  to  sixty  feet,  into  which  the  wind  had  worked  the  sand. 
They  were  covered  with  the  usual  fine  grasses  of  the  country,  and  bor- 
dered the  eastern  side  of  the  ridire  on  a  breadth  of  about  two  miles. 
Change  of  soil  and  country  appeared  here  to  have  produced  some  change 
in  the  vegetation.  Cacti  were  numerous,  and  all  the  plants  of  the  region 
a[)|)eared  to  flourish  among  the  warm  hills.  Among  them  the  amorplia, 
in  mil  bloom,  was  remarkable  for  its  large  and  luxuriant  purple  clusters. 
Irom  the  foot  of  the  coast,  a  distance  of  two  miles  across  the  level  bottom 
I'vought  us  to  our  encampment  on  the  shore  of  the  river,  about  twenty 

*  "This  plant  is  very  otloilfoioiis,  .iiul  in  Canada  charms  the  traveller,  espeeiall;.'  when  p. losing 
tM.iijli  woods  in  tlie  evening.  The  [•"rcnch  there  eat  the  lender  shoots  in  tlie  spring,  as  we  do  as- 
li.nrngus.  'I'lie  natives  make  a  sugar  of  the  flowers,  galherine  them  in  the  morning  when  lhe\  are 
rmcrcd  with  dew,  and  collect  the  cotton  from  the  pods  to  till  their  beds.  On  account  of  the  sdki- 
11' >s  of  thi^  cotton,  l^arkinson  calls  the  plant  Virginian  silk." — Loudon's  E/iif\/o/>i;fi\i  o/'  t'htnls. 

Ilic  Siniix  Indians  of  the  Upper  Platte  eai  the  young  pods  of  this  plant,  boiling  them  wilh  the 
iiii.it  of  the  buffalo. 


!    I 


;i 


..t 


84 


Af/iMO/RS  OF  MY  l.l FF.—JOIl X  CIiARF.RS  FRi'-MOXF. 


miles  below  tiu;  lic.ul  of  Grand  IsUukI,  which  lay  cxlciulcd  h'.itbrc  ii^,  c()\ . 
crcil  with  (Ilmisi;  and  heavy  woods.  I'Voiii  tlie  nuuith  of  the  '.aiisas,  n, - 
cordinnr  to  our  reckoning-,  we  had  travelled  three  hundred  and  twenty-(i:^hi 
miles  ;  and  the  theological  formation  of  the  country  we  had  passeil  over 
consisted  of  lime  and  sandstone,  covered  by  the  same  erratic  deposit  ut' 
sand  and  gravel  which  lornis  the  suriace  rock  ot  the  prairies  between  thr 
Missouri  ami  .Mississippi  Rivers.  Mxcept  in  st)me  occasional  limestone 
boulders,  1  had  met  with  no  fossils.  The  elevation  of  the  Platte  \'a!](M, 
above  the  sea  is  here  about  two  thousaml  feet.  The  astronomical  ()i),(:i- 
vations  of  th('  night  placed  us  in  longitude  9S    45'  49",  latitude  40    41'  uo, 

j'ltiic  2~lli.  -The  animals  were  somewhat  fatiguetl])y  their  march  ofyi^ 
terday,  and,  after  a  short  journey  of  eighteen  miles  along  the  river-bottom, 
I  encamjjed  near  the  head  of  Grand  Island,  in  longitude,  l)y  observation, 
99'  05'  24",  latitude  40  39'  32".  The  soil  here  was  light  but  rich,  thou<(h 
in  some  places  rather  !;and\-  ;  and,  with  the  exception  of  a  scattered  triii;^(: 
along  the  bank,  the  timber,  consisting  principally  of  poplar  (popiiitts  iiioni- 
lifcra),  elm,  and  hackberry  {ccl/is  i-rass/'/o/ia),  is  confined  almost  entirciv 
to  the  islands. 

jittic  2S//i. — We  halted  to  noon  at  an  open  reach  of  tht;  river,  wiiici; 
occupies  rather  more  than  a  fourth  of  tlie  valley,  here  only  about  ft)ur  iiiilc^ 
broad.  The  camp  had  been  disposed  with  the  usual  [jrecautioii,  lln: 
horses  grazing-  at  a  little  distance  attended  by  the  guard,  and  we  wen;  a. 
sitting  (piietly  at  our   dinner  oi-i    the  grass,  when    suddenly  we   heard  th 


starll 


uig  cr\- 


</n 


momii 


ic 


In  an  instant  t;\-(n-\-  man's   weapon   was  i; 


his  hand,  the  horses  wen;   driven 


m,  liooljled 


an 


were  crallopm 


."n 


Ik 


V 


at  full 


d  picketed,  and  liors 


ciiK-;- 


speetl  m  tlie  direction  ol  the  new-come'rs,  screaniiii 


th 


anc 


1   yelling-   with    the;    wildest  excitement.      "Ciet    reatly,  my  lads!"  s;i 


the  leader   of  the  approaching  part\-  to 


his    men,  when   our   wild-lookiii:; 


lorsef-i-icn  were  chscoveretl  beariiV'-  down  upon 


th 


em 


A 


llo 


OliS  IJI/OHS  i! 


! //>■:!■ 


per  dcS  coups  i/t'     ih!i^HC//C 

under  the  charije  ot  a 


Tlu'y  prov(;d  to  be  a  small  party  ot  tou 


man  named 


J 


ohn 


1. 


and 


rtcc! 


w-ith  their  bati'gas'-e  aii' 


provisions  strapped  to  their  backs,  were   m 


Ldvintj-  their  wa\'  on  foot  to  th' 


fronti 


er. 


A  bri 


iccount  of  tluiir  I'ortunes  will  trive  somt;  idea  of  navi;. 


tion  in  the  Xebra^ 


fork. 


amu;  s 
furs  of  thi 
and,  ^h\.- 


•'^me 


th 


.Sixt)-  days   since,  they  hatl  let't  tin 
•d 


mou 


th 


(A  bar 


iree   lumdreU    miles   al)ove,  in   liar^res   laden   wi 


th  thv 


an  l*"ur  Company.     They  started  with  the  annual  lli 


it   nine   inches   water,  hopi 


d  t 


o  m 


ak( 


a  s 


peedy 


anil  i)n>- 


)'.'rous  \' 


selves 


onb 


on- 


;-)i    Louis;  but,  altera  la[)se  of  torty  days,  louiul 
hundn-  1  and  thirty  mih.'s   from  their   ])oint  of  depart 


i\V'\\\- 


lirr, 


!(■•; 


They  came  down   raiiidly  as  far  as  Scot;'s  LiutTs,   where  their  tlifhcult: 
began.      .Sometimes  they  came  u[)on  places  where  the  water  was  sprca^ 


over  a  great  extent,  and  here  they  toiled  from  morning  until   ni 


dlt,  CM!- 


r,  wilier, 
)iir  niile- 
Lion,  ill'- 

eard  ih' 

was  v: 

i:rcamin^ 

!  "  sail'. 

-lookin^' 

//;(■ 


\//S  (' 


ItburU'iJii. 

a;4(!  lUHi 

ht  U)  th' 


r 


nuvi'j 


w-iih  t!v 


luu 


im 


a  i! 


jariurc. 


itticu 


Itic- 


CHEYENNE   liHAVE, 


1 


iirea: 


lii-ht,  ^t 


■f  yt 


:   !!t 
ill 


!  Iijl 


i  ) 


'~i; 


!  :l 


I 


real  i-, 

1,, 


/■■/A'.V  /•  EXP  EDI  TIOX-ri.A  TTE  VA  f.LK ) ; 


8S 


dcavoring  to  drag  their  boat  through  the  sands,  making  only  two  or  three 
miles  in  as  many  days.  Sometimes  they  would  enter  an  arm  of  the  river, 
uhcrc  there  appeared  a  fine  channel,  and,  after  descending  prosperously 
for  ei'^dit  or  ten  miles,  would  come  suddenly  upon  dry  sands,  and  be  com- 
pt'lled  to  return,  dragging  their  boat  for  days  against  the  rapid  current  ; 
and  at  others  they  came  upon  places  where  the  water  lay  in  holes,  and, 
.  etling  out  to  lloaL  off  t!u;ir  boat,  would  fall  into  water  up  to  their  necks, 
and  the  next  moment  tumble  over  against  a  saml-bar.  Discouraged  at 
length,  and  finding  the  Platte  growing  every  day  more  shallow,  they  dis- 
char""ed  the  principal  part  of  their  cargoes  one  hundred  and  thirty  miles 
helow  Fort  Laramie,  which  they  secured  as  well  as  possible,  and,  leaving 
a  i^zw  men  to  guard  them,  attempted  to  continue  their  voyage,  laden  with 
some  light  fiu's  and  their  personal  baggage.  After  fifteen  or  twenty  days 
mure  struggling  in  the  sands,  during  which  they  made  but  one  hundred 
anil  fortv  miles,  they  sunk  th(;ir  barges,  made  a  cache  of  their  rtMiiaining 
furs  and  property  in  trec^s  on  the  bank,  and,  p.icking  on  his  back  what 
each  man  could  carry,  had  commenced,  the  ilay  before  we  encountered 
them,  their  journey  on  foot  to  St.  Louis. 

We  laughed  then  at  their  forlorn  and  vagabond  ap[)earance,  and  in  our 
larn,  a  month  or  two  alterward,  furnished  the  same  occasion  for  merri- 
ment to  others.  Even  their  stock  of  tobacco,  that  shtc  (jua  non  of  a  voy- 
ageur,  without  which  the  night-fire  is  gloomy,  was  entirely  e.xhausted. 
However,  we  shortened  their  homeward  journey  by  a  small  supply  from 
our  own  provision.  They  gave  us  the  welcome  intelligence  that  the 
buffalo  were  abundant  some  two  days'  march  in  advance,  and  made  us  a 
jirc'SL'iU  of  some  choice  pieces,  which  were  a  \ery  acceptable  change  from 
luir  s.alt  pork.  In  the  interchange  of  news  and  the  renewal  of  old  .ic- 
i|i:ainianceships  we  found  wherewithal  to  fill  a  busy  hour ;  then  we 
mounted  our  horses,  and  they  shouldered  their  packs,  and  we  shook 
hands  and  parted.  .Among  them  I  had  found  an  old  companion  on  the 
!i(irthi  rn  wrairie,  a  hardened  and  hardly  served  veteran  of  the  mountains, 
who  had  been  as  much  hacked  and  scarred  as  an  old  nioustacJie  of  Napo- 
li'on's  ••  (f)iil  Guard."  He  flourished  in  the  soubricjuet  of  La  Tulipe,  and  his 
real  n.ip.ie  I  never  knew.  iMiiding  that  he  was  going  to  the  .States  only 
liccause  his  company  was  bound  in  that  direction,  ami  that  he  was  rather 
more  willing  to  return  with  me,  I  took  him  again  into  my  service.  We 
travelled  this  day  but  seventeen  miles. 

;\t  our  evening  camp,  about  sunset,  three  figures  were  discovered  ap- 
iiroaching,  which  our  glasses  made  out  to  be  Indians.  They  proved  to 
he  Cheyennes — two  men  and  a  boy  of  thirteen.  About  a  month  since, 
they  had  left  their  people  on  the  south  fork  of  the  river,  some  three  hun- 
ured  miles  to  the  westward,  and,  a  party  of  only  four  in  number,  had  been 


n ' 


1 1 
1 


I      !■ 


'!•■ 


;»): 


i   ■ 


86 


.)//<:. uo / A' s  OF  .)/)'  /.//•/■:—/()//. V  cifARi.i:s  i-re.moxt. 


to  the  Pawnee  villages  on  a  horse-stealing  excursion,  from  which  they 
were  returning  unsuccessful.  They  were  miserably  mounted  on  wild 
horses  from  the  Arkansas  plains,  and  had  no  other  weapons  than  bows 
and  long  spears  ;  and  had  they  been  discovered  by  the  Pawnees,  could 
not,  by  any  possibility,  have  escaped.  They  were  mortified  by  their  ill 
success,  and  said  the  Pawnees  w(.'re  cowards  who  shut  u[)  their  horses  in 
their  lodges  at  night.  I  invited  them  to  supper  with  me,  and  Randolph 
and  the  young  Cheyenne,  who  had  been  eying  each  other  suspiciously 
and  curiously,  soon  became  intimate  friends.  ,\fter  supper  we  sat  down 
on  the  grass,  ami  I  placed  a  sheet  of  paper  between  us,  on  which  they 
traced  rudely,  but  with  a  certain  ilegree  of  relative  truth,  the  water-courses 
of  the  country  which  lay  between  us  and  their  villages,  and  of  which  I 
desired  to  have  some  information.  Their  companions,  they  told  us,  had 
taken  a  nearer  route  over  the  hills  ;  but  they  had  mounted  one  of  tht; 
summits  to  spy  out  the  country,  whence  they  had  caught  a  glimpse  of 
our  party,  and,  confident  of  good  treatment  at  the  hands  of  the  whites, 
hastened  to  join  company.      Latitude  of  the  camp,  40'  39'  51". 

We  made  the  next  morning  sixteen  miles.  I  remarked  that  the  ground 
was  covered  in  many  places  with  an  efflorescence  of  salt,  and  the  plants 
were  not  numerous.  In  the  bottoms  was  frequently  seen  tradescantia, 
and  on  the  dry  benches  were  carduiis,  cactus,  and  aniorpha.  A  high  wind 
during  the  morning  had  increased  to  a  violent  gale  from  the  northwest, 
which  made  our  afternoon  ride  cold  and  unpleasant.  We  had  the  wel- 
come sight  of  two  buffaloes  on  one  of  the  large  islands,  and  encampeil  at 
a  clump  of  timber  about  seven  miles  from  our  noon  halt,  after  a  day  s 
march  of  twenty-two  miles. 

The  air  was  keen  the  next  morning  at  sunrise,  the  thermometer  stand- 
ing at  44,  and  it  was  sufficiently  cold  to  make  overcoats  very  comfortable. 
A  few  miles  brought  us  into  the  midst  of  the  buffalo,  swarming  in  im- 
mense numbers  over  the  plains,  where  they  had  left  scarcely  a  blade  of 
grass  standing.  Mr.  Preuss,  who  was  sketching  at  a  little  distance  in  the 
rear,  had  at  first  noted  them  as  large  groves  of  timber.  In  the  sight  ot 
such  a  mass  of  life,  the  traveller  feels  a  strange  emotion  of  grandeur. 
We  had  heard  from  a  distance  a  dull  and  confused  murmurinir,  and 
when  we  came  in  view  of  their  dark  masses  there  was  not  one  amoiiL; 
us  who  did  not  feel  his  heart  beat  quicker.  It  was  the  early  part  of  the 
day,  when  the  herds  are  feeding  ;  and  everywhere  they  were  in  motion. 
Here  and  there  a  huge  old  bull  was  rolling  in  the  grass,  and  clouds  ol 
dust  rose  in  the  air  from  various  parts  of  the  bands,  each  the  scene 
of  some  obstinate  fight.  Indians  and  buffalo  make  the  poetry  and  lilc 
of  the  prairie,  and  our  camp  was  fiill  of  their  exhilaration.  In  place  of  the 
quiet  monotony  of  the  march,  relieved  only  by  the  cracking  of  the  whip, 


FIRST  EXPEDITIOX—THE  CHASE. 


«7 


aiul  an  '  avancc  done!  enfant  dc  t^arccl  "  shouts  and  sorifjs  resoundcil 
fruin  cr*!!')' part  of  the  line,  and  our  cvenin<;j  camp  was  always  the  coni- 
niLiiceincnt  of  a  h-ast  which  terminated  only  witli  our  departure  on  the 
lollowiiiLj  m()rnin_L,^  At  any  time  of  the  niy-ht  mii^dit  be  seen  pieces  of  the 
must  delicate  and  choicest  meat,  roastin;:,''  en  appo/as,  on  sticks  arouml 
tiic  lire,  and  the  i^uiard  were  never  without  company.  With  pleasant 
weather  An^A  no  enemy  to  fear,  an  abundance  of  the  most  excellent  meat, 
ami  IK)  scarcity  of  brt;ad  or  tobacco,  they  were  enjoyin;^''  the  oasis  of  a 
\oyaL,n;ur's  life.  i'hree  cows  w<;re  killed  to-tlay.  Kit  Carson  had  shot 
0111',  and  was  continuing  the  chase  in  the  miilst  of  another  herd,  wIkmi  his 
horse  fell  headlong,  but  sprang  u[)  antl  joined  the  flying  band.  Though 
ciinsiderably  hurt,  lie  had  the  good  fortune  to  break  no  bones  ;  and  Max- 
well, who  was  mounted  on  a  fleet  hunter,  captured  the  runaway  after  a 
hard  chase,  lie  was  on  the  point  of  shooting  him,  to  avoid  the  loss  of 
Ills  bridle- (a  handsomely  mounted  Spanish  one ),  when  he  found  that  his 
horse  was  able  to  come  up  with  him.  .Animals  are  frequently  lost  in  this 
wav  ;  and  it  is  necessary  to  keep  close  watch  over  them  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  buffalo,  in  the  midst  of  which  the\-  scour  off  to  the  plains  and  are 
rarely  retaken.  One  of  our  mules  took  a  sudden  freak  into  his  head,  and 
joined  a  neighboring  band  to-day.  As  we  were  not  in  a  condition  to  lose 
horses,  I  sent  several  men  in  pursuit,  and  remained  in  camp,  in  the  hope 
of  recovering  him;  but  lost  the  afternoon  to  no  purpose,  as  we  did  not 
sec  him  again.  .Astronomical  observations  placed  us  in  longitude  lOo'  05' 
47  ,  hiutude  40    49'  55". 

'Jii/y  1st.  —Along  our  road  to-day  the  prairie-bottom  was  more  elevated 
and  dry,  and  the  hills  which  border  the  right  side  of  the  river  higher  and 
more  broken  and  picturesque  in  the  outline.  The  country,  too,  was  better 
timhered.  As  we  were  riding  quietly  along  the  bank  a  grand  herd  of 
hiitVald,  some  seven  or  eight  hundred  in  number,  came  crowding  up  from 
thi:  river,  where  they  had  been  to  drink,  and  commenced  crossing  the 
plain  sK)\vIy.  eating  as  they  went.  The  wind  was  favorable  ;  the  coolness 
of  the  morning  invited  to  exercise  ;  the  ground  was  apparently  good,  and 
the  distance  across  the  prairie  (two  or  three  miles)  gave  us  a  fine  oppor- 
tunity to  charge  them  before  they  could  get  among  the  river-hills.  It  was 
too  fun;  a  prospect  for  a  chase  to  be  lost  ;  and,  halting  for  a  few  moments, 
tile  hunters  were  brought  up  and  saddled,  and  Kit  Carson,  Maxwell,  and 
I  started  together.  They  were  now  somewhat  less  than  half  a  mile  dis- 
tant, and  we  rode  easily  along  until  within  about  three  hundred  yards,  when 
a  sidden  agitation,  a  wavering  in  the  band,  and  a  galloping  to  and  fro  of 
some  which  were  scattered  along  the  skirts,  gave  us  the  intimation  that 
we  were  discovered.  We  started  together  at  a  hand-gallop,  riding  stead- 
ily abreast  of  each  other,  and  here  the  interest  of  the  chase  became  so  en- 


I'    I 


<l 

,    I 


lii  If 


!       H 


ll 


h 


88 


m/:m()/us  or  my  /.///: -jo/zx  (V/./av.a.v  i-kemox r. 


^frossinjj;ly  intensi;  that  we  were  sensible  to  notliiiiL,^  else.  W'l'  were  now 
closiiiL;-  upon  them  rapidly,  and  the  front  ot"  tiie  niass  was  already  in  rapid 
motion  for  the  hills,  ami  in  a  few  seconds  the  movement  luul  eomnumicaled 
itself  to  the  whole:  herd. 

A  crowd  of  bnlls,  as  usual,  broui^'ht  \\\>  th(i  rear,  and  every  now  .'uid 
then  sonn!  of  them  faced  about,  and  then  dashed  on  after  the  baml  a  short 
distance,  and  turned  and  looked  as^ain,  as  if  more  than  half  inclined  to  stand 
and  fii^dit.  In  a  fi:w  momc:nts,  however,  dnrinLf  which  we  had  becMi  quick- 
<  nint;  our  pace,  the  rout  was  univ(jrsal,  and  we  were  .^oins^'  oxer  ilic 
iM'ound  like  a  hurricane.  W'lu-n  at  about  thirty  yards,  we  .L;a\e  the  usual 
fliout  (the  hunter's /vi'.v  ^/(w//(?;;i,'v)  and  broki'  into  the  herd.  We  (mlcrcd 
on  the  side,  the  mass  yivin*^  way  in  excry  direction  in  liicir  heedless 
conrs(\  Many  of  the  bulls,  less  active  and  less  lleet  than  the  cows,  pay- 
in^^  no  attention  to  the  i^round,  and  occui)ied  solely  with  the  hunter,  wen; 
prei:ipitated  to  tiie  earth  with  ;^e,-(jat  force,  rolling''  o\er  and  over  with  \\v 
violence!  of  the  shock,  and  hardl\-  distinguishable  in  the  dust.  We  sepa- 
rated on  entering,',  each  sini^IiiiL,''  out  his  _<:,'-am<;. 

My  horse  was  a  trained  himter,  famous  in  tlu'  West  under  the  name  nf 
l'ro\(:au,  and,  >,,iu\  his  eyes  Ihishiny  and  the  foam  llyin^r  from  his  mouth, 
spraniL,''  on  after  llie  cow  like  a  tii^er.  In  a  ft;w  moments  he  brous^du  mc 
alon_L,^side  of  her,  and,  risin<,r  in  the  stirrups,  I  tired  at  the  distance;  of  a 
yard,  the  ball  enterino-  at  the;  t(;rmination  of  the  lom^jf  hair,  and  passini>-  near 
the  heart.  .She  iell  headlong''  at  the  re|)ort  of  the  .il^^uu,  and  checkin;;'  niv 
horse,  I  looked  around  for  my  companions.  At  a  little  distance  Kit  was 
on  the'  e^round,  e-n;jfaj,''ed  in  Wwv^  his  horse  to  the  lujrns  of  a  cow  whicli  Ivj 
was  pre[xirin^'  to  cut  u[).  .\mon,<4'  the  scattered  bands,  at  some  disr.mrc 
below,  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  Maxwell  :  and  while  I  was  looking  a  li:;Iu 
wreath  of  white  smoke  curled  away  from  his  gun,  from  which  I  was  too 
far  to  hear  the  ri;port.  Nearer,  and  between  me  and  the  hills  towir.l 
which  they  were  directing  their  course,  was  the  body  of  the  herd,  and  ;nv- 
i'lg  my  horse  the  rein  we  dashed  after  them.  A  thick  cloud  of  vluu  luiii;^' 
upon  their  rear,  which  filled  my  mouth  antl  eyes  and  nearly  s-aothercd 
me.  In  the  midst  of  this  I  could  see  nothing,  and  the  buiV.ilo  were  net 
distinguishable  until  within  thirt\-  feet.  They  crowded  togetIu;r  mo:' 
densely  still  as  1  came  upon  them,  and  rushed  along  in  such  a  compact 
botly  that  I  could  not  obtain  an  entrance — tin;  horse  almost  leaping  upon 
them.  In  a  few  moments  the  mass  divided  to  the  right  and  left,  the  hori'o 
clattering  with  a  noise  lieard  abo\-e  everything  else,  and  my  horse  darted 
into  the  opening.  Five  or  six  bulls  charged  on  us  as  we  clashed  along  tlii' 
line,  but  were  left  fir  behind  ;  and,  singling  out  a  cow,  I  gave  her  my  tire 
but  struck  too  high.  She  gave  a  tremend(jus  leap,  and  scoured  on  swiltcr 
than  before.     I  reined  up  my  horse,  and  the  band  swept  on  like  a  torrent, 


f^ 


■I       % 


low 


lU'd 


hort 
lick- 

thc 


isu;u 


cruii 


p:iy- 
wen: 
,1  tlv 


nc  oi 


lontli, 
In  me 
c  of  a 
^  near 

V;-    IViV 

it  was 
^taiu'c 

100 

owaril 
v.l  :;iv- 
(  ranv;' 

vc  n»i: 
mor: 
)niiia>t 


<■  up 


lartcO 


ny 


iiri' 
iftL-r 


.orrcni 


'T^■•'      1 


I 


h 

IK 

hi 

al( 
en 
Isl 
\-a: 
nai 
car 
lea' 
(lua 
thai 
but, 
wer 
\\  cr< 
iluri 
sittii 
to  fa 

the  1 

cal  p 

eiuly 

slope 

princi 

and  i; 

in  <^ei 

incnt 

'la)-.s, 

proljai 

ccssar 

ternoo 

rcctly 

u-ere  s 

and  thi 

and  iiii 

liaving- 

ac('|)ti 

in  whic 

that  it  1 

The 


FIRST  EXPEDJTIOX—rilR  CHASE. 


89 


leavinq'  the  place  quiet  and  clear.  Our  chase  had  led  us  into  dangerous 
.rrouni-i.  A  prairie-dog  village,  so  thickly  settled  that  there  were  three  or 
four  holes  in  every  twenty  yards  square,  occupied  the  whole  bottom  for 
ncarlv  two  miles  in  length.  Looking  around,  I  saw  only  one  of  the 
hunters,  nearly  out  of  sight,  and  th:^  long  dark  line  of  our  caravan  crawling 
aIonL(,  three  or  four  miles  distant.  After  a  march  of  twenty-four  miles,  we 
encamped  at  nightfall  one  mile  and  a  half  above  the  lower  end  of  Brady's 
Island.  The  breadth  of  this  arm  of  the  river  was  eight  hundred  and  eighty 
yards,  and  the  water  nowhere  two  feet  in  depth.  The  island  bears  the 
name  of  a  man  killed  on  this  spot  some  years  ago.  His  party  had  en- 
camped here,  three  in  company,  and  one  of  the  number  went  off  to  hunt, 
leaving  Brady  and  his  companion  together.  These  two  had  frequently 
([uarrelled,  and  on  the  hunter's  return  he  found  Brady  dead,  and  was  told 
that  he  had  shot  himself  accidentally.  He  was  buried  here  on  the  bank  ; 
but,  as  usual,  the  wolves  had  torn  him  out,  and  some  human  bones  that 
were  lying  on  the  ground  we  su|)posed  were  his.  Troops  of  wolves  that 
were  hanging  on  the  skirts  of  the  buffalo  kept  un  an  uninterrupted  howling 
during  the  night,  venturing  almost  into  camp.  In  the  morning  they  were 
sitting  at  a  short  distance,  barking,  and  impatiently  waiting  our  departure 
to  fall  upon  the  ))ones. 

July  2(^/.—  The  morning  was  cool  and  smoky.  Our  road  led  closer  to 
the  hills,  which  here  increased  in  elevation,  presenting  an  outline  of  coni- 
cal peaks  three  hundred  to  five  hundred  feet  high.  Some  timber,  appar- 
ently pine,  grow  in  the  ravines,  and  streaks  of  clay  or  sand  whiten  their 
slopes.  We  crossed  during  the  morning  a  number  of  hollows,  timbered 
principally  with  box  elder  (accr  ncguiido),  poplar,  and  elm.  Brady's  Isl- 
and is  well  wooded,  and  all  the  river  along  which  our  road  led  to-day  may, 
in  i^eiieral,  be  called  tolerably  well  timbered.  Wc  passed  near  an  encamp- 
ment of  the  Oregon  emigrants,  where  they  appear  to  liave  r..posed  several 
days.  A  variety  of  household  articles  were  'Scattered  about,  and  they  had 
probably  disburdened  themselves  here  of  many  things  not  absolutely  ne- 
cessar\-.  1  had  left  the  usual  road  before  the  mid-cay  halt,  and  in  the  af- 
ternoon, having  sent  several  men  in  advanc(2  to  reconnoitre,  marched  di- 
rectly for  the  mouth  of  the  South  l''ork.  On  our  arrival,  the  horsemen 
were  sent  in  and  scattered  about  the  river  to  search  the  best  fording-places, 
and  the  carts  followed  inmiediately.  ''"1  e  stream  is  here  divided  by  an  isl- 
.^.nd  into  two  channels.  The  southei,  is  four  humlred  and  fifty  feet  wide, 
having  eighteen  or  twenty  inches  water  in  the  deepest  places.  With  the 
exception  of  a  few  tlry  bars,  the  hvx\  of  the  river  is  generally  quicksant's, 
in  which  the  carts  began  to  sink  rapidly  so  soon  as  the  mules  halted,  so 
that  it  was  necessary  to  keep  them  constantly  in  motion. 

The  northern  channel,  two  thousand  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet  wide, 


f  f  7 


:[■:,: 


90 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRflMONT. 


was  somewhat  deeper,  having  frequently  three  feet  of  water  in  the  numer- 
ous small  channels,  with  a  bed  of  coarse  gravel.  The  whole  breadtH  of 
the  Nebraska,  immediately  below  the  junction,  is  five  thousand  three  hun- 
dred and  fifty  feet.  All  our  equipage  had  reached  the  left  bank  safely  at 
six  o'clock,  having  to-day  made  twenty  miles.  We  encamped  at  the  point 
of  land  immediately  at  the  junction  of  the  North  and  South  Forks.  Be- 
tween the  streams  is  a  low  rich  prairie,  extending  from  their  confluence 
eighteen  miles  westwardly  to  the  bordering  hills,  where  it  is  five  and  a 
half  miles  wide.  It  is  covered  with  a  luxuriant  growth  of  grass,  and  alony; 
the  banks  is  a  slight  and  scattered  fringe  of  cottonwood  and  willow.  In 
the  buffalo  trails  and  wallows  I  remarked  saline  efllorescences,  to  which 
a  rapid  evaporation  in  the  great  heat  of  the  sun  probably  contributes,  as 
the  soil  is  entirely  unprotected  by  timber.  In  the  vicinity  of  these  places 
there  was  a  bluish  grass,  which  the  cattle  refuse  to  eat,  called  by  the  voya- 
geurs  "  herbe  sa/ee"  (salt  grass).  The  latitude  of  the  junction  is  40  04 
47",  and  longitude,  by  chronometer  and  lunar  distances,  100"  49'  43", 
The  elevation  above  the  sea  is  about  two  thousand  seven  hundred  feet. 
The  hunters  came  in  with  a  fat  cow  ;  and,  as  we  had  labored  hard,  we  en- 
joyed well  a  supper  of  roasted  ribs  and  houdins,  the  clicf  d'a-uvre  of  a 
prairie-cook.  Mosquitoes  thronged  about  us  this  evening ;  but,  by  ten 
o'clock,  when  the  thermometer  had  fallen  to  47°,  they  had  all  disappeared. 

yuly  T,d. — -As  this  w^1s  to  be  a  point  in  our  homeward  journey,  I  made 
a  cache  (a  term  used  in  all  this  country  for  what  is  hidden  in  the  ground) 
of  a  barrel  of  pork.  It  was  impossible  to  conceal  such  a  proceeding  from 
the  sharp  eyes  of  our  Cheyenne  companions,  ^nd  I  therefore  told  them  to 
go  and  see  what  it  was  they  were  burying.  1  ley  would  otherwise  have 
not  failed  to  return  and  destroy  our  cache,  in  expectation  of  some  rich 
booty ;  but  pork  they  dislike,  and  never  eat.  We  left  our  camp  at  nine, 
continuing  up  the  South  Fork,  the  prairie-bottom  affording  us  a  fair  road; 
but  in  the  long  grass  we  roused  myriads  of  mosquitoes  and  flies,  from  which 
our  horses  suffered  severely.  The  day  was  smoky,  with  a  pleasant  breeze 
from  the  south,  and  the  plains  on  the  opposite  side  were  covered  with  biit- 
falo.  Having  travelled  twenty-five  miles,  we  encamped  at  si.x  i.i  the  even- 
ing ;  and  the  men  were  sent  across  the  river  for  wood,  as  there  is  none 
here  on  the  left  bank.  Our  fires  were  partially  made  of  the  bois  de  vachc, 
the  dry  excrement  of  the  buffalo,  which,  like  that  of  the  camel  in  the  Ara- 
bian deserts,  furnishes  to  t\\v.  traveller  a  very  good  substitute  for  wood, 
burning  like  turf  Wolves  in  great  numbers  surrounded  us  during  the 
night,  crossing  and  recrossing  from  the  opposite  herds  to  our  camp,  and 
howling  and  trotting  about  in  the  river  until  morning. 

J'uly  ifth. — The  morning  was  very  smoky,  the  sun  shining  dimly  ;iii^l 
red,  as  in  a  thick  fog.     The  camp  was  roused  with  a  salute  at  daybreak, 


e  numer- 
readt'i  of 
iiree  hun- 
:  safely  at 

the  piiint 
rks.  Ik- 
;ontluence 
ive  and  a 
and  aloni;: 
illow.  In 
,,  to  which 
ributes,  as 
lese  places 

the  voya- 
is  40'  04' 

'   49'  43"- 
idred  feet. 

ird,  we  en- 
vuvre  of  a 
jut,  by  ten 
isappeared. 
Icy,  I  made 
le  ground) 
ing  from 
d  them  to 
Twise  have 
some  rich 
np  at  nine, 
fair  i'Kid ; 
rem  which 
;ant  breeze 
with  buf- 
the  even- 
;rc  is  none 
's  dc  vaclic. 
in  the  Ara- 
for  wood, 
during  the 
camp,  and 

dimly  and 
daybreak, 


I 


FIRSJ'  KXJ'KDITIOX—MORK  JiUI'FALOES.  91 

and  from  our  scanty  store  a  portion  of  what  our  Indian  friends  called  the 
■  red  fire-water"  served  out  to  the  men.  While  we  were  at  breakfast  a 
buffalo  calf  broke  through  the  camp,  followed  by  a  couple  of  wolves.  In 
its  frifi'ht  it  had  probably  mistaken  us  for  a  band  of  buffalo.  The  wolves 
were  obliged  to  make  a  circuit  around  the  camp,  so  that  the  calf  got  a  lit- 
tle the  start,  and  strained  every  nerve  to  reach  a  large  herd  at  the  foot  of 
the  hills,  abo  ''  two  miles  distant  ;  but  first  one,  and  then  another,  and  ai'- 
other  wolf  joined  in  the  chase,  until  its  pursuers  amounted  to  twenty  or 
thirty,  and  they  ran  him  down  before  he  could  reach  his  friends.  There 
wen;  a  few  bulls  near  the  place,  and  one  of  them  attacked  the  wolves  and 
tried  to  rescue  him  ;  but  was  driven  off  immediately,  and  the  little  animal 
fell  an  easy  prey,  haif  devoured  before  he  was  dead.  We  watched  the 
chase  with  the  interest  always  felt  for  the  weak  ;  and  had  there  been  a  sad- 
dled horse  at  hr'ud,  ^'  ■  voiild  have  fared  better.  Leaving  camp,  our  road 
soon  approachtC  t'  e  r.  ,  in  which  strata  of  a  marl  like  that  of  the  Chim- 
ney Rock,  hereafter  d  -s'jribed,  make  their  appearance.  It  is  probably  of 
this  rock  that  the  Iiills  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Platte,  a  little  below  the 
junction,  are  composed,  and  which  are  worked  by  the  winds  and  rains  into 
sharp  peaks  and  cones,  giving  them,  in  contrast  to  the  surrounding  level 
region,  something  of  a  picturesque  appearance.  We  crossed  this  morning 
numerous  beds  of  the  small  creeks  which,  in  the  time  of  rains  and  melting 
snow,  pour  down  from  the  ridge,  bringing  down  with  them  always  great 
c[uantities  of  sand  and  gravel,  which  have  gradually  raised  their  beds  four 
to  ten  feet  above  the  level  of  the  prairie  which  they  cross,  making  each 
one  of  theUi  a  miniature  Po.  Raised  in  this  way  above  the  surrounding 
prairie,  without  any  bank,  the  loiv^  yellow  and  winding  line  of  their  beds 
resembles  a  causeway  from  th.  hills  to  the  river.  Many  spots  on  the 
prairie  are  yellow  with  sunflower  (//<  'iauihus). 

As  we  were  riding  slow!  •  iv'oiig  this  afternoon,  clouds  of  dust  in  the 
ravines,  among  the  hills  to  the  pg''l,  sudi'enly  "ttractcd  our  attention,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  colui'.n  after  "(■  <r,ii  of  bulfalo  came  galloping  down, 
making  directly  to  the  river.  By  the  time  the  leading  herds  had  reached 
the  water  the  prairie  was  darkened  with  the  dense  masses.  Immediately 
before  us,  when  the  bands  first  came  ilowii  into  the  valle\-,  stretched  an 
unbroken  line,  the  heail  of  which  was  lost  among  the  river-hills  on  the  op- 
posite side ;  and  still  they  poureci  down  from  the  ridge  on  our  right. 
From  hill  to  hill,  the  prairie  bottom  was  ci.-rtainly  not  less  than  two  mil(;s 
wide;  and,  allowing  the  an.:.  ;Is  to  be  ten  feet  apart,  and  only  ten  in  a 
line,  there  were  alread)'  ekn  r,  thousand  in  view.  Some  idea  may  thus 
be  formed  of  their  number  whc.^  they  had  occupied  the  whi^le  plain.  In  a 
short  time  tbey  surrounded  us  on  every  side,  extending  for  several  miles 
in  the  rear,  a-id  forward  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  ;  leaving  around  us, 


"'IIIPjITT"    ■;  r 


I 


1    ^         :' 

1 

1 1. 
1 1 

V 

■,) 

i" 

i  'I 


«i   ^ii 


11 


92 


MfuMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


as  we  advanced,  an  open  space  of  only  two  cr  three  hundred  yards.  This 
movement  of  the  buffalo  indicated  to  us  the  presence  of  Indians  on  the 
North  Fork. 

I  halted  earlier  than  usual,  about  forty  miles  from  the  junction,  and  all 
hands  were  soon  busily  engaged  in  preparing  a  feast  to  celebrate  the  day. 
The  kindness  of  our  friends  at  St.  Louis  had  provided  us  with  a  large 
supply  of  e.xcellent  preserves  and  rich  fruit-cake  ;  and  when  these  were 
added  to  a  macaroni-soup  and  variously  prepared  dishes  of  the  choicest 
buffalo  meat,  crowned  with  a  cup  of  coffee,  and  enjoyed  with  prairie  ap- 
petite, we  felt,  as  we  sat  in  barbaric  luxury  around  our  smoking  supper  on 
the  grass,  a  greater  sensation  of  enjoyment  vhan  the  Roman  epicure  at 
his  perfumed  feast.  But  most  of  all  it  seemec'  '■  r;'easeour  Indian  friends, 
who,  in  the  unrestrained  enjoyment  of  the  mo.i  lemanded  to  know  if 

our  "  medicine  days  came  often."  No  restraint  v..  exercised  at  the  hos- 
pitable board,  and,  to  the  great  delight  of  his  eiders,  our  young  Indian  lad 
made  himself  extremely  drunk. 

Our  encampment  was  within  a  few  miles  of  the  place  where  the  road 
crosses  to  the  North  Fork,  and  various  reasons  led  me  to  divide  my  party 
at  this  point.  The  North  Fork  was  the  principal  object  of  my  survey ;  liut 
I  was  desirous  to  ascend  the  South  Branch,  with  a  view  of  obtaining  sonic 
astronomical  positions,  and  determining  the  mouths  of  its  tributaries  as  far 
as  St.  Vrain's  Fort,  estimated  to  be  some  two  hundred  miles  farther  up 
the  river  and  near  to  Long's  Peak.  There  I  hoped  to  obtain  some  mulos, 
which  I  found  would  be  necessary  to  relieve  my  horses.  In  a  military 
point  of  view,  I  was  desirous  to  form  some  opinion  of  the  country  relative 
to  the  establishment  of  posts  on  the  Hue  connecting  the  settlements  with 
the  South  Pass  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  by  way  of  the  Arkansas  antl  tht 
South  and  Laramie  P'orks  of  the  Platte.  Crossing  the  country  northwest- 
wardl)-,  from  St.  Vrain's  Fort  to  the  American  Company's  Fort  at  the 
mouth  of  Laramie,  would  give  me  some  acquaintance  with  the  affluents 
which  head  in  the  mountains  between  the  two  ;  I  therefore  determined  to 
set  out  the  next  morning,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Preuss  and  four  men — Max- 
well, Bernier,  Ayot,  and  Basil  Lajeunesse.  Our  Cheyennes,  whose  vil- 
lage lay  up  this  river,  also  decided  to  accompany  us.  The  party  I  left  in 
charge  of  Clement  Lambert,  with  orders  to  cross  to  the  North  Fork ;  and 
at  some  convenient  place,  near  to  the  Coulee  dcs  Frcncs,  make  a  cache  ol 
everything  not  absolutely  necessary  to  the  further  progress  of  our  expedi- 
tion. From  this  point,  using  the  most  guarded  precaution  in  his  mardi 
through  the  country,  he  was  to  proceed  to  the  American  Company's  T'ort 
at  the  mouth  of  Laramie's  Fork,  and  await  my  arrival,  which  would  be 
prior  to  the  i6th,  as  on  that  and  the  following  night  would  occur  some  oc- 
cultations  which  I  was  desirous  to  obtain  at  that  place. 


;: 


hlRST  EXPEDITTON—DrViniNG  OUR  PARTY. 


93 


July  ^tk. — Before  breakfast  all  was  ready.  We  had  one  led  horse  in 
addition  to  those  we  rode  and  a  pack-mule,  destined  to  carry  our  iiisiru- 
munts,  provisions,  and  bag-gaye  ;  the  last  two  articles  not  being  of  very 
oreat  wc:i,L,''ht.  The  instruments  consisted  of  a  sextant,  artificial  horizon, 
etc.,  a  barometer,  spy-glass,  and  compass.  The  chronometer  I  of  courst; 
kept  on  my  person.  I  had  ordered  the  cook  to  put  up  for  us  some  flour, 
coffee,  and  sugar,  and  our  rifles  were  to  furnish  the  rest.  One  blanket,  in 
addition  to  his  saddle  and  saddle-blanket,  furnished  the  materials  for  each 
man's  bed,  and  everyone  was  provided  with  a  change  of  linen.  All  were 
armed  witli  rifles  or  double-barrelled  guns  ;  and,  in  addition  to  these, 
Ma.wvell  and  myself  Avere  furnished  with  excellent  pistols.  Thus  accou- 
tred,we  took  a  parting  breakfast  with  our  friends,  and  set  forth. 

Our  journey  the  first  day  afforded  nothing  of  any  interest.  We  shot  a 
buffalo  toward  sunset,  and,  having  obtained  some  meat  for  our  evening 
meal,  encamped  where  a  little  timber  afforded  us  the  means  of  making  a 
lire.  Having  disposed  our  meat  on  roasting-sticks,  we  proceeded  to  un- 
[lack  our  bales  in  search  of  coffee  and  sugar  and  flour  for  bread.  With 
ihc  exception  of  a  little  parched  coffee,  unground,  we  found  nothing. 
Our  cook  had  neglected  to  put  it  up,  or  it  had  been  somehow  forgotten. 
Tired  and  hungry,  with  tough  bull-meat  without  salt  (for  we  had  not  been 
able  to  kill  a  cow )  and  a  little  bitter  coffee,  we  sat  down  in  silence  to  our 
miserable  fare,  a  very  disconsolate  part)-  ;  for  yesterday's  feast  was  yet 
fresli  ill  our  memories,  and  this  was  our  Hrst  brush  with  misfortune. 
Each  man  took  his  blanket,  and  laid  himself  down  silently  ;  for  the  worst 
part  of  these  mishaps  is,  tliat  they  make  people  ill-humored.  To-day  we 
had  travelled  about  thirty-six  miles. 

July  6//'.-  Finding  that  our  present  excursion  would  be  attended  with 
considerable  hardship,  and  unwilling  to  expose  more  persons  than  neces- 
sary, I  determined  to  send  Mr.  Preuss  back  to  the  party.  His  horse,  too, 
appeared  in  no  condition  to  support  the  journey  ;  and  accordingly,  after 
breakfast,  h(;  took  the  road  across  the  hills,  attended  by  one  of  my  most 
trusty  men,  Ik'rnier.  The  ridge  between  the  rivers  is  here  about  fifteen 
miles  broad,  and  I  expected  he  would  probabl)-  strike  the  fork  near  their 
evening  camp.  At  all  events,  he  would  not  fail  to  And  their  trail,  and  re- 
join them  the  next  day. 

We  continued  our  journey,  seven  in  number,  including  the  three  Chey- 
(.lines.  Our  general  course  was  southwest,  up  the  valley  of  the  river, 
which  was  sandy,  bordered  on  the  northern  side  of  the  valley  by  a  low 
I'idt^e ;  and  on  the  south,  after  seven  or  eight  miles,  the  river  hills  became 
liiglier.  Six  miles  from  our  resting-place  we  crossed  the  bed  of  a  consid- 
erable stream,  now  entirely  dry — a  bed  of  sand.  In  a  grove  of  willows 
near  the  mouth,  were  the  remains  of  a  considerable  fort,  constructed  of 


94 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


H\ 


trunks  of  large  trees.  It  was  apparently  very  old,  and  had  probably  been 
the  scene  of  some  hostile  encounter  among-  the  roving  tribes.  Its  soli- 
tude formed  an  impressive  contrast  to  the  picture  which  our  imaginations 
involuntarily  drew  of  the  busy  scene  which  had  been  enacted  here.  The 
timber  appeared  to  have  been  much  more  e.xtensive  formerly  than  now. 
There  were  but  few  trees,  a  kind  of  long-leaved  willow,  standing  ;  and 
numerous  trunks  of  large  trees  were  scattered  about  on  the  ground.  In 
many  similar  places  I  had  occasion  to  remark  an  apparent  progressive  de- 
cay in  the  timber.  Ten  miles  farther  we  reached  the  mouth  of  Lodge 
Pole  Creek,  a  clear  and  handsome  stream,  running  through  a  broad  valley. 
In  its  course  through  the  bottom  it  has  a  uniform  breadth  of  twenty-two 
feet,  and  si.x  inches  in  depth.  A  few  willows  on  the  banks  strike  pleas- 
antly on  the  eye,  by  their  greenness,  in  the  midst  of  the  hot  and  barren 
sands. 

The  amorpha  was  frequent  among  thn  ravines,  but  the  sunflower 
{helianthtis)  was  the  characteristic  ;  and  flowers  of  deep  warm  colors 
seem  most  to  love  the  sandy  soil.  The  imr^ession  of  the  country  travelled 
over  to-day  was  one  of  dry  and  barren  sands.  We  turned  in  towartl  the 
river  at  noon,  and  gave  our  horses  two  hours  for  food  and  rest.  I  had  no 
other  thermometer  than  the  one  attached  to  the  barometer,  which  stood 
at  89^,  the  height  of  the  column  in  the  barometer  being  26.235  at  meridian. 
The  sky  was  clear  with  a  high  wind  from  the  south.  At  two,  we  continued 
our  journey  ;  the  wind  had  moderated,  and  it  became  almost  unendurably 
hot,  and  our  animals  suffered  severely.  In  the  ''ourse  of  the  afternoon, 
the  wind  rose  suddenly,  and  blew  hard  from  the  southwest,  with  thunder 
and  lig'  '  ii'g,  and  squalls  of  rain;  these  were  blown  against  us  with  vio- 
lence by  ti>e  wind ;  and,  halting,  we  turned  our  backs  to  the  storm  until  it 
blew  over.  Antelope  were  tolerably  frequent,  with  a  large  gray  hare; 
but  the  former  were  shy,  and  the  latter  hardly  worth  the  delay  of  stopping 
to  shoot  them  ;  so,  as  evening  drew  near,  we  again  had  recourse  to  an  old 
bull,  and  encamped  at  sunset  on  an  island  of  the  Platte. 

We  ate  our  meat  with  a  good  relish  this  evening,  for  we  were  all  in  fine 
health,  and  had  ridden  nearly  all  of  a  long  summer's  day,  with  a  burninsr 
sun  reflected  from  the  sands.  ?dy  companions  slept  rolled  up  in  their 
blankets,  and  the  Indians  lay  in  the  grass  near  the  fire  ;  but  my  sleepin^;- 
place  generally  had  an  air  of  more  pretension.  Our  rifles  were  tied  to- 
gether near  the  muxzle,  the  butts  resting  on  the  ground,  and  a  knife  laid 
on  the  rope,  to  cut  away  in  case  of  an  alarm.  Over  this,  which  made  a  kind 
of  frame,  was  tliroun  a  large  india-rubber  cloth,  which  we  used  to  cover 
our  packs.  This  made  a  tent  sufficiently  large  to  receive  about  half  of  my 
bed,  and  was  a  place  of  shelter  for  my  instruments;  and  as  I  was  carehil 
always  to  put  this  part  against  the  wind,  I  could  lie  here  with  a  sensation 


FIRST  EXPEDITION— WILD  HORSES. 


5i 


95 


of  satisticd  enjoyment,  and  hear  the  wind  blow,  and  the  rain  patter  close 
to  my  head,  and  know  that  I  should  be  at  least  half  dry.  Certainly,  I 
never  slept  more  soundly.  The  barometer  at  sunset  was  26.010,  ther- 
mometer 81',  and  cloudy  ;  but  a  gale  from  the  west  sprang  up  with  the 
setting  sun,  and  in  a  few  minutes  swept  away  every  cloud  from  the  sky. 
Tin;  evening  was  very  fme,  and  I  remained  up  to  take  some  astronomical 
observations,  which  made  our  position  in  latitude  40  51'  17",  and  longi- 
tude 103   o;'  00". 

July  "jth. — At  our  camp  this  morning,  at  six  o'clock,  the  barometer 
was  at  26.183,  thermometer  69°,  and  clear,  with  a  light  wind  from  the 
southwest.  The  past  night  had  been  squally,  with  high  winds,  and  occa- 
sionally a  few  drops  of  rain.  Our  cooking  did  not  occupy  much  time,  and 
we  left  camp  early.  Nothing  of  interest  occurred  during  the  morning  ; 
the  same  dreary  barrenness,  except  that  a  hard  marly  clay  had  replaced 
the  sandy  soil.  Buffalo  absolutely  covered  the  plain  on  both  sides  the 
river,  and,  whenever  we  ascended  the  hills,  scattered  herds  gave  life  to  the 
view  in  every  direction.  A  small  drove  of  wild  horses  made  their  appear- 
ance on  the  low  river  bottoms,  a  mile  or  two  to  the  left,  and  I  sent  off 
uue  of  the  Indians  (who  seemed  very  eager  to  catch  one)  oa  my  led  horse, 
a  spirited  and  fleet  animal.  The  savage  manoeuvred  a  little  to  get  the 
wind  of  the  horses,  in  which  he  succeeded^approaching  within  a  hundred 
yards  without  being  discovered.  The  chase  for  a  few  minutes  was  ani- 
mated and  interesting.  My  hunter  easily  overtook  and  passed  the  hind- 
most of  the  wild  drove,  which  the  Indian  did  not  attempt  to  lasso  ;  all  his 
efforts  being  directed  to  the  capture  of  the  leader.  But  the  strength  of 
the  horse,  weakened  by  the  insufficient  nourishment  of  grass,  failed  in  a 
race,  and  all  the  drove  escaped.  We  halted  at  noon  on  the  bank  of  the 
river,  the  barometer  at  the  time  being  26.192,  and  the  thermometer  103', 
with  a  light  air  from  the  south,  and  clear  weather. 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon,  dust  rising  among  the  hills  at  a  particu- 
lar place  attracted  our  attention  ;  and,  riding  up,  we  found  a  band  of  eigh- 
teen or  twenty  buffalo  bulls  engaged  in  a  desperate  fight.  Though  butt- 
Iiil;  and  goring  were  bestowed  liberally  and  without  distinction,  yet  their 
efforts  were  evidently  directed  against  one  a  huge  gaunt  old  bull,  very 
lean,  while  his  adversaries  were  all  fat  and  in  good  order.  He  appeared 
very  weak,  and  had  already  received  some  wounds,  and,  while  we  were 
luokinL;  on,  was  several  times  knocked  clown  and  badly  hurt,  and  a  very 
lew  moments  would  have  put  an  end  to  him.  Of  course  we  took  the  side 
of  the  weaker  party,  and  attacked  the  herd  ;  but  they  were  so  blind  with 
rage,  that  they  fought  on,  utterly  regardless  of  our  presence,  although  on 
foot  and  on  horseback  we  were  tiring  in  open  view  within  twenty  yards 
of  tluin.      But  this  did  not  last  Viwy.      In  a  \erv  few  seconds  we  created  a 


I 


)    I 


T 


96 


m/:moirs  of  j/y  ijfk—johx  charles  fremoxt. 


i|       •   : 


III 


]      I 


i      I 


commotion  among  them.  One  or  two  which  were  knocked  over  by  the 
balls,  jumped  up  and  ran  off  into  the  hills  ;  and  they  began  to  retreat 
slowly  along-  a  broad  ravine  to  the  river,  fighting  furiously  as  they  went. 
By  the  time  they  had  reached  the  bottom,  we  had  pretty  well  disperset! 
them,  and  the  old  bull  hobbled  off  to  lie  down  somewhere.  One  of  his 
enemies  remained  on  the  ground  where  we  had  first  fired  upon  them,  aiu! 
we  stopped  there  for  a  short  time  to  cut  from  him  some  meat  for  our  sup- 
per. We  had  neglectetl  to  secure  our  horses,  thinking  it  an  unnecessary 
precaution  in  their  fatiguec!  condition  ;  but  our  mule  took  it  into  his  head 
to  start,  and  away  he  went,  followed  at  full  speed  by  the  pack-horse,  with 
all  the  iiaggagc  and  instruments  on  his  back.  They  were  recovered  and 
brought  back,  after  a  chase  of  a  mile.  Fortunately  everything  was  well 
secured,  so  that  nothing,  not  even  the  barometer,  was  in  the  least  injured. 

The  sun  was  getting  low,  and  some  narrow  lines  of  timber  four  or  five 
miles  distant  promised  us  a  pleasant  camp,  where,  with  plenty  of  wood  for 
fire,  and  comfortable  shelter,  and  rich  grass  for  our  animals,  we  should  find 
clear  cool  springs,  instead  of  the  warm  water  of  the  Platte.  On  our  arri- 
val, we  found  the  bed  of  a  stream  fifty  to  one  hundred  feet  wide,  sunk  soir.e 
thirty  feet  below  the  le\el  of  the  prairie,  with  perpendicular  banks,  bordered 
by  a  fringe  of  green  cottonwood,  but  not  a  drop  of  water.  There  were 
several  small  forks  to  the  stream,  all  in  the  same  condition.  With  the  ex- 
ception of  the  Platte  bottom,  the  country  seemed  to  be  of  a  clay  formation, 
dry,  and  perfectly  devoid  of  any  moisture,  and  baked  hard  by  the  sun. 
Turning  off  toward  the  river,  we  reached  the  bank  in  about  a  mile,  and 
were  delighted  to  find  an  old  tree,  with  thick  foliage  and  spreadini,^ 
branches,  where  we  encamped.  .\t  sunset  the  barometer  was  at  25.950, 
thermometer  81',  with  a  strong  wind  from  S.  20^  E.,  and  the  sky  partially 
covered  with  heavy  masses  of  cloud,  which  settled  a  little  toward  the  hori- 
zon by  ten  o'clock,  leaving  it  sufficiently  clear  for  astronomical  observa- 
tions, which  placed  us  in  latitude  40^  ;^^'  26",  and  longitude  103    30'  ;i';". 

yiily  '^tli. — The  morning  was  very  pleasant.  The  breeze  was  fresh 
from  S.  50°  E.  with  few  clouds  ;  the  barometer  at  six  o'clock  standing  at 
25.970,  and  the  thermometer  at  70  ,  Since  leaving  the  forks,  our  route 
had  passed  over  a  country  alternately  clay  and  sand,  each  presenting  th  • 
same  naked  waste.  On  leaving  camp  this  morning,  we  struck  again  :i 
sandy  region,  in  which  the  vegetation  appeared  somewhat  more  vigorous 
than  that  which  we  had  observed  for  the  last  few  days  ;  and  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  river  were  some  tolerably  large  groves  of  timber. 

Journeying  along,  we  came  suddenly  upon  a  place  where  the  ground 
was  covered  with  horses'  tracks,  which  had  been  made  since  the  rain,  and 
indicated  the  immediate  presence  of  Indians  in  our  neighborhood.  The 
buffalo,  too,  which  the  day  before  had  been  so  numerous.,  were  nowhere 


I'IRSr  EXPEDirrUN—AN  /MD/AX  CHARGE. 


97 


in  sicflit — another  sure  indication  that  there  were  people  near.  Riding  on, 
uc  discovered  the  carcass  of  a  buffalo  recently  killed — perhaps  the  day 
before.  We  scanned  the  horizon  carefully  with  the  glass,  but  no  living 
olijcct  was  to  be  seen.  For  the  next  mile  or  two,  the  ground  was  dotted 
with  buffalo  carcasses,  which  showed  that  the  Indians  had  made  a  sur- 
roiiiul  here,  and  were  in  considerable  force.  We  went  on  quickly  and 
cautiously,  keeping  the  river  bottom,  and  carefully  avoiding  the  hills  ;  but 
we  met  with  no  interruption  and  began  lo  grow  careless  again.  We  had 
already  lost  one  of  our  horses,  and  here  Basil's  mule  showed  symptoms 
(if  giving  out,  and  finally  refused  to  advance,  being  what  the  Canadians 
call  rcsti'.  He  therefore  dismounted,  and  drove  her  along  before  him ; 
liut  this  was  a  very  slow  way  of  travelling.  We  had  inadvertently  got 
about  half  a  mile  in  advance,  but  our  Cheyennes,  who  were  generally  a 
mile  or  two  in  the  rear,  remained  with  him.  There  were  some  dark-look- 
ing objects  among  the  hills,  about  two  miles  to  the  left,  here  low  and  un- 
dulating, which  we  had  seen  for  a  little  time,  and  supposed  to  be  buffalo 
coming  in  to  water ;  but,  happening  to  look  behind,  Maxwell  saw  the 
Cheyennes  whipping  up  furiously,  and  another  glance  at  the  dark  objects 
showetl  them  at  once  to  be  Indians  coming  up  at  speed. 

Had  we  been  well  mounted,  and  disencumbered  of  instruments,  we 
:night  have  set  them  at  defiance  ;  but  as  it  was,  we  were  fairly  caught. 
it  was  too  late  to  rejoin  our  friends,  and  we  endeavored  to  gain  a  clump 
of  timber  about  half  a  mile  ahead  ;  but  the  instruments  and  the  tired  state 
of  our  liorses  did  not  allow  us  to  go  faster  than  a  steady  canter,  and  they 
were  gaining  on  us  fast.  At  first  they  did  not  appear  to  be  more  than 
fifteen  or  twcntv  in  number,  but  grou[)  after  group  darted  into  view  at  the 
top  of  the  hills,  until  all  the  little  eminences  seemed  in  motion,  and,  in  a 
tew  minutes  from  the  time  they  were  first  discovered,  two  or  three  hun- 
ilied,  naked  to  the  breech-cloth,  were  sweeping  across  the  prairie.  In  a 
t<\v  hundred  yards  we  discovered  that  the  timber  we  were  endeavoring 
to  niakf;  was  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river;  and  before  we  could  reach 
the  bank,  tlown  came  the  Indians  upon  us. 

1  am  inclined  to  think  that  in  a  few  seconds  more  the  leading  man, 
and,  perhaps,  some  of  his  companions,  would  have  rolled  in  the  dust  ;  for 
we  had  jerked  the  covers  from  our  guns,  and  our  fingers  were  on  the 
triggers  ;  men  in  such  cases  generally  act  from  instinct,  and  a  charge  from 
three  hundred  naked  savages  is  a  circumstance  not  well  calculated  to  pro- 
mote a  cool  exercise  of  judgment.  Just  as  he  was  about  to  fire.  Max- 
well recognized  the  leading  Indian,  and  sliouted  to  him  in  the  Indian 
language,  "  You're  a  fool,  God  danm  you,  don't  you  know  me  .''  "  The 
sound  of  his  own  language  seemed  to  shock  the  savage,  and,  swerving 
his  horse  a  little,  he  passed  us  like  an  arrow.     He  wheeled,  as  I  rode  out 


98 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LI F PI- JOHN  CHARLES  FRAmO.VT. 


1:1 


: 


toward  him,  and  gave  me  his  hand,  striking  his  breast  and  exclaiming 
"  Arapaho  !  "  They  proved  to  be  a  village  of  that  nation  among  whom 
Maxwell  had  resided  as  a  trader  a  year  or  two  previously,  and  recognized 
him  accordingly.  We  were  soon  in  the  midst  of  the  band,  answering  as 
veil  as  we  could  a  multitude  of  cjuestions ;  of  which  the  very  first  was,  of 
Avhat  tribe  were  our  Indian  companions  who  were  coming  in  the  rear? 
Tiiey  seemed  disappointed  to  know  that  they  were  Cheyenncs,  for  they 
had  fully  anticipated  a  grand  dance  around  a  Pawnee  scalp  that  night. 

The  chief  showed  us  his  village  at  a  grove  on  the  river  six  miles  ahead, 
and  pointed  out  a  band  of  buffalo,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Platte  imiiK- 
diately  opposite  us,  which  he  said  they  were  going  to  surround.  They 
had  seen  the  band  early  in  the  morning  from  their  village,  and  had  been 
making  a  large  circuit,  to  avoid  giving  them  the  wind,  whtMi  they  dis- 
covered us.  In  a  few  minutes  the  women  came  galloping  up,  astride  on 
their  horses,  and  naked  front  the  knees  down,  and  the  hips  up.  Tliey 
followed  the  men,  to  assist  in  cutting  up  and  carrying  off  the  meat. 

The  wind  was  blowing  directly  across  the  river,  and  the  chief  requested 
us  to  halt  where  we  were  for  a  while,  in  order  to  avoid  raising  the  herd. 
We  therefore  unsaddled  our  horses,  and  sat  down  on  the  bank  to  view 
the  scene  ;  and  our  new  acquaintances  rode  a  few  himdred  yards  lower 
down,  and  began  crossing  the  river.  .Scores  of  wild-looking  dogs  fol- 
lowed, looking  like  trocjps  of  wolves,  and  having,  in  fact,  but  very  little  of 
the  clog  in  their  composition.  Some;  of  them  remained  with  us,  and  I 
checked  one  of  the  men,  whom  I  found  aiming  at  one,  which  he  was  about 
to  kill  for  a  w^olf.  The  day  had  become  very  hot.  The  air  was  clear, 
with  a  very  slight  breeze  ;  and  now,  at  twelve  o'clock,  while  the  barom- 
eter stood  at  25.920,  the  attached  thermometer  was  at  io8\  Our  Cliey- 
ennes  had  learned  that  with  the  Arapaho  village  were  about  twenty  lodges 
of  their  own,  including  their  own  families  ;  they  therefore  immediately 
commenced  making  their  toilette.  After  bathing  in  the  river,  they  invested 
themselves  in  some  handsome  calico  shirts,  which  I  afterward  learned 
they  had  stolen  from  my  own  men,  and  spent  some  time  in  arranging 
their  hair  and  painting  themselves  with  some  vermilion  I  had  given 
them.  While  they  were  engaged  in  this  satisfactory  manner,  one  of  their 
half-wild  horses,  to  which  the  crowd  of  prancing  animals  which  had  just 
passed  had  recalled  the  freedom  of  her  existence  among  the  wild  droves 
on  the  prairie,  suddenly  dashed  into  the  hills  at  the  top  of  her  speed. 
She  was  their  pack-horse,  and  had  on  her  back  all  the  worldly  wealth  of 
our  poor  Chcyennes,  all  their  accoutrements,  and  all  the  little  articles 
which  they  had  picked  up  among  us,  with  some  few  presents  I  had  given 
them.  The  loss  which  they  seemed  to  regret  most  were  their  spears  and 
shields,  and  some  tobacco  which  they  had  received   from  me.      However, 


/••/A'.V  /■  F.XP  1:1)1  riON—ARA  PA  I/O  INDIANS. 


99 


they  Iji"''^  '^  '^  ^^'''''  ^^  philosophy  of  an  Indian,  and  laughingly  con- 
tinued their  toilette.  They  appeared,  however,  a  little  mortified  at  the 
thou'-^ht  of  returning  to  the  village  in  such  a  sorry  plight.  "  Our  people 
will  laugh  at  us,"  said  one  of  them,  "  returning  to  the  village  on  foot,  in- 
stead of  driving  hack  a  drove  of  Pawnee  horses."  He  demanded  to  know 
if  I  loved  my  sorrel  hunter  very  much  ;  to  which  I  replied  he  was  the 
ubjcct  of  my  most  intense  affection.  Far  from  being  able  to  give,  I  was 
myself  in  want  of  horses  ;  and  any  suggestion  of  parting  with  the  few  I 
IkkI  valuable,  was  met  with  a  peremptory  refusal.  In  the  meantime  the 
slaughter  was  about  lo  commence  on  the  other  side.  So  soon  as  they 
reached  it,  the  Indians  separated  into  two  bodies.  One  party  proceeded 
directly  across  the  prririe  toward  the  hills  in  an  extended  line,  while  the 
other  went  up  the  river  ;  and  instantly  as  they  had  given  the  wind  to  the 
herd,  the  chase  commenced.  The  buffalo  started  for  the  hills,  but  were 
intercepted  and  driven  back  toward  the  river,  broken  and  running  in  every 
ilirectioii.  The  clouds  of  dust  soon  covered  the  whole  scene,  preventing 
us  from  having  any  but  an  occasional  view.  It  had  a  very  singular  ap- 
pearance to  us  at  a  distance,  especially  when  looking  with  the  glass.  We 
were  too  far  to  hear  the  report  of  the  guns,  or  any  sound  ;  and  at  every 
instant  through  the  clouds  of  dust  which  the  sun  made  luminous,  we 
could  see  for  a  moment  two  or  three  buffalo  dashing  along,  and  close  be- 
hind them  an  Indian  with  his  long  spear,  or  other  weapon,  and  instantly 
again  they  ilisappeared.  The  apparent  silence,  and  the  dimly  seen  figures 
llitting  by  with  such  rapidity,  gave  it  a  kind  of  dreamy  effect,  and  seemed 
more  like  a  picture  than  a  scene  of  mal  life.  It  had  been  a  large  herd 
when  the  ccriie  commenced,  probably  three  or  four  hundred  in  number  ; 
but,  though  I  watched  ihcm  closely,  I  did  not  see  one  emerge  from  the 
fatal  cloud  where  the  work  of  destruction  was  going  on.  After  remain- 
ini^-  here  about  an  hour,  we  resumed  our  journey  in  the  direction  of  the 
village. 

Gradually,  as  we  rode  on,  Indian  after  Indian  came  dropping  along, 
laden  with  meat  ;  and  by  the  time  we  had  neared  the  lodges,  the  back- 
ward road  was  covered  with  the  returning  horsemen.  It  was  a  pleasant 
contrast  with  the  desert  road  we  had  liccn  travelling.  Several  had  joined 
company  with  us,  and  one  of  the  chiefs  invited  us  to  his  lodge.  The  vil- 
lage consisted  of  about  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  lodges,  of  which 
twenty  were  Cheyennes  ;  the  latter  pitched  a  little  apart  from  the  Arapa- 
hoes.  They  were  disposed  in  a  scattering  manner  on  both  sides  of  a 
broad  irregular  street,  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  wide,  and  running 
along  the  river.  As  we  rode  alon-'-,  I  remarked  near  some  of  the  lodges  a 
kind  of  tripod  frame,  formed  of  three  slender  poles  of  birch,  scraped  very 
clean,  to  which  were  affixed  the  shield  and  spear,  with  some  other  weap- 


"'*|r?| "~        r 


fi    ' 


til 


1  ■-■It    1  ■    .. 


! 

II; 

•     ''\-v 

u. 

i 

i 

l. 

loo  MR.\rOIRS  OF  .\rY  l.ll'i:    JOIIX  CJtARLF.S  /■R/:M(>X7\ 

ons  of  a  chief.  All  were  scrupulously  clean,  the  spear-head  was  burnished 
bright,  and  the;  shield  white  and  stainless.  It  reminded  me  of  the  days  of 
feudal  chivalry  ;  and  when,  as  I  rode  by,  I  yielded  to  the  passini^r  impulse, 
and  touched  one  of  the  spotless  shields  with  the  muzzle  of  my  gun,  !  al- 
most expected  a  grim  warrior  to  start  from  the  lodge  and  resent  my  chal- 
lenge. The  master  of  the  lodge  spread  out  a  robe  for  me  to  sit  upon,  and 
the  sfjuaws  set  before  us  a  large  wooden  dish  of  buffalo  meat.  He  had  lit 
his  pipe  in  the  meanwhile,  and  when  it  had  been  passed  around,  we  com- 
m(.:nced  our  dinner  while  he  continued  to  smoke.  Gradually  five  or  six 
other  chiefs  came  in,  and  took  their  seats  in  silence.  When  we  had  nn- 
ished,  our  host  asked  a  number  of  questions  relative  to  the  object  of  our 
journey,  of  which  1  matle  no  concealment  ;  telling  him  simply  that  I  had 
made  a  visit  to  see  the  country,  preparatory  to  the  establishment  of  military 
posts  on  the  way  to  the  mountains.  Although  this  was  information  of  thu 
highest  interest  to  iheni,  and  by  no  means  calculated  to  please  them,  it 
excited  no  expression  of  surprise,  and  in  no  way  altered  the  grave  courtesy 
of  their  demeanor.  The  others  listened  and  smoked.  I  remarked  that 
in  taking  the  pipe  for  the  first  time,  each  had  turned  the  stem  upward,  with 
a  rapid  glance,  as  in  offering  to  the  Great  Spirit,  before  he  put  it  in  his 
inoulh.  A  storm  had  been  gathering  for  the  past  hour,  and  some  patteriiii^' 
drops  on  the  lodge  warned  us  that  we  had  some  miles  to  go  to  our  camp. 
Some  Indian  had  given  Maxwell  a  bundle  of  dried  meat,  which  was  verv 
acceptable,  as  we  had  nothing  ;  and  springing  upon  our  horses,  we  rode 
off  at  dusk  in  the  face  of  a  cold  slu)wer  and  drivincr  wind.  We  found  our 
companions  under  some  densely  foliaged  old  trees,  about  three  miles  up 
the  river.  L'nder  one  of  them  lay  the  trunk  of  a  large  Cottonwood,  to  lee- 
ward of  which  the  men  had  kindled  a  fire,  and  we  sat  here  and  roasted  our 
meat  in  tolerable  shelter.  Nearly  opposite  was  the  mouth  of  one  of  the 
most  considerable  affluents  of  the  .South  Fork,  /a  Fourchc  aux  Cantors 
(Heaver  Fork),  heading  off  in  the  ridge  to  the  southeast. 

Jtily  <^ih. — -This  morning  we  caught  the  first  faint  glimpse  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  about  sixty  miles  distant.  Though  a  tolerably  bright  clay, 
there  was  a  slight  mist,  and  we  were  just  able  to  discern  the  snowy  sum- 
mit of  "Long's  Peak"  (" /cs  deux  orcillcs"  of  the  Canadians),  showiiv.:;' 
like  a  small  cloud  near  the  horizon.  I  found  it  easily  distinguishable,  there 
being  a  perceptible  difference  in  its  appearance  from  the  white  clouds  that 
were  floating  about  the  sky.  I  was  pleased  to  find  that  among  the  traders 
and  voyagers  the  name  of  "  Long's  Peak"  had  been  adopted  and  become 
familiar  in  the  country.  In  the  ravines  near  this  place,  a  light  brown  sand- 
stone made  its  first  appearance.  About  eight,  we  discerned  several  per- 
sons on  horseback  a  mile  or  two  ahead,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river. 
They  turned  in  toward  the  river,  and  we  rode  down  to  meet  them.     We 


Ptj 


<:xi'i:niTio.\~cAMr  or  wiriri-.s. 


101 


tbuiul  tluMii  to  he  two  white  men,  antl  a  mulatto  named  Jim  Reckwith,  who 
had  left  St.  Louis  when  a  boy,  and  j^one  to  live  with  the  Crow  Indians, 
lie  had  distinL,nushed  himself  amon^'  them  by  some  acts  of  daring  bravery. 
and  had  risen  to  the  rank  of  a  chief,  but  had  now,  for  some  years,  left 
them.  They  were  in  search  of  a  band  of  horses  that  had  gone  off  from  a 
camp  some  miles  abt/e,  in  charge  of  Mr.  Chahonard.  Two  of  them  con- 
tinued clown  the  river,  in  search  of  the  horses,  and  the  American  turned 
back  with  us,  and  we  rode  on  toward  the  camp.  About  eight  miles  from 
(lur  sleeping-place  we  reached  IJijou's  Fork,  an  affluent  of  the  right  bank. 
Where  we  crossed  it,  a  short  distance  from  the  Platte,  it  has  a  sandy  bed 
about  four  hundred  yards  broad  ;  the  water  in  various  small  streams,  a  few 
inches  deijp.  Seven  miles  farther  brought  us  to  a  camp  of  some  four  or 
five  whites  (New  Englanders,  I  believe),  who  had  accompanied  Captain 
Wyeth  to  the  Columbia  River,  and  were  independent  trappers.  All  had 
their  squaws  with  them,  and  I  was  really  surprised  at  the  number  of  little 
fat  buffalo-fed  boys  that  wen;  tumbling  about  the  camp,  all  apparently 
of  the  same  age,  about  three  or  four  years  old.  They  were  encamped  on 
a  rich  bottom,  covered  with  a  profusion  of  fine  grass,  and  had  a  large 
iiumlu-r  of  fine-k  "king  horses  and  mules.  We  rested  with  them  a  few 
minutes,  and  in  ':  two  miles  arrived  at  Chabonard's  camp,  on  an  island 

in  the  Platte.     '  j  heights  above,  we  met  the  first  Spaniard  I  had  seen 

in  the  country.  Mr.  Chabonard  was  in  the  service  of  Bent  and  St.  Vrain's 
(ompany,  and  had  left  their  fort  some  forty  or  fifty  miles  above,  in  the 
spring,  with  boats  laden  with  the  furs  of  the  last  year's  trade.  He  had 
met  the  same  fortune  as  the  voyagers  on  the  North  Fork,  and,  finding  it 
im[)ossihle  to  proceed,  had  taken  up  his  summer's  residence  on  this  island, 
which  he  had  named  St.  Helena.  The  river  hills  appearc^l  to  be  com- 
posed entirely  of  sand,  and  the  IMatte  had  lost  the  muddy  character  of  its 
waters,  and  here  was  tolerably  clear.  From  the  mouth  of  the  South  Fork, 
I  had  found  it  occasionally  broken  up  by  small  islands  ;  and  at  the  time  of 
our  journey,  which  was  at  a  season  of  the  year  when  the  waters  were  at  a 
favorable  stage,  it  was  not  navigable  for  anything  drawing  si,\  inches 
water.  The  current  was  very  swift — the  bed  of  the  stream  a  coarse  gravel. 
I'rom  the  place  at  which  we  had  encountered  the  Arapahoes,  the  Platte 
b.acl  been  tolera])ly  well  fringed  with  timber,  and  the  islantl  here  had  a  tine 
c,Tove  of  very  large  cottonwoods,  under  whose  broad  shade  the  tents  were 
jntched.  There  was  a  large  drove  of  horses  in  the  opposite  prairie  bot- 
tom ;  smoke  was  r'sing  from  the  scattered  fires,  and  the  encampment  had 
(]uitc  a  patriarchal  air.  Mr.  Chabonard  received  us  hospitably.  (Jne  of 
the  people  was  sent  to  gather  mint,  with  the  aid  of  which  he  concocted  very 
good  julep;  and  some  boiled  bufi^xlo  tongue,  and  coffee  with  the  luxury  of 
sugar,  were  soon  set  before  us.     The  people  in  his  employ  were  generally 


I02 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  ERAMONT. 


I     ' 


11  I 


i   '\ 


\       ill 


H      i 


Spaniards,  and  among  them  I  saw  a  )'oung  Spanish  woman  from   Taos, 
whom  I  found  to  be  Beckwith's  wife. 

ytily  lo^/;.— We  parted  with  our  hospitable  host  after  breakfast  the 
next  morning,  and  reached  St.  Vrain's  Fort,  about  forty-five  miles  from  Si. 
Helena,  late  in  the  evening.  This  post  is  situated  on  the  South  Fork  of 
the  Platte,  immediately  under  the  mountains,  about  seventeen  miles  east 
of  ■  .ong's  Peak.  It  is  on  the  right  bank,  on  the  verge  of  the  upland  prairir, 
about  forty  feet  above  the  river,  of  which  the  immediate  valley  is  about 
six  hundred  yards  wide.  The  stream  is  divided  into  various  branches  bv 
small  islands,  among  which  it  runs  with  a  swift  current.  The  bed  of  the 
river  is  sand  and  gravel,  the  water  very  clear,  and  here  may  be  called  ;i 
mountain  stream.  This  region  appears  to  be  entirely  free  from  the  lime- 
stones and  marls  which  gi/e  to  the  Lower  Platte  its  yellow  and  dirty  color. 
The  Black  Hills  lie  b-^tween  the  stream  and  the  mountains,  whose  snowy 
peaks  olitter  a  few  miles  beyond.  At  the  fort  we  found  Mr.  St.  Vrain,  who 
received  us  with  much  kindness  and  hospitality.  Maxwell  had  spent  the 
last  two  or  three  years  between  this  post  and  the  village  of  Tuos  ;  and 
b^re  he  was  at  home,  and  among  his  friends.  Spaniards  frequently  come 
'  1 '  r  in  search  of  employment ;  and  several  came  in  shortly  after  our  arri- 
ve.!. They  usually  obtain  about  six  dollars  a  month,  generall)'  paid  to 
them  in  goods.  They  are  very  useful  in  a  camp,  in  taking  care  of  horses 
and  mules  ;  and  I  engaged  one,  who  proved  to  be  an  active,  laborious 
man,  and  Avas  of  very  considerable  service  to  me.  The  elevation  of  the 
Platte  here  is  five  thousand  four  hundred  fecc  above  the  sea.  The  nei^^h- 
bormg  mountains  did  not  appear  to  enter  far  the  region  of  perpetual  snow, 
which  was  generally  confined  to  the  northern  side  of  the  peaks.  On  the 
southern,  I  remarked  very  little.  Here  it  appeared,  so  far  as  I  could  judi^e 
in  the  distance,  to  descend  but  a  few  hundred  feet  below  the  summits. 

I  regretted  that  time  did  not  permit  me  to  visit  them  ;  but  the  pro|)ei- 
object  of  my  survey  lay  among  the  mountains  farther  north  ;  and  I  looked 
forward  to  an  exploration  of  their  snowy  recesses  with  great  pleasure. 
The  piney  region  of  the  mountains  to  the  south  was  enveloped  in  smoke, 
and  I  was  informed  had  been  on  fire  several  months.  Pike's  Peak  is  said 
to  be  visible  from  this  place,  about  one  hundred  miles  to  the  southward: 
but  the  smoky  state  of  the  atmosphere  prevented  my  seeing  it.  Th- 
weather  continued  overcast  during  my  stay  here,  so  that  I  failed  in  deter- 
mining the  latitude,  but  obtained  good  observations  for  time  on  the  morn- 
ings of  the  nth  and  12th.  An  assumed  latitude  of  40  22'  ,^0"  from  the 
evening  position  of  the  12th,  enabled  me  to  obtain,  for  a  toL-rably  correct 
longitude,  105"  12'  12". 

yu/y  \2th. — The  kindness  of  Mr.  St.  Vrain  had  enabled  me  to  obtain  ;i 
couple  of  horses  and  three  good  mules  ;  and  with  a  further  addition  to  our 


FIRST  EXPEDiriON—MWEAK  PIKE'S  PEAK. 


lOJ 


party  of  the  Spaniard  whom  I  had  hired,  and  two  others,  who  were  go- 
in-  to  obtain  service  ai  Laramie's  Fork,  we  resumed  our  journey  at  ten,  on 
the  morning  of  th(^  12th.  We  had  been  able  to  procure  nothing  at  the 
post  in  the  way  of  provision.  An  expected  supply  from  Taos  had  not  yet 
arrived,  and  a  few  pounds  of  coftee  was  all  that  could  be  spared  to  us.  In 
addition  to  this,  we  had  dried  meat  enough  for  the  first  day  ;  on  the  next, 
we  expected  to  fmd  buffalo.  From  this  post,  according  to  the  estimate  of 
die  country,  the  fort  at  the  moi.th  of  Laramie's  Fork,  which  was  our  next 
point  of  destination,  was  nearly  due  north,  distant  about  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  miles. 

l"or  a  short  distance,  our  road  lay  down  the  \alley  of  the  Platte,  which 
resembled  a  garden  in  the  splendor  of  fields  of  varied  flowers  which  filled 
the  air  with  fragrance.  The  only  timber  1  noticed  consisted  of  poplar, 
birch,  Cottonwood,  and  willow.  In  something  less  than  three  miles,  we 
crossed  Thompson's  Creek,  one  of  the  affluents  to  the  left  bank  of  the 
South  Fork  -a  fme  stream,  about  sixty-five  feet  wide,  and  three  feet  deep. 
Journeying  on,  the  low  dark  line  of  the  Black  Mills  lying  between  us  and 
the  mountains  to  the  left,  in  about  ten  miles  from  the  fort  we  reached 
Cache  a  la  Poudrc,  where  we  halted  to  noon.  This  is  a  very  beautiful 
mountain  stream,  about  one  hundred  feet  wide,  llowing  with  a  full  swift 
current  over  a  rocky  bed.  We  halted  under  the  shade  of  some  cotton- 
woods,  with  which  the  stream  is  wooded  scatteringly.  In  the  upper  part 
of  its  course,  it  runs  amid  the  wildest  mountain  scenery,  and,  breaking 
through  the  Black  Hills,  falls  mto  the  Platte,  about  ten  miles  below  this 
place.  In  the  course  of  our  late  journey,  I  had  managed  to  become  the 
possessor  of  a  very  untractable  mule  -a  perfect  vixc. — and  her  I  had 
turned  over  to  my  Spaniard.  It  occupied  us  about  half  an  hour  to-day  to 
jet  the  saddle  upon  her  ;  but,  once  on  her  back,  Jose  could  not  be  dis- 
mounted, realizing  the  accounts  given  of  Mexican  horses  and  horseman- 
ship ;  and  we  continued  our  route  in  the  afternoon. 

At  evening  we  encamped  on  Crow  (?)  Creek,  having  travelled  about 
twenty-eight  miles.  None  of  the  party  were  well  acquainted  with  the  coun- 
try, and  I  had  great  difificulty  in  ascertaining  what  were  the  names  of  the 
streams  we  crossed  between  the  North  and  South  Forks  of  the  Platte. 
This  I  supposed  to  be  Crow  Creek.  It  is  what  is  called  ;>  salt  stream,  am! 
the  water  stands  in  pools  having  no  continuous  course.  A  fine-grained 
sandstone  made  its  appearance  in  the  banks  The  observations  of  the 
r.ii^ht  placed  us  in  latitude  40^  42',  longitude  104    57'  49".      The  barometer 


at  sunset  was  25. 


obtain  a 
to  our 


;   attached  thermometer  at  66  .     Sky  clear,  except  in 
tlic  "ast,  with  a  light  wind  from  the  north. 

[i'lfy  \2,fli- — There  being  no  wood  here,  we  u=f"d  last  night  the  bois  de 
vache,  which  is  very  plentiful.     At  our  camp  this  morning  the  barometer 


•  i 


fl* 


I 


104 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFR—JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


was  at  25.235  ;  the  attached  tliermometer  60'.  A  few  clouds  were  mov- 
ing through  a  deep-blue  sky,  with  a  hght  wind  from  the  \vest.  After  a  ride 
of  twelve  miles,  in  a  northerly  tlirection,  over  a  plain  covered  wi'-h  innu- 
merable quantities  of  cacti,  we  reached  a  small  creek  in  which  there  was 
water,  and  where  several  herds  of  buffalo  were  scattered  about  among  the 
ravines,  which  always  afford  good  pasturage.  We  seem  now  to  be  pass- 
ing along  the  ba..e  of  a  plateau  of  the  Black  Hills,  in  which  the  formation 
consists  of  marls,  some  of  them  white  and  laminated  ;  the  country  to  the 
left  rising  suddenly,  and  falling  off  gradually  and  uniformly  to  the  right. 
In  five  or  si.K  miles  of  a  northeasterly  course,  we  struck  a  high  ridge, 
broken  into  conical  peaks,  on  whose  summits  large  boulders  were  gath- 
ered in  heaps.  The  magnetic  direction  of  the  ridge  is  northwest  and 
southeast,  the  glittering  white  of  its  precipitous  sides  making  it  visible  for 
many  miles  to  the  south.  It  is  composed  of  a  soft  earthy  limestone  and 
marls,  resembling  that  hereafter  described  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
Chimney  rock,  on  the  North  Fork  of  the  Platte,  easily  worked  by  the 
winds  and  rains,  and  sometimes  moulded  into  very  fantastic  shapes,  nt 
the  foot  of  the  northern  slope  was  the  bed  of  a  creek,  some  forty  feet 
wide,  coming,  by  frequent  falls,  from  the  bench  above.  It  was  shut  in  bv 
high  perpendicular  banks,  in  which  were  strata  of  white  laminated  marl. 
Its  bed  was  perfectly  dry,  and  the  leading  feature  of  the  whole  region  is 
one  of  remarkable  aridity,  and  perfect  freedom  from  moisture.  In  about 
six  miles  we  crossed  the  bed  of  another  dry  creek  ;  and,  continuing  our 
ride  over  a  high  level  prairie,  a  little  before  sundown  we  came  suddenly 
upon  a  beautiful  creek,  which  revived  us  with  a  feeling  of  delighted  sur- 
prise by  the  pleasant  contrast  of  the  deep  verdure  of  its  banks  with  the 
parched  desert  we  had  passed.  We  had  suffered  much  to-day,  both  men 
and  horses,  for  want  of  water  ;  having  met  with  it  but  once  in  our  unin- 
terrupted march  of  forty  miles,  a 'id  an  exclusive  meat  diet  creates  much 
thirst. 

"  Las  hcstias  licncn  niucha  htimlirr,"  said  the  young  Spaniard.  in(}uir- 
ingly  ;  "y  la gentc  iai/i/nen,"  saiil  I  :  "  amiffo,  we'll  camp  here.  "  A  stream 
of  good  and  clear  water  ran  winding  about  through  the  little  valley,  and  a 
herd  of  buffalo  were  quietly  feeding  a  little  distance  below.  It  was  (|uit'' 
a  hunter's  paradise  ;  and  while  some  ran  down  toward  the  band  to  kill 
one  for  supper,  others  collected  bois  t/r  vaclic  for  a  fire,  there  being  ii> 
wood  ;  and  I  amused  myself  with  himting  ior  plants  among  the  grass. 

It  will  be  seen,  by  occasional  r-Miiarks  on  the  geological  formation,  that 
the  roii:itiliients  of  the  soil  in  these  regions  are  good,  and  every  day 
.•served  to  strem;then  the  impression  in  my  mind,  confirmed  by  subsequent 
observation,  that  the  barren  appearance  of  the  country  is  due  almost  en- 
tirely to  the  extreme  dryness  of  the  climate.     Along  our  route  the  country 


FIRST  KXPEDiriON     I.ADY  rOI.K  CREEK. 


'OS 


hiul  seemed  to  increase  constantly  in  elevation.  Accordinsj;-  to  the  indica- 
tion of  the  barometer,  we  were  at  our  encampment  five  thousand  four 
hundred  and  forty  feet  above  the  sea. 

The  evening  was  very  clear,  with  a  fresh  breeze  from  the  south,  50' 
cast.  The  barometer  at  sunset  was  24.862,  the  thermometer  attached 
showintT  68^.  I  supposed  this  to  be  a  fork  of  Lodge  Pole  Creek,  so  far  as 
1  could  determine  from  our  uncertain  means  of  information.  Astronomical 
observations  gave  for  the  camp  a  longitude  of  104°  39'  i']" ,  and   latitude 

4i^o8'3i". 

July  \ifth. — The  wind  continued  fresh  from  the  same  quarter  in  the 
morning ;  the  day  being  clear,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  clouds  in 
the  horizon.  At  our  camp  at  six  o'clock  the  height  of  the  barometer  was 
24.830,  the  attached  thermometer  61°.  Our  course  this  morning  was  di- 
reedy  north  by  compass,  the  variation  being  15°  or  16^  easterly.  A  ride 
of  four  miles  brought  us  to  Lodge  Pole  Creek,  which  we  had  seen  at  its 
mouth  on  the  South  Fork  ;  crossing  on  the  way  two  dry  streams,  in  (-igh- 
tecn  miles  from  our  encampment  of  the  past  night,  we  reached  a  high 
bleak  ridge,  composed  entirely  of  the  same  earthy  limestone  and  marl  pre- 
viously described.  I  had  never  seen  anything  which  impressed  so  strongly 
on  my  mind  a  feeling  of  desolation.  The  valley,  through  which  ran  the 
waters  of  Horse  Creek,  lay  in  view  to  the  north,  but  too  far  to  have  any 
influence  on  the  immediate  view.  On  the  peak  of  the  ridge  where  I 
was  standing,  some  six  or  seven  hundred  feet  above  the  ri\er,  the  wind 
was  high  and  bleak  ;  the  barren  and  ariil  country  seemed  as  if  it  had  been 
swept  by  fires,  and  in  every  direction  the  same  dull  ash-colored  hue,  de- 
rived from  the  formation,  met  the  eye.  On  the  summits  were  some 
stunted  pines,  many  of  them  dead,  all  wearing  the  same  ashen  hue  of 
.'.csolation.  We  left  the  place  with  pleasure  ;  and,  after  we  had  de- 
scended several  hundred  feet,  halted  in  one  of  the  ravines,  which,  at  the 
distance  of  every  mihi  or  two,  cut  the  flanks  of  the  ridge  with  little  rush- 
ing streams,  wearing  something  of  a  mountain  character.  We  had  alniady 
begun  to  exchange  the  comparatively  barren  lands  for  those  of  a  nmre  fer- 
tile characti;r.  Though  the  sandstone  formed  the  broken  banks  of  the 
creek,  yet  they  were  covered  with  a  thin  grass  ;  and  the  fifty  or  sixty  feet 
which  formed  the  bottom  land  of  the  little  stream  were  clothed  with  very 
lu\uiiaiu  grass,  among  which  1  remarked  willow  and  cht-rry  {Ccrasus  vii- 


^^ininna)  ;  and  a  quantity  of  gooseberry  and  currant  bushes  occupi(;d  the; 
L:p„.aT  part. 

The  creek  was  three  or  four  feet  broad,  and  about  six  inches  deep, 
"iih  a  swift  current  of  clear  water,  and  tolerably  cool.  We  had  struck  it 
too  low  down  to  find  the  cold  water,  which  we  should  have  enjoyed  nearer 
'0  its  sources.     .At   two   p.m.  the   barometer  was  at   25.050,  the  attached 


: 


i  ! 


Wt 


|l   ^     \ 


'  i!i 


4,1 


f 


1 

!  i 

io6 


MEMOIRS  or  MY  I.II'F.—JOnX  CHARf.F.S  FREMONT. 


thermometer  104  .  A  clay  of  hot  sunshine,  with  clouds,  and  a  moderate! 
breeze  from  the  south.  Continuing  down  the  stream,  in  about  four  miles 
we  reached  its  mouth,  at  one  of  the  main  branches  of  Morse  Creek, 
Looking  back  upon  the  ridge,  whose  direction  appearetl  to  be  a  little  to 
the  north  of  east,  we  saw  it  seamed  at  frequent  intervals  with  the  dark 
lines  of  wooded  streams,  aflluents  of  the  river  that  flowed  so  far  as  wc 
could  see  along  its  base.  We  crossed,  in  the  space  of  twelve  miles  from 
our  noon  halt,  three  or  four  forks  of  Horse  Creek,  and  encamped  at  sunset 
on  the  most  easterly. 

The  fork  on  w'lich  we  encamped  appeared  to  have  followed  an  east- 
erly direction  up  to  this  place  ;  but  here  it  makes  a  very  sudtlen  bend  to 
the  north,  passing  between  two  ranges  of  precipitous  hills,  called,  as  I  was 
informed,  Goshen's  Hole.  There  is  somewhere  in  or  near  this  locality  a 
place  so  called,  but  I  am  not  certain  that  it  was  the  place  of  our  encamp- 
ment. Looking  back  upon  the  spot,  at  the  distance  of  a  few  miles  to  the 
northward,  the  hills  appear  to  shut  in  the  prairie,  through  which  runs  the 
creek,  with  a  semi-circular  sweep,  which  might  very  naturally  be  called  a 
hole  in  the  hills.  The  geological  composition  of  the  ridge  is  the  same 
which  constitutes  the  rock  of  the  Court-house  and  Chimney,  on  the  North 
I'ork,  which  appeared  to  me  a  continuation  of  this  ridge.  The  winds  and 
rains  work  this  formation  into  a  variety  of  singular  forms.  The  pass  into 
Goshen's  Hole  is  about  two  miles  wide,  and  the  hill  on  the  western  side 
imitates,  in  an  extraordinary  manner,  a  massive  fortified  place,  with  a  re 
markable  fulness  of  detail.  The  rock  is  marl  and  earthy  limestone,  white, 
without  the  least  appearance  of  vegetation,  and  much  resembles  masonry 
at  a  little  distance  ;  and  here  it  sweeps  around  a  level  area  two  or  three 
hundred  yards  in  diameter,  and  in  the  form  of  a  half-moon,  terminatinij 
on  cither  extremity  in  enormous  bastions.  Along  the  whole  line  of  the 
parapets  appear  domes  and  slender  minarets,  forty  or  fifty  feet  high,  giving; 
it  every  appearance  of  an  old  fortified  town. 

On  the  waters  of  WHiite  River,  where  this  formation  exists  in  great  ex- 
tent, it  prescMits  appearances  which  excite  the  admiration  of  the  solitary 
voyageur,  and  form  a  frequent  theme  of  their  conversation  when  speakin;^ 
of  the  wonilers  of  the  country.  Sometimes  it  offers  the  perfectly  illusiv 
appearance  of  a  large  city,  with  numerous  streets  and  magnificent  build- 
ings, among  which  the  Canadians  never  fail  to  see  th<Mr  cabaret ;  and 
sometimes  it  takes  the  form  of  a  solitary  house,  with  many  large  rham- 
bers,  into  which  they  <\\-'\\v.  their  horses  at  night,  and  sleep  in  these  natural 
defences  perfectly  secure  from  any  attack  o^  prowling  savages.  Hefon' 
reaching  our  r.imp  at:  Goshen's  Hole,  in  crossing  the  imnnmse  detritus  n' 
the  foot  of  the  Castle  Rock,  we  were  involved  amid  winding  passag(.'s  cut 
by  the  waters  of  the  hill ;  and  where,  with  a  breadth  scarcely  large  enough 


■^ 


1                ^^m 

re-    ^m 

vhite,     ^g 

snnry     H| 

three    ■ 

latiiv^    ■: 

if  the    m. 

{wiw^     H:' 

tit  rx- 

htary 

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Ihisiv 

Imilil- 

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latura! 
Kcforr 
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■    •          ■      i 

III 

y  «' 


on  a  nsino- 


FIRST  EXPEDITION— WHITE  RIVER. 


107 


3f 

a 

m 


for  the  passage  of  a  horse,  the  walls  rise  thirty  and  forty  feet  perpendicu- 
larly. This  formation  supplies  the  discoloration  of  the  Platte.  At  sunset, 
the  height  of  the  mercurial  column  was  25.500,  the  attached  thermometer 
So',  and  wind  moderate  from  S.  38'  E.  Clouds  covered  the  sky  with  the 
rise  of  the  moon,  but  I  succeeded  in  obtaining  the  usual  astronomical  ob- 
servations,  which   placed  us   in   latitude   41"  40'  13",   and  longitude    104 


24 


^,6". 


July  is^/i. — At  six  this  morning  the  barometer  was  at  25.515,  the 
thermometer  72" ;  the  day  was  fine,  with  some  clouds  looking  dark  on 
the  south,  with  a  fresh  breeze  from  the  same  quarter.  We  found  that  in 
our  journey  across  the  country  we  had  kept  too  much  to  the  eastward. 
This  morning,  accordingly,  we  travelled  by  compass  some  15°  or  20'  to 
the  west  of  north,  and  struck  the  Platte  some  thirteen  miles  below  Fort 
Laramie.  The  day  was  extremely  hot,  and  among  the  hills  the  wind 
seemed  to  have  just  issued  from  an  oven.  Our  horses  were  much  dis- 
tressed, as  we  had  travelled  hard,  and  it  was  with  some  difficulty  that 
they  were  all  brought  to  the  Platte  ;  which  we  reached  at  one  o'clock.  Tn 
riding  in  toward  the  river,  we  found  the  trail  of  our  carts,  which  appeared 
to  have  passed  a  day  or  two  since. 

After  having  allowed  our  animals  two  hours  for  food  and  repose,  we 
resumed  our  journey,  and  toward  the  close  of  the  day  came  in  sight  of 
Laramie's  Fork.  Issuing  from  the  river  hills,  we  came  first  in  view  of  Fort 
Platte,  a  post  belonging  to  Messrs.  Sybille,  Adams  &  Co.,  situated  im- 
mediately in  the  point  of  land  at  the  junction  of  Laramie  with  the  Platte. 
Like  the  post  we  had  visited  on  the  South  Fork,  it  was  built  of  earth,  and 
still  unfinished,  being  enclosed  with  walls  (or  rather  houses)  on  three  of 
the  sides,  and  open  on  the  fourth  to  the  river.  A  few  hundred  yards 
hrought  us  in  view  of  the  post  of  the  American  Fur  Company,  called  Fort 
John,  or  Laramie.  This  was  a  large  post,  having  more  the  air  of  military 
construction  than  the  fort  at  the  mouth  of  the  river.  It  is  on  the  left  bank, 
on  a  rising  ground  some  twenty-five  feet  above  the  water ;  and  its  lofty 
walls,  white-washed  and  picketed,  with  the  large  bastions  at  the  angles, 
ijave  it  qu'^e  an  imposing  appearance  in  the  uncertain  light  of  evening. 
.•\  cluster  of  lodges,  which  the  language  told  us  belonged  to  Siou.x  Indians. 
was  pitched  under  the  walls,  and,  with  the  fine  background  of  the  Rlack 
Mills  and  the  prominent  peak  of  Laramie  Mountain,  strongly  drawn  in  the 
dear  light  of  the  western  sky  where  the  sun  had  already  set,  the  whole 
formed  at  the  moment  a  strikingly  beautiful  picture.  From  the  comi)any 
at  St.  Louis  I  had  letters  for  Mr.  Boudeau,  the  gentleman  in  charge  of 
the  post,  by  whom  I  was  received  with  great  hospitality  and  an  efficient 
kindness,  which  was  invaluable  to  me  during  my  stay  in  the  country.  I 
found  our  people  encamped  on  the  bank,  a  short  distance  above  the  fort 


1 

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.:J 


p'niH 


■i!  •(• 


;        1 

if 

1. 

11/ 


io8 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


All  were  well :  and  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  bountiful  supper,  which  coffee  aiul 
bread  made  luxurious  to  us,  we  soon  forgot  the  fatigues  of  the  last  ten  days. 
July  idth. — I  found  that,  during  my  absence,  the  situation  of  affairs 
had  undergone  some  change  ;  and  the  usual  quiet  and  somewhat  monoto- 
nous regularity  of  the  camp  had  given  place  to  excitement  and  alarm. 
The  circumstances  which  occasioned  this  change  will  be  found  narrated  in 
the  following  extract  from  the  journal  of  Mr.  Preuss,  which  commences 
with  the  day  of  our  separation  on  the  South  Fork  of  the  Platte. 

"  7 ^^^y  '5''/^. — We  crossed  the  plateau  or  high  land  between  the  two 
forks  in  about  six  hours.  I  let  my  horse  go  as  slow  as  he  liked,  to  in- 
demnify us  both  for  the  previous  hardship  ;  and  about  noon  we  reached, 
the  North  Fork.  There  was  no  sign  that  our  party  had  passed  ;  we  rode, 
therefore,  to  some  pine-trees,  unsaddled  the  horses,  and  stretched  our 
limbs  on  the  grass,  awaiting  the  arrival  of  our  company.  After  remain 
ing  here  two  hours,  my  companion  became  impatient,  mounted  his  horse 
again,  and  rode  off  down  the  river  to  see  if  he  could  discover  our  people. 
I  felt  so  marodc  yet,  that  it  was  a  horrible  idea  to  me  to  bestride  that  sad- 
dle again  ;  so  I  lay  still.  1  knew  they  could  not  come  any  other  way,  an  1 
then  my  companion,  one  of  the  best  men  of  the  company,  would  not  aban- 
don me.  The  sun  went  down  ;  he  did  not  come.  Uneasy  I  did  not  feel, 
but  very  hungry  ;  I  had  no  provisions,  but  I  could  make  a  hre  ;  and,  as  1 
espied  two  doves  in  a  tree,  I  tried  to  kill  one  ;  but  it  needs  a  better  mark.; 
man  than  myself  to  kill  a  little  bird  with  a  rille.  I  made  a  large  fire,  how- 
ever, lighted  my  pipe — this  true  friend  of  mine  in  every  emergency  -lay 
down,  and  let  my  thoughts  wander  to  the  far  east.  It  was  wot  many  min- 
utes after  when  I  heard  the  tramp  of  a  horse,  and  my  faithful  companion 
was  by  my  side.  He  had  found  the  party,  who  had  been  delayed  by  niak 
ing  their  cache,  about  seven  miles  below .  To  the  good  supper  which  he 
brought  with  him  I  ditl  amph;  justice.  He  had  forgotten  salt,  and  I  trie;! 
the  soldier's  substitute  in  tinie  of  war,  and  used  gunpowder  ;  but  il  an- 
swered badly — bitter  enough,  but  no  flavor  of  kitchen  salt.  I  slept  well: 
and  was  only  disturbed  by  two  owls,  which  were  attracted  by  the  lire, 
and  took  their  place  in  the  tree  under  which  we  slept.  Their  music 
seemed  as  disagreeable  to  my  companion  as  to  myself;  he  tired  his  rifle 
twice,  and  then  they  let  us  alone. 

"  J'^h'  7^^'- — •'^t  about  ten  o'clock,  the  party  arrived  ;  and  we  contin- 
ued our  journey  through  a  country  which  offe  ed  but  little  to  interest  the 
traveller.  The  soil  was  much  more  sandy  than  in  the  valley  below  the 
confluence  of  the  forks,  and  the  {ixce.  of  the  country  no  longer  presented 
the  refreshing  green  which  had  hitherto  characterized  it.  The  rich  grass 
was  now  found  only  in  dispersed  spots,  on  low  grounds,  and  on  the  hot- 


/./A'.vy  exi'Kdjt/ox~j:.\tract  from  mr.  prkuss'  jourxai..    109 


torn  land  of  the  streams.  A  long  drought,  joined  to  extreme  heat,  had 
so  parched  the  upper  prairies,  that  they  were  in  many  places  bald  or  cov- 
t;rcd  only  with  a  thin  growth  of  yellow  and  poor  grass.  The  nature  of 
the  soil  renders  it  e.xtremely  susceptible  to  the  vicissitudes  of  the  climate. 
Between  the  forks,  and  from  their  junction  to  the  Black  Hills,  the  forma- 
tion consists  of  marl  and  a  soft  earthy  limestone,  with  granitic  sandstone. 
Such  a  formation  cannot  give  rise  to  a  sterile  soil  ;  and  on  our  return  in 
September,  when  the  country  had  been  watered  by  frequent  rains,  the 
valley  of  the  Platte  looked  like  a  garden  :  so  rich  was  the  verdure  of  the 
orasses,  and  so  luxuriant  the  bloom  of  abundant  flowers.  The  wild  sage 
begins  to  make  its  appearance,  and  timber  is  so  scarce  that  we  generally 
made  our  fires  of  the  hois  de  vache.  With  the  exception  of  now  and  then 
an  isolated  tree  or  two,  standing  like  a  light-house  on  the  river  bank, 
there  is  none  whatever  to  be  seen. 

"  July  '^tli.  -Our  road  to-day  was  a  solitary  one.  No  game  made  its 
appearance — not  even  a  buffalo  or  a  stray  antelope  ;  and  nothing  occurred 
to  break  the  monotony  until  about  five  o'clock,  when  the  caravan  made  ;i 
sudden  halt.  There  was  a  galloping  in  of  scouts  and  horsemen  from  every 
side — a  hurrying  to  and  fro  in  noisy  confusion  ;  rifles  were  taken  from  their 
cover  ;  bullet-pouches  examined  :  in  short,  there  was  the  cry  of  '  Indians  ' 
heard  again.  I  had  become  so  much  accustomed  to  these  alarms,  that  now 
ihcy  made  but  little  impression  on  me  ;  and  before  I  had  time  to  beconif" 
excited  the  new-comers  were  ascertained  to  be  whites.  It  was  a  large 
party  of  traders  and  trappers,  conducted  by  Mr.  IJridger,  a  man  well  known 
in  the  history  of  the  country.  As  the  sun  was  low,  and  there  was  a  fine 
s^rass  patch  not  far  ahead,  they  turned  back  and  encamped  for  the  night 
with  us. 

"  Mr.  I'ridger  was  invited  to  supper  ;  and,  after  the  table-cloth  was  re- 
moved, we  listened  with  eager  interest  to  an  account  of  their  adventures. 
What  they  had  met  we  would  be  likely  to  encounter ;  the  chances  which 
had  befallen  them  would  probably  ha[)pen  to  us  ;  and  we  looked  upon 
their  life  as  a  picture  of  our  own.  He  informed  us  that  the  condition  of 
the  country  had  become  exceedingly  dangerous.  The  Sioux,  who  had 
heen  badly  disposed,  had  broken  out  into  open  hostility,  and  in  the  pre- 
ceding autumn  his  party  had  encountered  them  in  a  severe  engagement, 
in  which  a  number  of  lives  had  been  lost  on  both  sides.  United  with  the 
Cheyenne  and  Gros  Ventre  Indians,  they  were  scouring  the  upper  country 
in  war  parties  of  great  force,  and  were  at  this  time  in  the  neighborhood  of 
the  Red  Biittes,  a  famous  landmark,  wliich  was  directly  on  our  path.  They 
had  declared  war  upon  every  living  thing  which  should  be  found  westward 
of  that  point ;  though  their  main  object  was  to  attack  a  large  camp  of 
whites  and  Snake  Indians    who  had  a  rendezvous  in  the  Sweet  Water 


"Mi' 


"i«i 


I 


III"! 


1 1:  ill 


4^ 


•1 '  'I 

ij:!! 


I  ii  -i 


,,  I 


Hi 


no 


A/J^AfO/RS  or  MY  LIFE   JOHiY  CHARLES  FRiiMONT. 


Valley.  Availinj''  himself  of  his  intimate  knowledge  of  the  country,  he  had 
reached  Larainic  by  an  unusual  route  through  the  Black  Hills,  and  avoided 
coming  into  contact  wij;h  any  of  the  scattered  parties. 

"  This  gentleman  offered  his  services  to  accompany  us  so  far  as  liu' 
h(;ad  of  the  Sweet  Water  ;  but  the  absence  of  our  leader,  which  was  deeply 
regretted  by  us  all,  rendered  it  impossible  for  us  to  enter  upon  such  ar- 
rangement. In  a  cam[)  consisting  of  men  whose  lives  had  been  spent  in 
this  country,  I  expected  to  find  every  one  prepared  for  occurrences  of  this 
nature  ;  but,  to  my  great  surprise,  I  found,  on  the  contrary,  that  this  news 
had  thrown  them  all  into  the  greatest  consternation,  and  on  every  sitlc  I 
heard  only  one  e.xclamation,  '  II  u'y  aura  pas  dc  vie  pour  nous.'  All  the 
night  scattered  groups  were  assembled  around  the  fires,  smoking  their 
pipes,  and  listening  with  the;  greatest  eagerness  to  exaggeratcid  details  of 
Indian  hostilities  ;  and  in  the  morning  I  found  the  camp  dispirited,  and 
agitated  by  a  variety  of  conflicting  opinions.  A  majority  of  the  people 
were  strongly  disposed  to  return  ;  but  Clement  Lambert,  with  some  five 
or  six  others,  professed  their  determination  to  follow  Mr.  Fremont  to  the 
uttermost  limit  of  his  journey.  The  others  yielded  to  their  remonstrances, 
and,  somewhat  ashamed  of  their  cowardice,  concluded  to  advance  at  least 
so  far  as  Laramie  Fork,  eastward  of  which  they  were  aware  no  danger  was 
to  be  apprehended. 

"  I\otwitli^.tanding  the  confusion  and  excitement,  we  were  very  early  on 
the  road,  as  the  days  were  extremely  hot,  and  we  were  anxious  to  profit  by 
the  freshness  of  the  morning.  The  soft  marly  formation,  over  which  we 
were  now  journeying,  frequently  offers  to  the  traveller  views  of  remarkable 
and  picturesque  beauty.  To  several  of  these  localities,  where  the  winds 
and  the  rain  have  worked  the  bluffs  into  curious  shapes,  the  voyageurs 
have  '.''iven  names  accordincr  to  some  fancied  resemblance.  One  of  these, 
called  the  Court-house,  we  passed  about  six  miles  from  our  encampment  of 
last  night,  and  toward  noon  came  in  sight  of  the  celebrated  Chimney  Rock. 
It  looks,  at  this  distance  of  about  thirty  miles,  like  what  it  is  called — the 
long  chimney  of  a  steam-factory  estal)lishment,  or  a  shot-tower  in  Ralti- 
more.  Nothing  occurred  to  interrupt  the  quiet  of  the  day,  and  we  en- 
camped on  the  river  after  a  march  of  twenty-finn*  miles.  Buffalo  had  be- 
come very  scarce,  and  but  one  cow  had  been  killed,  of  which  the  meat  had 
been  cut  into  thin  slices  and  hung  around  the  carts  to  dry. 

"  '7'"b'  ^'^f^'- — "^Ve  continued  along  the  same  fine  plainly  beaten  road, 
which  the  smooth  surface  of  the  country  afforded  us  for  a  distance  of  six 
hundred  and  thirty  miles,  from  the  frontiers  of  Missouri  to  the  Laramie 
Fork.  In  the  course  of  the;  day  we  met  some  whites,  who  wc-re  fol- 
lowing*-  along  in  the  train  of  Mr.  Bridger  ;  and,  after  a  day's  journey  of 
twenty-four  miles,  encamped  about  sunset  at  the  Chimney  Rock,  of  which 


en- 
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/./A'.s y  l:.\ PEDITION— EXTRA CT  I- ROM  JM'.   PR/A  SS'  JOI  RXAL.     1 1 1 

tli(  accoinpaiiyiiig  sketch  will  render  any  des:cription  unnecessary.  It  con- 
sists of  marl  and  earthy  limestone,  an-  the  weather  is  rapid'y  diminishing 
its  iieiirht,  which  is  now  not  more  than  two  hundred  feet  above  the  river. 
Tr.n  (tilers  who  visited  it  some  years  since  placed  its  height  at  upward  of 
tivi:  hundred  feet. 

■'  July  uM.  -The  valley  of  the  North  Fork  is  of  a  variable  breadth, 
lidiu  one  to  four,  and  sometimes  six  miles.  Fifteen  miles  from  the  Chim- 
nc!V  Rock  we  re;i.ched  one  of  those  places  where  the  river  strikes  the  bluffs, 
and  forces  the  ro.ul  to  make  a  considerable  circuit  over  the  uplands.  This 
presented  an  escarpment  on  the  river  of  about  nine  hundred  yards  in  length, 
and  is  familiarly  known  as  Scott's  Bluffs.  We  had  made  a  journey  of  thirty 
miles  before  we  aj^^ain  struck  the  river,  at  a  place  where  some  scanty  j^rass 
afforded  an  insufficient  pa  rurajje  to  our  animals.  About  twenty  miles 
from  the  Chimney  Rock  we  had  found  a  very  becUtiful  spring  of  excellent 
anil  cold  water  ;  but  it  was  in  such  a  deep  ravint. ,  and  so  small,  that  the 
animals  could  not  profit  by  it,  and  we  therefore  halted  only  a  few  minutes, 
and  found  a  resting-place  ten  miles  farther  on.  The  plain  between  Scott's 
Bluffs  and  Chimney  Rock  was  almost  entirely  covered  with  drift-wood, 
consisting  principally  of  cedar,  which,  we  were  informed,  had  been  sup- 
plied from  the  Black  Hills,  in  a  llood  five  or  six  years  since. 

"  July  1 2llt. — Nine  miles  iVom  our  encampment  of  yesterday  we  crossed 
Horse  Creek,  a  shallow  st."''!''^  of  clear  water,  about  seventy  yards  wide, 
falling  into  the  Platte  on  the  right  bank.  It  was  lightly  timbered,  and 
great  quantities  of  drift-wood  were  piled  up  on  the  banks,  appearing  to  be 
supplied  by  the  creek  from  above.  After  a  journey  of  twenty-six  miles, 
wc  encamped  on  a  rich  bottom  which  afforded  fine  grass  to  our  animals. 
lUiffalo  have  entirely  disappeared  and  we  live  now  upon  the  dried  meat, 
which  is  exceedingly  poor  food.  The  marl  and  earthy  limestone  which 
constituted  the  formation  for  several  days  past  had  changed  during  the 
day  into  a  compact  white  or  grayish-white  limestone,  sometimes  contain- 
ing hornstone  ;  and  at  the  place  of  our  encampment  this  evening  some 
strata  in  the  river-hills  cropped  out  to  the  height  of  thirty  or  forty  feet, 
consisting  of  ■  fine  ^^'ned  granitic  sandstone,  one  of  the  strata  closely 
rcsembli     ■■  t;       ss. 

jii. — To-d;'",  about  four  o'clock,  wc  reached  Fort  Laratnie, 
when  were  cordiall)   .itceived;   we  pitched  our  camp  a  little  above  the 

fort,  on  liH-  ban'  of  Laramie  River,  in  wh'ch  the  pure  and  clear  water  of 
the  mountain--  ream  looked  refreshingly  cool,  and  made  a  pleasant  con- 
trast to  th(!  muddy,  yellow  waters  c'  die  Platte." 


1  w.alked  up  to  visit  our  friends  at  the  fort,  which  is  a  quadrangular 
structure;,  built  of  clay,  after  the  fashion  of  the  M^-xicans,  who  arc  gener- 


i'l 


I 


H 


i! 


1 


i  5 


i  !i. 


tia 


MEMOIRS  OF  ?.  V  IJFK—JOHN  CHARLES  EREMOXT. 


ally  employed  in  building  them.  The  wal's  are  about  fifteen  feet  high, 
surmounted  with  a  wooden  palisade,  and  form  a  portion  of  ranyes  of 
houses  which  entirely  surround  a  yard  of  about  one  hundred  and  thir::v 
feet  square.  Every  apartment  has  it:s  door  and  >.indow — all,  of  course, 
opening  on  the  inside.  There  are  two  entrances,  r.pposite  each  other  and 
midway  the  wall,  one  of  which  is  a  large  and  piMjlic  entrance,  the  other 
smaller  and  more  private — a  sort  of  postern  gate.  Over  the  great  entrance 
is  a  square  tower  with  loop-holes,  ann,  like  the  rest  of  the  work,  built  of 
earth.  At  two  of  the  angles,  and  diagonally  opposite  each  other,  are  large 
square  bastions,  so  arranged  as  to  f.sveep  the  four  faces  of  the  walls. 

This  post  belongs  to  the  American  Fur  Company,  and,  at  the  time  of 
our  visit,  was  in  charge  of  Mr.  Boudeau.  Two  of  the  company's  clerks, 
Messrs.  Galpin  and  ICellogg,  were  with  him,  and  he  had  in  the  fort  about 
sixteen  mc^n.  As  usual,  these  had  found  wives  among  the  Indian  squaws; 
and,  with  the  usual  accompaniment  of  children,  the  place  had  quite  a  popu- 
lous appearance.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  the  object  of  the  es- 
tablishment is  trade  with  the  neighboring  tribes,  who,  in  the  course  of  the 
year,  generally  make  two  or  three  visits  to  the  fort.  In  addition  to  this, 
traders,  with  a  small  outfit,  are  constantly  kept  among  them.  The  articles 
of  trade  consist,  on  the  one  side,  almost  entirely  of  buffalo-robes;  and,  on 
the  other,  of  blankets,  calicoes,  guns,  powder,  and  lead,  with  such  cheap 
ornaments  as  glass-beads,  looking-glasses,  rings,  vermilion  for  painting, 
tobacco,  and  principalh',  and  in  spite  of  the  prohibition,  of  spirits,  brought 
into  the  country  in  the  form  of  alcohol  and  diluted  with  water  before  sold. 

While  mentioning  this  fact,  it  is  but  justice  to  the  American  Fur  Com- 
pany to  stat(;  that,  throughout  the  country,  I  have  always  found  them 
strenuously  Gpi)Osed  to  the  introduction  of  spirituous  liquors.  But,  in  the 
present  state  of  things,  when  the  country  is  supplied  with  alcohol,  when  a 
keg  of  it  will  purchase  from  an  Indipn  everything  he  possesses — his  furs, 
his  lodge,  his  horses,  and  even  his  wife  and  children — and  when  any  vaga- 
bond who  has  money  enough  to  purchase  a  mule  can  go  into  a  village  and 
trade  against  them  successfully,  without  withdrawing  entirely  from  the 
trade  it  is  impossible  for  them  to  discontinue  its  usj.  In  their  opposition 
to  this  practice  the  company  is  sustained,  not  only  by  their  obligation  t" 
the  laws  of  the  country  and  the  welfare  of  the  Indians,  ])ut  clearly,  a'so,  o:; 
grounds  of  policy  ;  for,  with  heavy  and  expensive  outfits,  they  contend  at 
manifestly  great  disadvantage  against  the  numerous  independent  and  un- 
licensed traders  who  enter  the  country  from  various  avenues,  from  the 
United  States  and  from  Me.xico,  having  no  other  stock  in  trade  than  some 
kegs  of  liquor,  which  they  sell  at  the  modest  price  of  thirty-six  dollars  th<; 
gallon.  The  difference  between  the  regular  trader  and  the  conrcny  dc^ 
hois  (as  the  French  call  the  itinerant  or  peddling  traders),  with  respect  to 


FIRST  KXPEDirrON—AAfKRJCAX  FUR  COMPANY. 


i'3 


the  sale  of  spirits,  is  here,  as  it  always  has  been,  fixed  and  permanent,  and 
iTOwiny  out  of  the  nature  of  their  trade.  The  regular  trader  looks  ahead, 
and  has  an  interest  in  the  preservation  of  the  Indians  and  in  the  regular 
pursuit  of  their  business,  and  the  preservation  of  their  arms,  horses,  and 
everything  necessary  to  their  future  and  permanent  success  in  hunting  ; 
the  conrciir  iks  /wis  has  no  permanent  interest,  and  gets  what  he  can  and 
for  what  he  can,  from  every  Indian  he  meets  even  at  ihe  risk  of  disabling 
him  from  doing  anything  more  at  hunting. 

The  fort  had  a  very  cool  and  clean  appearance.  The  great  entrance 
in  which  I  found  the  gentlemen  assembled,  and  which  was  floored,  and 
about  fifteen  feet  long,  made  a  pleasant,  shaded  seat,  through  which  the 
breeze  swept  constantly ;  for  this  country  is  famous  for  high  winds.  In 
the  course  of  conversation  I  learned  the  following  particulars,  which  will 
explain  the  condition  of  the  country. 

For  several  years  the  Cheyennes  and  Sioux  had  gradually  become  more 
and  more  hostile  to  the  whites,  and  in  the  latter  part  of  August,  1841,  had 
had  a  rather  severe  engagement  with  a  party  of  sixty  men  under  the  com- 
mand of  Mr.  Frapp,  of  St.  Louis.  The  Indians  lost  eight  or  ten  warriors, 
and  the  whites  had  their  leader  and  four  men  killed.  This  fight  took  place 
on  the  waters  of  Snake  River  ;  and  it  wi's  this  party,  on  tlieir  return  under 
Mr.  Hridger,  which  had  spread  so  much  alarm  among  my  people.  In  the 
course  of  the  spring,  two  other  small  parties  had  been  cut  off  by  the  SIdux 
one  on  their  return  from  the  Crow  nation,  and  the  other  among  the  Black 
Hills.  The  emigrants  to  Oregon  and  Mr.  liridger's  party  met  here,  a  few 
days  before  our  arrival.  Division  and  misunderstandings  had  grown  up 
among  the  emigrants  ;  they  were  already  somewhat  disheartened  by  the 
fatigue  of  their  long  and  wearisome  journey,  and  the  feet  of  their  cattle  had 
l)econie  so  much  worn  as  to  be  scarcely  able  to  travel.  In  this  situation 
they  were  not  likely  to  find  encouragement  in  the  hostile  attitude  of  th'- 
Indians,  and  the  new  and  unexpected  difficulties  which  sprang  up  before 
them.  They  were  told  that  the  country  was  entirely  swept  of  grass,  and 
that  few  or  no  buffalo  were  to  be  found  on  their  line  of  route  ,  and,  with 
their  weakened  animals,  it  would  be  impossible  for  them  to  transport  their 
heavy  wagons  over  the  mountain. 

I'niler  these  circumstances,  thej-  disposed  of  their  wagons  and  cattle  at 
the  forts  ;  selling  them  at  the  prices  they  had  paid  in  the  States,  and  tak- 
ing,' in  exchange  coffee  and  sugar  at  one  dollar  a  pouml  and  miserable  worn- 
out  horses  which,  died  before  they  reached  the  mountains.  Mr.  Boudeau 
informed  uk-  that  he  had  purchased  thirty,  au'l  the  lower  fort  eightj-,  head 
of  fine  cattle,  some  of  them  of  the  Durham  breed. 

Mr.  Fitz[)atrick,  whose  name  and  high  re[)utation  arc  familiarto  all  who 
interest  themselves  in  the  history  of  this  country,  luul  reached   Laramie  in 


T         tij 


:.!      i 


"4 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


;.     I  -, 


'i    ! 


i     ii 


■:i  II- 


I'  \s   i 


company  with  Mr.  Bridger ;  and  the  emigrants  were  fortunate  enough  to 
obtain  his  services  to  guide  them  as  far  as  the  British  post  of  Fort  Hall, 
about  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  beyond  the  South  Pass  of  the  mountains. 
They  had  started  for  this  post  on  July  4th,  and,  immediately  after  their  de- 
parture, a  war  party  of  three  hundred  and  fifty  braves  set  out  upon  their 
trail.  As  their  principal  chief  or  partisan  had  lost  some  relations  in  the 
recent  fight,  and  had  sworn  to  kill  the  first  whites  on  his  path,  it  was  sup- 
posed that  their  intention  was  to  attack  the  party  should  a  favorable  op- 
portunity offer  ;  or,  if  they  were  foiled  in  their  principal  object  by  the 
vigilance  of  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  content  themselves  with  stealing  horses  and 
cutting  off  stragglers. 

These  had  been  gone  but  a  few  days  previous  to  our  arrival. 

The  effect  of  the  engagement  with  Mr.  Frapp  had  been  greatly  to  irri- 
tate the  hostile  spirit  of  the  savages  ;  and  immediately  suljsequent  to  that 
event  the  Gros  Ventre  Indians  had  united  with  the  Oglallahs  and  Chcy- 
ennes,  and  taken  the  field  in  great  force — so  far  as  I  could  ascertain,  to  the 
amount  of  eight  hundred  lodges.  Their  object  was  to  make  an  attack  on 
a  camp  of  Snake  and  Crow  Indians  and  a  body  of  about  one  hundred 
whites,  who  had  made  a  rendezvous  somewhere  in  the  Green  River  \'alley 
or  on  the  Swet^t  Water.  After  spending  some  time  in  l)uffalo-huntinif  in 
the  neighborhood  of  the  Medicine  Bow  Mountain,  they  were  to  cross  over 
to  the  Green  River  waters,  ami  return  to  Laramie  by  way  of  the  South 
Pass  and  the  Sweet  Water  \'alley.  According  to  the  calculation  of  the 
Indians,  Mr.  Boudeau  informed  me  they  were  somewhere  near  the  head 
of  the  Sweet  W^ater. 

I  subsequently  learned  that  the  party  led  by  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  were 
overtaken  l)y  their  pursuers  near  Rock  Independence,  in  the  valley  of  the 
Sweet  Water  ;  but  his  skill  and  resolution  saved  them  from  surprise,  and, 
small  as  his  force  \\as,  they  did  not  venture  to  attack  him  openly.  Here 
they  lost  one  of  their  party  by  an  accident,  and,  continuing  up  the  valley, 
they  came  sueldenly  upon  the  large  village!.  I'rom  these  they  met  with  a 
doubtful  reception.  Long  residence  and  familiar  acquaintance  had  given 
to  Mr.  Fit'^patrick  great  personal  influence  among  them,  and  a  portion  ot 
them  were  disposed  to  let  him  ])ass  quietly  ;  but  by  far  the  greater  ninnber 
were  inclined  to  hostile  lueasiu-e;;,  and  the  chiefs  spent  the  whole  of  one 
night,  during  which  they  ke[jt  the  little  party  in  the  midst  of  them,  in  coun- 
cil, debating  the  question  of  attacking  them  the  next  day  ;  but  the  inlluence 
of  '■  The  Broken  Hand,"  as  they  calleil  Mr.  iMt/patrick  (one  of  his  liand^ 
having  been  shattered  by  the  bursUng  of  a  gun),  at  length  prevailed,  and 
obtained  for  them  an  unmolested  passage  ;  but  they  sternly  assured  hi;" 
that  this  jjath  was  no  longer  open,  and  that  any  party  of  whites  whirl: 
should  hereafter  be  found  upon  it  would  meet  with  certain  destructinn 


FIRST  EXPED/T/O.V—DA  VGEROUS  COUNTRY. 


\\- 


From  all  that  I  have  been  able  to  learn,  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  emigrants 
owe  their  lives  to  Mr.  Fiizpatrick. 

Thus  it  would  appear  that  the  country  was  swarming-  with  scattered 
war  parties  ;  and  when  1  beard,  duriny  the  day,  the  various  contradictory 
and  cxao'gerated  rumors  which  were  incessantly  repeated  to  them,  I  was 
not  surprised  that  so  much  alarm  prevailed  among  my  men.  Carson,  one 
of  the  best  and  most  experienced  mountaineers,  fully  supported  the  opinion 
o-iven  bv  Bridger  of  the  dangerous  state  of  the  country,  and  openly  ex- 
pressed his  conviction  that  we  c  )i''d  not  escape  without  some  sharp  en- 
counters with  ihe  Indians.  In  adilition  to  this,  he  made  his  will  ;  and 
amoni;  the  circumstances  which  were  constantly  occurring  to  increase  their 
alarm,  this  was  the  most  unfortunate  ;  and  I  found  that  a  number  of  my 
party  had  become  so  much  intimidated  that  they  had  requested  to  be  dis- 
charm'd  at  this  placi-.  I  dined  to-day  at  Fort  Platte,  which  has  been 
mentioned  as  situated  at  the  junction  of  Laramie  River  with  the  Nebraska, 
[((■re  1  heard  a  confirmation  of  the  statements  given  above.  The  party  of 
warriors  which  had  started  a  few  days  since  on  the  trail  of  the  emigrants 
was  cxjiccted  back  in  fourteen  days,  to  join  the  village  with  whicn  their 
families  and  the  old  men  had  remained.  The  arrival  of  the  latter  was 
hourly  expected  ;  and  some  Indians  have  just  come  in  who  had  left  them 
on  the  Laramie  Fork,  about  twenty  miles  above.  Mr.  Bissonette,  one  of 
the  traders  belonging  to  Fort  Platte,  urged  the  propriety  of  taking  with 
me  an  mterpreter  and  two  or  three  old  men  of  the  village,  in  which  case 
he  thought  there  would  be  little  or  no  hazard  in  encountering  any  of  the 
war  parties.  The  principal  danger  was  in  being  attacked  before  they 
should  know  who  w(>  were. 

These  Indians  had  a  confused  idea  of  the  numbers  and  power  of  our 
people,  and  dreaded  to  bring  upon  themselves  the  military  force  of  the 
United  States.  Mr.  Bissonette  who  spoke  the  language  fluently,  offered 
his  services  to  accompany  me  so  far  as  the  Red  Buttes.  He  was  desirous 
to  join  the  large  party  on  its  return,  for  purposes  of  trade,  and  it  would  suit 
Iiis  views,  as  well  as  my  own,  to  go  with  us  to  the  Buttes  ;  beyond  which 
point  it  woi:ld  b(>  impossible  to  prevail  on  a  Sioux  to  venture,  on  account 
iif  their  fear  of  the  Crows.  F'rom  F'ort  Laramie  to  the  Red  Buttes,  by  the 
nnlinarv  r(\u1,  is  one  hundred  and  thirty-five  miles  ;  and,  though  oidj-  on 
the  threshold  of  danger,  it  seemed  better  to  secure  the  services  of  an  in- 
Urprctcr  for  the  partial  distance  than  to  have?  none  at  all. 

So  far  as  frequent  interruption  from  the  Indians  would  allow,  we  occu- 
pied ourselves  in  m.aking  some  astronomical  calculations  and  bringing  uj) 
the  i^fencral  map  to  this  stage  of  otn-  joiuMiciy  ;  but  the  tent  was  generally 
iKTiipicd  bv  a  succession  of  our  ceremonious  visitors.  Some  came  for 
proscnls,  and  others  for  informal  ion  of  our  object  in  coming  to  the  country; 


I'i 


!  ■! 


I 


i.  ,, 


!■' I 


ii6 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE- JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


now  and  thf-Mi  one  would  dart  up  to  the  tent  on  horseback,  jerk  the  trap- 
pings from  his  horse,  and  stand  silently  at  the  door,  holding  him  by  the 
halter,  signifying  his  desire  to  trade  him.  Occasionally  a  savage  would 
stalk  in  with  an  invitation  to  a  least  of  honor  -  a  dog-feast — and  deliber- 
ately sit  down  and  wait  quietly  until  I  was  ready  to  accompany  him,  1 
went  to  one  ;  the  women  and  children  were  sitting  outside  the  lodge,  aiii! 
we  took  our  seats  on  buffalo-robes  spread  around.  The  dog  was  in  a  hu-j^f 
pot  over  the  fire,  in  the  middle  of  the  lodge,  and  immediately  on  our  arrival 
was  dished  up  in  large  wooden  bowls,  one  of  which  was  handed  to  eacli. 
The  flesh  appeared  very  glutinous,  with  something  of  the  flavor  and  ap- 
pearance of  mutton.  Feeling  something  move  behind  me,  I  looked  round 
and  found  that  I  had  taken  my  seat  among  a  litter  of  fat  young  puppies. 
Had  I  been  nice  in  .such  matters  the  prejudices  of  civilization  might  have 
interfered  with  my  tranciuillity  ;  but,  fortunately,  I  am  not  of  delicate  nerves, 
and  continued  cpiictl)-  to  empt)-  in)-  [)latter. 

The  weather  was  cloudy  at  evening,  with  a  moderate  south  wind,  and 
the  thermometer,  at  six  o'clock,  85  .  I  was  disappointed  in  my  hope  of  ob 
taining  an  observation  of  an  occultation  which  took  place  about  midnight. 
The  moon  brought  with  her  heavy  banks  of  clouds,  through  which  she 
scarcely  made  her  appearance  during  the  night. 

The  morning  of  the  i8th  was  cloudy  and  calm,  the  thermometer  at  six 
o'clock  at  64'.  About  nine,  with  a  moderate  wind  from  the  west,  a  storm 
of  rain  came  on,  accompanied,  by  sharp  thunder  and  lightning,  wdiich  lasted 
about  an  hour.  During  the  day  the  expected  village  arrived,  consisting; 
principal!)'  of  old  men,  women,  and  children.  They  had  a  considerable 
number  of  horses,  and  large  troops  of  dogs.  Their  lodges  were  pitches 
near  the  fort,  and  our  cam[)  was  constantly  crowded  with  Indians,  of  all 
sizes,  from  morning  until  night,  at  which  time  some  of  the  st)Uliers  j^eii- 
erally  came  to  drive  them  all  off  lo  the  village.  My  tent  was  tht;  only 
place  which  they  respected.  Here  onl)-  came  the  chiefs  and  men  of  dis- 
tinction, and  generally  one  of  them  remained  to  drive  away  the;  wonieii 
and  children.  The  numerous  strange  instruments,  applied  to  still  straiv^ar 
uses,  excited  awe  and  admiration  among  them,  and  those  which  I  usee'  in 
talking  with  the  sun  ami  stars  they  lookenl  upon  with  especial  revercno' 
as  mysterious  things  of  "  great  medicine."  0{  the  three  barometer^ 
which  I  had  broiight  with  me  thus  far  successful!)-,  I  found  that  two  wep 
out  of  order,  and  spent  the  greater  part  of  th('  19th  ui  re[)airing  them- an 
operation  of  no  small  difficult)-  in  the  midst  of  the  incessant  interruptinib 
to  which  I  was  subjected.  \\\;  had  the  misfortune  to  break  here  a  lar;" 
thermometer,  graduated  to  show  fifths  of  a  degree,  which  I  used  to  ascer- 
tain the  temperature-  of  boiling  water,  and  with  which  I  had  pro'uised  my- 
self some   interesting  experiments   in   the   mountains.      We    luul  but  om' 


FIRST  EKPJWITION—PART  Wn^H  BRANT  AND  BENTON.         117 

remaining-  on  which  the  graduation  extended  sufficiently  high  ;  and  this 
was  too  small  for  exact  observations.  During  our  stay  here  the  men  had 
been  engaged  in  making  numerous  repairs,  arranging  pack-saddles,  and 
otherwise  preparing  for  the  chances  of  a  rough  road  and  mountain  travel. 
\11  thin<'-s  of  this  nature  being  ready,  I  gathered  them  around  me  in  the 
evenin*'',  and  told  them  thst  "  I  had  determined  to  proceed  the  next  day. 
They  were  all  well  armed.  I  had  engaged  the  services  of  Mr.  Bissonette 
as  interpreter,  and  had  taken,  in  the  circumstances,  every  possible  means 
to  insure  our  safety.  In  the  rumors  we  had  heard  I  believed  there  was 
much  exaggeration,  and  then  they  were  men  accustomed  to  this  kind  of 
life  and  to  the  country  ;  and  that  these  were  the  dangers  of  every-day 
(Kcurrence,  and  to  be  expected  in  the  ordinary  course  of  their  service. 
They  had  heard  of  the  unsettled  condition  of  the  country  before  leaving 
St.  Louis,  and  therefore  could  not  make  it  a  reason  for  breaking  their  en- 
^rasrements.  Still,  I  was  unwilling  to  take  with  me,  on  a  service  of  some 
certain  danger,  men  on  whom  I  could  not  rely  ;  and  as  I  had  understood 
that  there  were  among  them  some  who  were  disposed  to  cowardice,  and 
anxious  to  return,  they  had  but  to  come  forward  at  once,  and  state  their 
desire,  and  they  would  be  discharged  witii  the  amount  due  to  them  for 
the  time  they  had  served."  To  their  lionor  be  it  said,  there  was  but  one 
among  them  who  had  the  face  to  come  forward  and  avail  himself  of  the 
permission.  I  asked  him  some  few  questions,  in  order  to  expose  him  to 
the  ridicule  of  the  men,  and  let  him  go.  The  day  after  our  departure  he 
engaged  himself  to  one  of  the  forts,  and  set  off  with  a  party  for  the  Upper 
Missouri.  1  did  not  think  that  the  situation  of  the  country  justified  me  in 
taking  luir  yung  companions,  Messrs.  Brant  and  Benton,  along  with  us. 
hi  case  of  mislortune  it  would  have  been  thought,  at  the  least,  an  act  of 
.;n>at  im[)rudence,  and  therefore,  though  reluctantly,  I  determined  to  leave 
tlicm.  Raiidolj)h  had  been  the  life  of  the  camp,  and  the  petit  oarcon 
was  much  regretted  by  the  men,  to  whom  his  buoyant  spirits  had  afforded 
Ljreat  amusement.  They  all,  however,  agreed  in  the  i)ri)priety  of  leaving 
him  ai  tlic  fort,  because,  as  the\'  saiil,  h(!  might  cost  the  lives  of  some  of 
the  men  in  a  fight  with  the  Indians. 

July  2\st. — .\  portion  of  our  baggage,  with  our  field-notes  nnd  obs(?r- 
vations,  and  several  instruments,  were  left  at  the  fort,  (^ne  of  the  gentle- 
men, Mr.  Galpin,  took  charge  of  a  barometer,  which  he  engaged  to  observe 
(hiring  my  absence  ;  and  I  inirusled  to  Raridolph,  by  wa\-  of  occupation, 
the  reL;uiar  winding  up  of  two  of  my  chronometers,  which  were  among  the 
in'^tnmients  left.  Oiu*  observations  showed  that  tlie  chronometer  which  I 
retainei!  for  the  continuation  of  our  voyage  had  preserved  its  rate  in  a 
:iinst  satisfactory  manner.  .\s  deducetl  from  it,  the  longitude  of  Fort 
l.aramie  is  ;//.  01'  21",  and  from  lunar  ilistance  7//.  01'  29"  ;  giving  for  the 


'■• 


i   ,.      i 


ii8 


MEMOrRS  OF  MY  FJFF.^JOHy  CHARI.FS  FREMONT. 


:i  I' 


1 


■    ri  ■     I 

5    ' 


\\\ 

!  '  I 

!     ! 


adopted  longitude  104'  47'  43".  Comparing  the  barometrical  observations 
made  during  our  stay  here,  with  those  of  Dr.  G.  Engelman  at  St.  Louis, 
we  find  for  the  elevation  of  the  fort  above  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  four 
thousand  four  hundred  and  seventy  feet.  The  winter  climate  here  is  n> 
markably  mild  for  the  latitude  ;  but  rainy  weather  is  frecjuent,  and  the 
place  is  celebrated  for  winds,  of  which  the  prevailingone  is  west.  An  cast 
wind  in  summer,  and  a  south  wind  in  winter,  are  said  to  be  always  accom- 
panied with  rain. 

\X&  were  ready  to  depart  ;  the  tents  were  stmck,  the  mules  geared  up, 
and  our  horses  saddled,  and  we  walked  up  to  the  fort  to  take  the  stirrnp- 
cHp  with  our  friends  in  an  excellent  home-brewed  preparation.  While 
thus  pleasantly  engaged,  seated  in  one  of  the  little  cool  chambers,  at  the 
door  of  which  a  man  had  been  stationed  to  prevent  all  intrusion  from  the 
Indians,  a  number  of  chiefs,  several  of  them  powerful,  fine-looking  men, 
forced  their  way  into  the  room  in  spite  of  all  opposition.  Handing  me  the 
following  letter,  they  took  their  seats  in  silence : 


"I'oKr  Pi.ATTK,  Juillet  i,  184:, 
"  M.  Frkmont  :  Lcs  chefs  s'ct.int  assembles  prcscntoincnt  me  diseiit  do  vcjiis  iivcriir 
dc  lie  puint  vous  mettrc  en  route,  avaiit  que  le  parti  de  jeuues  geus  qui  est  en  (leiiui\ 
soient  dc  rotour.  De  plus,  ils  me  diseiU  qu'ils  soiit  trcs  certains  cju'ils  fcnjnt  fen  ;'i  la 
premiere  rencontre.  lis  cU)ivent  rtre  de  retcjur  dans  sept  ;\  luiit  joiu-s.  Excuse/  si  y. 
vuus  fais  ces  observations,  niais  il  nic  semble  qu'il  est  de  inon  devoir  de  vous  avertinlu 
danger.  Meme  de  plus,  les  ciiefs  s;)ut  lcs  portcurs  de  cc  billet,  qui  vuus  defendeiit  lic 
partir  avant  le  retour  des  j^uerriers. 

"  Je  suib  vutre  obeissant  scrviteur, 

"  Joseph  Bissonettk, 

"  Par  \..   B.  ClIARTRAIN 

"Les  nnms  dc  </i/,i</ui-s  cliefs — Le  Chai^eau  dc  Loutre,  le  Casscur  de   Fleclics,  la  Nuit 
Noire,  la  Oueue  de  Ba-uf." 

"  Four  Pi.ATTK,  Jtdy  i,  184:. 
"Mr.  Frkmont  :  Tlio  rhjefs  tiavins^  assembled  in  council,  liave  just  told  metdwan 
yon  not  to  set  out  before  the  partv  (jf  vouiig  men  wiiich  is  now  out  shall  have  retunic;. 
Furtlierniore,  tliev  tell  ine  tlnit  thev  are  verv  sun;  tliev  will  fire  upon  you  as  soon  a- 
tliey  niei't  you.  Tliey  are  expected  back  in  seven  or  eit^ht  days.  Excuse  me  for  mur- 
ing these  observations,  but  il  seeius  my  duty  to  warn  you  of  danger.  Moreover,  \\a 
chiefs  who  prohibit  your  setting  out  before  tlie  return  of  tlic  warriors  are  the  bearc.s 
of  this  note. 

"  I  am,  your  obedient  servant, 

".loSKl'lI      IJISSONK  I  IK, 

"  By  L.  B.  Chartrain. 

"Names  of  sonu-  of  the  chiefs — The  Otter   Hat,  the   Brealicr  of  Arrows,  the   Blao; 
Night,  the  Bull's  Tail." 


FIRST  EXPEDITION— DRTA I  NED  P  J '  INDIA  NS.  1 1 9 

After  reading  this,  I  mentioned  its  purport  to  my  companions  ;  and, 
seciii"'  that  all  were  fully  possessed  of  its  contents,  one  of  the  Indians  rose 
up,  and,  havin^f  first  shaken  hands  with  me,  spoke  as  follows : 

"  Vou  have  come  among-  us  at  a  bad  time.  Some  of  our  people  have 
been  killed,  and  our  youny  men,  who  are  yone  to  the;  mountains,  are  eager 
to  avenge  the  blood  of  their  relations,  wdiich  has  been  shed  by  the  whites. 
Our  young  men  are  bad,  and  if  they  meet  you  they  will  believe  that  you 
arc  carryiny  goods  and  ammunition  to  their  (Miemies,  and  will  fire  upon 
vou.  Vou  have  told  us  that  this  will  make  war.  We  know  that  our  great 
father  has  many  soldiers  and  big  guns,  and  we  are  anxious  to  have  our 
lives.  We  love  the  whites,  and  are  desirous  of  peace.  Thinking  of  all 
these  things  we  have  determined  to  keep  you  liere  until  our  warriors  re- 
turn. We  are  glad  to  see  you  among  us.  Our  father  is  rich,  and  we  ex- 
pected that  you  would  have  brought  presents  to  us  —horses  and  guns  and 
blankets.  Wwt  we  are  glad  to  see  you.  We  look  upon  your  coming  as 
the  light  which  goes  before  the  sun  ;  for  you  will  tell  our  great  father  that 
vou  have  seen  us,  and  that  we  are  naked  and  poor,  and  have  nothing  to 
cat;  and  ht;  will  send  us  all  these  things."  He  was  followed  by  the  others 
to  the  same  effect. 

The  observations  of  the  savage  appeared  reasonable ;  but  I  was  aware 
that  they  had  in  view  only  the  present  object  of  detaining  me,  and  were 
unwilling  I  should  go  farther  into  the  country.  In  reply,  I  asked  them, 
through  the  interpretation  of  Mr.  Boudeau,  to  select  two  or  three  of  their 
number  to  accompany  us  until  we  should  meet  their  people  -they  should 
spread  their  robes  in  my  tent  and  eat  at  my  table,  and  on  our  return  I 
Hould  give  them  presents  in  reward  of  their  services.  They  declined,  say- 
in;j;  that  there  were  no  young  men  left  in  the  village,  and  that  they  were 
too  old  to  travel  so  many  days  on  horseback,  and  preferred  now  to  smoke 
then-  pipes  in  the  lodge,  and  let  the  warriors  go  on  the  war-path.  Besides, 
tliijy  had  no  power  over  the  young  men,  and  were  afraid  to  interfere  with 
them.  In  my  turn  I  addressed  them  :  "  "^'ou  say  that  you  love  the  whites  ; 
why  have  you  killed  so  many  already  tiiis  spring?  You  say  that  you  love 
the  whites,  and  are  full  of  many  expressions  of  friendship  to  us  ;  but  you 
are  not  willing-  to  undergo  the  fatigue  of  a  few^  days'  ride  to  save  our  lives. 
We  do  not  believe  what  you  have  said,  and  will  not  listen  to  you.  What- 
ever a  chief  among  us  tells  his  soldiers  to  do,  is  done.  W'e  are  the  soldiers 
nt  the  great  chief,  your  father.  He  has  told  us  to  come  here  and  see  this 
country,  and  all  the  Indians,  his  children.  Why  should  we  not  go  ?  Be- 
tore  wo  came,  we  heartl  that  you  hatl  killed  his  people,  and  ceased  to  be 
his  children  ;  but  we  came  among  you  peaceably,  holding  out  our  hands. 
Now  we  tuid  that  the  stories  we  heard  are  not  lies,  and  that  you  are  no 
oHL^er  his  Iriends   and  children.     We  have  thrown  away  our   bodies,  and 


i 


lae 


memoirs;  of  my  IJFF.—fOH.y  CHARLES  FR^MOyV. 


i  '■ 


'•I    ",    ?•!' 


will  not  turn  back.  When  you  told  us  that  your  young  men  would  kill  us, 
you  did  not  know  that  our  hearts  were  strong,  and  you  did  not  see  the 
rifles  which  my  young  men  carry  in  their  hands.  We  are  few,  and  you 
are  many,  and  may  kill  us  all ;  but  there  will  be  much  crying  in  your  vil- 
lages, for  many  of  your  young  men  will  stay  behind,  and  forget  to  return 
with  your  warriors  from  the  mountains.  Do  you  think  that  our  great  chief 
will  let  his  soldiers  die  and  forget  to  cover  their  graves  ?  Before  the 
snows  melt  again,  his  warriors  will  sweep  away  your  villages  as  the  fire 
does  the  prairie  in  the  autumn.  See  !  I  have  pulled  down  my  wliit,- 
hottses,  and  my  people  are  ready  ;  when  the  sun  is  ten  paces  higher  we 
shall  be  on  the  march.  If  you  have  anything  to  tell  us,  you  will  say  it 
soon."  I  broke  up  the  conference,  as  I  could  do  nothing  with  these  peo- 
ple ;  and,  being  resolveii  to  proceed,  nothing  was  to  be  gained  by  delay. 
Accompanied  by  our  hospitable  friends,  we  returned  to  the  camp.  We 
had  mounted  our  horses,  and  our  parting  salutations  had  been  exchanged, 
when  one  of  the  chiefs  (the  Bull's  Tail)  arrived  to  tell  me  that  they  had 
determined  to  send  a  young  man  with  us  ;  and  if  I  would  point  out  the 
place  of  our  evening  camp,  he  should  join  us  there.  ''  The  young  man  i^ 
poor,"  said  he  ;  "he  has  no  horse,  and  expects  you  to  gi  <  him  one."  I 
described  to  him  the  place  where  I  intended  to  encamp,  and,  shakiiiL^ 
hands,  in  a  few  minutes  we  were  among  the  hills,  and  this  last  habitation 
of  whites  shut  out  from  our  view. 

The    road  led  over  an  interesting  plateau  between   the   north  fork  of 
the  Platte  on  the  right,  antl  Laramie  River  on  the  left.     At  the  distance  of 
ten  miles  from  the  fort  we  entered  the  sandy  bed  of  a  creek,  a  kind  of  de- 
file, shaded  by  precipitous  rocks,  down  which  we  wound  our  way  for  scv 
eral  hundred  yards  to  a  place  where,  on  the  left  bank,  a  very  large  s[)rin; 
gushes  with  consideral)le  noise  and  force  out  of  the  limestone  rock.     It  is 
called  "  The  W^arm  .Spring,"  and  furnishes  to  the  hitherto  tlry  bed  of  thi 
creek  a  considerable  rivulet.      On  the  opposite  side,    a  little   below  thi 
sjiring,  is  a  lofty  limestone  escarpment,  partially  shaded  by  a  grove  of  hu'gr 
trees,  whose  green  foliage,  in  contrast  with  the  whiteness  of  the  rock,  ren 
ders  this  a  picturesque  locality.     The  rock  is  fossiliferous,  and,  so  far  a.';  I 
was  able  to  determine  tlie  character  of  the  fossils,  belongs   to   the  carbo- 
niferous limestone  of  tlie  Missouri  River,  and  is  probably  the  western  liniii 
of  that  formation.      Beyond  this  point  I  met  with  no  fossils  of  any  descri; 
tion. 

I  was  desirous  to  \'isit  the  Platte  near  the  point  where  it  leaves  the 
lilack  Hills,  and  therefore  followed  this  stream,  for  two  or  three  miles,  te 
the  mouth ;  where  I  encamped  on  a  spot  which  afforded  good  grass  ami 
/trcle  {c(]uisctum)  for  our  animals.  Our  tents  having  been  found  too  thin 
•^o  protect  ourselves  and  the  instruments  front  the  rains,  which  in  this  ele- 


ion 


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cv- 
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imii 
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111 

I  am! 

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FIRST  EXPRDTTIOX—TH].  lU.ACK  II I  U.S. 


% 
•5,! 


vatcci  country  are  altemlcd  with  cold  and  unpleasant  weather,  I  had  pro- 
cured troiii  tile  Indians  at  Laramie  a  tolerably  large  lodge,  about  eighteen 
feet  in  diameter,  urd  twenty  feet  in  height.  Such  a  lodge,  when  properly 
pitched,  is,  from  its  conical  form,  almost  perfectly  secure  against  the  vio- 
lent winds  which  are  freciuent  in  this  region,  and,  with  a  fire  in  the  centre, 
is  a  dry  and  warm  shelter  in  bad  weather.  By  raising  the  lower  part  so 
as  to  permit  the  breeze  to  pass  freely,  it  is  converted  into  a  pleasant  sum- 
mer residence,  with  the  extraordinary  advantage  of  being  entirely  free  from 
inos([uitoes,  one  of  which  I  have  never  seen  in  an  Indian  lodge.  While 
we  were  engaged  very  unskilfully  in  erecting  this,  the  interpreter,  J\Ir. 
Hissonette,  arrived,  accompanied  by  the  Indian  and  his  wife.  She  laughed 
at  our  awkwardness,  and  offered  her  assistance,  of  which  we  were  fre- 
([ucntly  afterward  obliged  to  avail  ourselves,  before  the  men  acquired  suf- 
ficient expertness  to  pitch  it  without  difliculty.  I'Vom  this  place  we  had  a 
fine  view  of  the  gorge  where  the  Platte  issues  from  the  Black  I  tills,  chang- 
in<T  its  character  abruptly  from  a  mountain  stream  into  a  river  of  the  plains. 
Immediately  around  us  the  valley  of  the  stream  was  tolerably  open  ;  and 
at  the  distance  of  a  few  miles,  where  the  river  had  cut  its  way  through  the 
hills,  was  the  narrow  cleft,  on  one  side  of  which  a  lofty  precipice  of  bright 
red  rock  rose  vertically  above  the  low  hills  which  lay  between  us. 

July  22c/.  In  the  morning,  while  breakfast  was  being  prepared,  I  visited 
this  place  with  m)-  favorite  man,  Basil  Lajeunesse.  Entering  so  far  as 
there  was  footing  for  the  mules,  we  dismounted,  and,  tying  our  animals, 
continued  our  way  on  foot.  Like  the  whole  country,  the  scenery  of  the 
river  had  undergone  an  entire  change,  and  was  in  this  place  the  most 
lieautiful  I  had  ever  seen.  The  breadth  of  the  stream,  generally  near  that 
of  its  valley,  was  from  two  to  three  hundred  feet,  with  a  swift  current, 
occasionally  broken  by  rapids,  and  the  water  perfectly  clear.  On  either 
side  rose  the  red  precipices,  vertical,  and  sometimes  overhanging,  two  and 
four  hundrctl  feet  in  height,  crowned  with  green  summits,  on  which  were 
scattered  a  itiw  pines.  At  the  foot  of  the  rocks  was  the  usual  detritus, 
formed  of  masses  fallen  from  above.  Among  the  pines  that  grew  here, 
and  on  the  occasional  banks,  were  the  cherry  (^Ccrasus  virginiana),  cur- 
rants, and  grains  de  b<euf  {S/icp/icrdia  argcntea).  Viewed  in  the  sunshine 
ot  a  pleasant  morning,  the  scenery  was  of  a  most  striking  and  romantic 
lieaiity,  which  arose  from  the  picturesque  disposition  of  the  objects,  and  the 
vivid  contrast  of  colors.  I  thought  with  much  pleasure  of  our  approach- 
ing descent  in  the  canoe  through  such  interesting  places  ;  and,  in  the  ex- 
liectation  of  being  able  at  that  time  to  give  to  them  a  full  examination,  did 
not  now  dwell  so  much  as  might  have  been  desirable  upon  the  geological 
tormations  along  the  line  of  the  river,  where  they  are  developed  with  great 
clearness.     The  upper  portion  of  the  red  strata  consists  of  very  compact 


If 


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I 


I. '2  A//iAfO/N.S  OF  MY  IJFR—JOIIN  CHARLES  FRfhMOXT. 

cla)',  in  which  are  occasionally  seen  embedded  larg(>  pebbles.  iUdow  was 
a  stralmn  of  compact  red  sandstone,  changing  a  littk;  above  the  river  into 
a  very  hard  silicious  limestone.  There  is  a  small  but  handsoiiu!  open 
prairie  immediately  below  this  place,  on  the  left  bank  of  the  rivir,  which 
would  be  a  good  locality  for  a  military  post.  Tliere  are  souk;  open  grovtjs 
of  cotton-wood  on  the  Platte.  The  small  stream  which  comes  in  at  this 
place  is  well  timbered  with  pine,  and  good  building-rock  is  abundant. 

If  it  is  in  contemplation  to  keep  open  the  communications  with  Orc^ron 
Territory,  a  show  of  military  force  in  this  country  is  absolutely  necessary; 
and  a  combination  of  advantages  renders    the  neighborhood   of  b^ort  Lara- 
mie the  most  suitable  place,  on  the  line  of  the  Platte,  for  the  establishment 
of  a  military  post.      It   is  connected  with  the  mouth  of  the  Platte  and  the 
Upper  Missouri  by  e.xcellent  roads,  which  are  in  frecjuiMit  use,  and  would 
not  in  any  way  interfere  with  the  range  of  the  buffalo,  on  which  the  nei^'h- 
boring  Indians  mainly  depend  for  support.      It  would  rentier  any  posts  on 
the    Lower    Platte    unnecessary  ;   the  ordinary  communication  between  it 
and  the  Missouri  being  sufficient  to  control  the  intermediate  Indians.     It 
would  operate  effectually  to  prevent  any  such  coalitions  as  are  now  formed 
among  the  Gros  Ventres,  Sioux,  Cheyennes,  and  other  Indians,  and  would 
kee[)  the  Oregon  road  through  the  valley  of  the  Sweet  Water  and  the  ^outii 
Pass  of  the  mountains  constantly  open.      A  glance  at  the  map  which  ,ic- 
companies  this  chapter  will  show  that  it  lies  at  the  foot  of  a  broken  and 
mountainous  region,  along  which,  by  the  establishment  of  small  posts  in 
the  neighborhood  of  St.  Vrain's  Fort,  on  the  South  l""ork  of  the  Platte,  and 
Bent's  Fort,  on  the  Arkansas,  aline  of  communication   would  be  formed, 
by  good  luaffon  roads,  with  our  southern    military  posts,  which  would  en- 
tirely command  the  mountain  passes,  hold  some  of  the  most   troublesome 
tribes  in  check,  and  protect  and  facilitate  our  intercourse  with  the   neigh- 
boring  Spanish   settlements.      The   valleys   of  the  rivers  on  which  they 
would  bj  situated  are  fertile  ;   the  country,  which  supports  immense  herds 
of  buffalo,  is  admirably  adapted  to  grazing  ;  and  herds   of  cattle   might  be 
maintained  by  the  posts,  or  obtained  from  the  Spanish  country,  which  al- 
ready supplies  a  portion  of  their  provisions  to  the  trading-posts  mentioned 
above. 

Just  as  we  were  leaving  the  camp  this  morning,  our  Indian  came  up 
and  stated  his  intention  of  not  proceeding  any  farther  until  he  had  seen 
the  horse  which  I  intended  to  give  him.  I  felt  strongly  tempted  to  drive 
him  out  of  the  camp;  but  his  presence  appeared  to  give  confidence  to  my 
men,  and  the  interpreter  thought  it  absolutely  necessary.  I  was,  there- 
fore, obliged  to  do  what  he  requested,  and  pointed  out  the  animal,  with 
which  he  seemed  satisfied,  and  we  continued  our  journey.  I  had  imagined 
that  Mr.  Bissonette's  long  residence  had  made  him  acquainted  with  the 


IIRST  EXni'-PiriOX—TIIF.   ni..\CK  or  /..IRA.U/r.   mi. is.  r-;, 

country,  and,  according  to  his  advice,  proceeded  directly  forward,  without 
aUcmptinj,' to  regain  the  usual  road.  He  afterward  informed  nic  that  he 
iuid  rarely  ever  lost  sight  of  the  fort  ;  luit  the  effect  of  the  'nistaki;  was  to 
involve  us  fur  a  day  or  two  among  the  hills,  where,  although  we  lost  no 
lime,  we  epcountered  an  exceedingly  rough  road. 

To  tli'^  south,  along  our  line  of  march  to-day,  the  main  chain  of  the 
Hlark  or  Laramie  Hills  rises  precipitously.  Time  did  not  permit  me  to 
visit  them  ;  but,  from  comparative  inf(jnnation,  the  ridge  is  composed  of 
tlic  coarse  sandstone  or  conglomerate  hereaft'_r  descril)c;d.  It  appears  to 
enter  tlie  region  of  clouds,  which  are  arrcstetl  in  their  course,  and  lie  in 
iiKissc;  along  the  summits.  ,\n  inverted  cone  of  black  cloud  (cumulus) 
rL'.-.Utt  tluring  all  the  forenoon  on  the  lofty  peak  of  Laramie  Mountain, 
which  1  estimated  to  be  about  two  thousand  feet  above  the  fort,  or  six 
tliousand  fi\e  hundred  above  the  sea.  We  halted  to  noon  on  the-  J-'om che 
Anurc,  so  called  from  being  timbered  principally  with  the  Hard  aincre  i  a 
succics  of  poplar),  with  which  the  valley  of  the  little  stream  is  tolerably 
well  wooded,  and  which,  with  large  e.xpansive  summits,  grows  to  the 
height  of  si.xty  or  seventy  feet. 

The  bed  of  the  creek  is  sand  and  gravel,  the  water  dispersed  over  the 
broad  bed  in  several  shallow  streams.  We  found  here,  on  the  right  bark, 
in  the  shade  of  the  trees,  a  fine  spring  of  very  cold  water.  It  will  be  re- 
marked that  I  do  not  mention,  in  this  portion  of  the  journey,  the  tempera- 
lure  ofthi;  air,  sand,  springs,  etc.— an  omission  which  will  be  explained  in 
the  course  of  the  narrative.  In  my  search  for  plants  I  was  well  rewarded 
at  this  place. 


1 

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CHAPTER    V. 

First  Expedition  (continiicrl) — Arteniisias — Indiiin  Alnrm — Scattered  Indians — Deer 
Creek — Nature  of  the  Laramie  I'vuad — Discouraging  Information — A  Cache — Sweet 
Water  River — Goat  Island  — Devil's  Gate— First  Grizzly  and  Magpie — South  Pass 
— The  Little  and  Big  Sandy  -Repairing  Harometcr  Scarcity  of  Food — An  Im- 
pressive  Spot — A  DifTicnlt  and  Dangerous  Ascent  —lixcessive  Fatigue,  no  I'^ddd. 
and  111 — I'^reninnt's  Peak — (rood  Humor,  Laughter,  and  Song — ACafion — An  l't;lv 

Pass— Hot  Spring  Crate — Mr.  Pierre  Sarpy — Ilnme  .\gain — Preparing  for  Sc id 

Expedition — Mrs.  Fremont  Interccjits  .i  Government  Order. 

Willi  th<!  change  in  the  geological  formation  on  leaving  Fort  Laramie 
the  whole  face  of  the  coimtry  has  entirely  altered  its  appearance.  Mast- 
ward  of  that  meridian  the  principal  objects  which  s*rike  the  eye  of  a  trav- 
eller are  the  .absence  of  timber,  and  the  immense  expanse  of  prairie,  cov- 
ered with  the  verdure  of  rich  grasses,  an<l  highly  adapted  for  pas',arai.^c. 
Wherever  they  are  not  disturbed  by  the  vicinity  of  man,  large  herds  of 
buffalo  give  animation  to  this  country.  Wc^stward  of  Laramie  River  the 
regi,)n  is  sandy  and  apparentlv  sterile  ;  and  the  place  of  the  grass  is 
usurped  by  the  aytcmisia  and.  other  odorif(>roiis  plants,  to  whose  growth 
ilic  sandy  soil  an>l  (\\-\  air  of  this  elevated  region  seem  highly  favorable. 

One  of  the  prominent  characteristics  in  thi?  face  of  the  coimtrj-  is  the  ex- 
traordinary abimdance  of  the  artemisias.  They  grow  everywhere  --on  thr 
hill.-i,  and  over  the  river  bottoms,  in  tough,  twisted,  wiry  ch^.nps  ;  and, 
wherever  the  beaten  track  was  left,  the)- rendered  the  progress  of  the  carts 
rough  and  slow.  .As  the  country  increased  in  elevation  on  our  advance 
to  the  west,  they  increaseil  in  size  ;  and  x\w.  whole  air  is  strongly  imprcg;- 
nated  and  saturated  with  the  odor  of  camphor  and  spirits  of  turpentinf 
which  belongs  to  this  plant.  This  climate  has  been  foun<l  v(_:ry  favorable 
to  the  restoration  of  health,  particularl)'  in  cases  of  consumption  ;  and  pos- 
sibly the  respiration  of  air  so  highly  impregnated  by  aromatic  plants  tiiay 
have  some  influence. 

Our  drietl  meat  had  given  out,  and  we  began  to  be  in  want  of  food  ;  hut 
one  of  the  hunters  killed  an  antelope  this  evening,  which  afforded  some 
relief,  although  it  did  not  go  far  among  so  many  hungry  men.  At  eight 
o'clock  at  night,  after  a  march  of  twenty-seven  miles,  we  reached  our  pro- 
posed encampment  on  the  Fcr-a-Clieral,  or  Morse-shoe  Cn^^k.  Here  we 
foimd  good  grass,  with  a  great  cpiantity  of  pyclc,  which  furnished  good 


\  4  ' 


\n\ 


hFRST  EXPEOrriON—TNDJ A X  ALARM. 


rass  IS 
(J  row  til 


-oil  thi^ 


lie  cart- 
i(l\anr' 


food  for  our  tired  animals.  This  creek  is  well  timbered,  principally  with 
Hard  am'cre,  and,  with  the  exception  of  Deer  Creek,  which  we  had  not  yet 
reached,  is  the  largest  affluent  of  the  right  bank  between  Laramie  and  the 
mouth  of  the  Sweet  Water. 

Jh/v  2yt  -T\\c  present  year  had  been  one;  of  unparalleled  drought, 
and  thnnighout  the  countr\'  the  water  had  been  almost  dried  up.  By 
availin'T  themselves  of  the  annual  rise,  the  traders  hail  invariably  succeeded 
ill  carrving  their  furs  to  the  Missouri ;  but  this  season,  as  has  already  been 
nieiitioiicd,  on  both  forks  of  the  I'latte  they  had  entirely  fniled.  The 
•  Teater  number  of  the  springs,  anil  many  tjf  the  streams,  which  made  lu.'t 
in<''-placcs  for  the  voyageurs,  had  been  dried  up.  Everywhere  the  so'i 
looked  parched  and  burnt ;  the  scanty  yellow  grass  crisped  under  the 
foot,  and  even  the  hardiest  plants  wert'  destroyed  liy  want  of  moisture.  [ 
thinlc  it  necessary  to  mention  this  fact,  because  to  the  rapid  eva[)oration  in 
such  ail  el'jvated  region,  nearly  tive  thousand  f(!et  above  the  sea,  almost 
wholly  unprotected  by  timi)er,  should  be  attributed  much  of  the  sterile 
appearance  of  the  country,  in  the  destruction  of  vegetation,  a. id  the  nii- 
inerous  saline  efllorescences  which  covered  the  ground.  Such  I  afterward 
found  to  be  the  case. 

I  was  informed  that  the  roving  villages  of  Indians  and  travellers  had 
never  met  with  difficulty  in  finding  an  abundance  of  grass  for  their  horses  ; 
and  now  it  was  after  great  search  that  we  were  able  to  find  a  scanty  pate  li 
of  yrass,  sufficient  to  keep  them  from  sinking';  and  in  the  course  of  a  day 
or  two  they  began  to  suffer  ver\-  much.  We  found  iiom,'  to-day  at  noon  ; 
and  in  the  course  of  our  search  on  the  I'latte,  came  to  a  grove  of  cotton- 
wood  where  some  Indian  village  had  recently  encamped.  Boughs  of  the 
rottoii-wood,  yet  green,  covered  the  ground,  which  the  !  ulians  had  cut  down 
to  teed  their  horses  upon.  It  is  only  in  the  winter  th..l  recourse  is  had 
to  this  means  of  sustaining  them  ;  and  their  riisoit  to  it  at  this  time  was  a 
striking  (evidence  of  th(?  state  of  the  country.  We  followed  their  e.xample, 
;  nd  turned  our  horses  into  a  gro\  e  of  young  poplars.  This  be-gan  to  pre- 
sent itscif  as  a  very  serious  evil,  lor  on  our  animals  depended  altogether 
the  further  prosecution  o(  our  journey. 

Shortly  atU'r  we  had  left  this  place,  the  scouts  came  galloping  in  with 
the  alarm  of  Intlians.  We  turned  in  immediately  toward  the  river,  whicii 
here  had  ;i  stee[)  high  l)ank,  where  we  formed  with  the  carts  a  very  close 
harricadt:,  resting  on  the  river,  within  which  the  animals  were  stron^dy 
hobbled  and  picketed.  The  guns  were  discharged  ami  reloaded,  and  men 
thrown  forward,  under  cover  of  the  bank,  in  tht  direction  by  which  the 
Indians  were  e.xpected.  Our  interpreter,  who,  with  tli€  Indian,  had  gone 
loineet  them,  came  in,  in  about  ten  niiiuit(;s,  accompanied  by  two  .Sioux. 
They  looked  sulky,  and  we  could  obtain  from  them  only  some  confused 


■'    f'm 


\     i 


!*        I 


126 


jr/':.\roiRs  or  my  f.iFi'.—joiiN  charlj'.s  FnfiMONT. 


V 


if 


information.  Wr  leariK.'il  that  they  belonginl  to  the  party  wliich  had  been 
(HI  tlu;  trail  oflhi,'  emigrants,  whom  they  had  overtaken  at  Rock  Indepen- 
dence, on  the  Sweet  Water.  1  lere  tlie  party  liad  disagreed,  and  came  niir'n 
fighting  among  themselves.  One  portif)n  were  desirous  of  attacking  tiie 
w  hites,  but  the  others  were  t)pposed  to  it ;  and  finally  they  had  broken  iiu 
into  small  bands,  and  disperseil  over  the  country.  The  greater  portion  of 
•Jiem  had  gone  over  into  the  territory  of  the  Crows,  and  inte-nded  to  re- 
turn by  waj-  of  the  W'iiul  River  \'alley,  in  the  hope  of  being  able  to  fall 
upon  some  small  parties  of  Crow  Indians.  The  remainder  were  returnin;' 
down  the  Phute,  in  scattered  parties  often  and  twenty  ;  and  those  whom 
we  had  encountered  belonged  to  tlu;  party  who  had  ailvocated  an  attack  on 
the  emigrants.  Several  of  the  mm  suggested  shooting  them  on  the  spot; 
but  I  prom[iLl\-  discountenanced  any  such  proceetling.  They  further  in- 
formed me  that  buffalo  were  m  ry  scarce,  and  little  or  no  grass  to  be  found. 
There  had  been  no  rain,  and  innumerable  quantities  of  grasshoppers  hail 
destroyed  the  grass.  Thi-  insect  had  been  so  numerous  since  leavintj 
l''ort  Laramie,  that  the-  gnnmd  seemed  alive  with  them  ;  and  in  walking', 
a  I'ttle  moving  cloud  preceded  our  footsteps.  This  was  bad  news.  No 
grass,  no  buffalo  -food  for  neitlun-  horse  nor  man.  I  gave  them  some 
plugs  of  tobacco,  and  the\  went  off,  apparently  well  satisfied  to  be 
clear  of  us  ;  for  my  nu'n  diil  not  look  ujjon  them  very  lovingly,  and 
they  glanced  suspiciously  at  our  warlike  jjreparations,  and  the  little  rini; 
of  rifles  which  surrounded  them.  They  were  evidenti)  in  a  bad  luinior 
and  shot  one  of  their  horses  when  they  had  left  us  a  short  distance. 

We  continued  our  march,  and,  after  a  journey  of  about  twenty-one 
miles,  encamped  on  the  Platte.  During  the  da\'  I  had  occasionally  re 
marked  amonsjf  the  hills  the  J'soralca  csculciita,  the  bread-root  of  the  In 
diaii.^.  The  Sioux  use  this  root  very  extensively,  and  I  have  frequently 
met  with  it  among  them,  cut  into  thin  slices  ami  dried.  In  the  course  of 
the  ev(;nirg  we  wee  visitetl  by  six  Indians,  who  told  us  that  a  larger  party 
was  encampe'l  a  few  miles  above.  Ast'onomical  observations  placed  us  in 
longitude  104'  59   59  ',  and  latitude  ^2    39'  25". 

We  made  the  next  day  twenty-two  miles,  and  encamped  on  the  ri;.;iit 
])aidv  of  the  Platte,  where  a  handsome'   meadow  afforded  tolerably  good 
grass.      Ther(;  were  the  remains  of  an  old  fijrt  here,  thrown  up  in  some 
sudden  emergency,   and  on  the  opposite   side  was  a  picturesqut;  bluff  et 
ferruginous   sandstone.      There  was  a  handsome  grove  a  little  abo\  e,  ,1:1 
scattered  groups  of  trees  bordered  the  river.      Buffalo  matle  their  app 
aiice  this  afternoon,  and  the  Inmters  came  in,   shortly  after   we  hail  eii 
camped,  with  three  fine  cows.       The  night  was  fine,  and  observations  gave 
for  the  latitude  of  the  canij>.  42    .17'  40". 

jnly  2^t/i.     We  made  but  thirteen  miles  this  clay,  and  encamped  about 


Af 


FIRST  EXPEDirrOX-D EKK  CRF.llK. 


127 


noon  in  a  pleasant  grove  on  the  right  bank.  Low  scaffolds  were  erected, 
upon  which  the  meat  was  laid,  cut  up  into  thin  strips,  and  small  tires 
kiiulled  below.  Our  object  was  to  profit  by  the  vicinity  of  the  buffalo,  to 
l;i\-  in  a  slock  of  provisions  for  tiMi  or  fifteen  days.  In  the  course  of  the 
atU'rnoon  the  hunters  brought  in  five  or  six  cows,  and  all  hands  were  kept 
ilu^lil\■  employed  in  preparing  the  meat,  to  the  drying  of  which  the  guard 
aUended  during  the  night.  Our  people  had  recovered  their  gayety,  and 
t!u;  Inis)'  figures  around  the  blazing  fires  gave  a  picturesque  air  to  the 
cami).  A  very  serious  accident  occurred  this  morning,  in  the  breaking  of 
(Hie  (if  the  barometers.  These  had  been  th(;  object  of  ni_\'  constant  solici- 
tude, and,  as  I  had  intended  tliem  principally  for  mountain  service,  '  had 
used  them  as  seldom  as  possible  ;  taking  them  always  down  at  night  and 
on  the  occurrence  of  storms,  in  order  to  lessen  the  chances  of  being  broken. 
[  was  reduced  to  one,  a  standard  barometer  of  Troughton's  construction. 
This  I  detenninid  to  prescrxe,  if  possible.  I'he  latitude  is  .} .  51'  35  , 
and  by  a  mean  of  the  resulLS  from  chronometer  and  lunar  distances,  the 
adopted  longitude  of  this  camp  is  105°  50'  45". 

July  26///. — Early  thi  '>rning  we  were  again  in  motion.  We  had  a 
^lock  of  provisions  for  fift  •  .aNs  carefully  stored  away  in  the  carts,  and 
tlii.  1  resolved  should  only  be  encroached  upon  when  our  rifles  should  fail 
10  procure  us  present  support.  I  determined  to  1  each  the  mountains,  if  ii 
were  in  any  way  possible.  In  the  meantime  buftalo  were  plenty.  In  si.\ 
miles  from  our  encampment  (which,  by  way  of  distinction,  we  shall  call 
Dried  Meat  Caeip)  we  crossed  a  handsome  stream,  <  ailed  La  Fonrchc 
Boiscc.  It  is  well  timbered,  and.  among  the  flowers  in  bloom  on  its  banks, 
I  reniarkeil  several  asters. 

h'ive  miles  farther  we  made  our  noon  ^alt,  on  the;  banks  of  the  Platte, 
in  the  siiade  of  soine  cotton- woods.  There  were  h(;re,  as  generally  now 
ilong  the  river,  thickets  of  hippopkacc,  the  ^^rat us  de  breuf  o^  the  country. 
They  were  of  two  kinds  —one  bearing  a  red  berr)'  (the  Sheplicrdia  arj^cn- 
/,,r  of  Nuttall)  ;  the  other  a  yellow  berry,  of  which  the  Tartars  are  said  to 
make  a  kind  of  rob. 

r>y  a  meridian  observation,  the  latitude  of  the  place  was  42  y^l  08". 
It  \v,is  my  daily  practice  to  take  oliservations  of  the  sun's  meridian  alti- 
t'ldo  ;  and  why  they  are  not  given  will  appear  in  the  sequel.  I'.ight  miles 
l.irther  w('  reached  the  mouth  of  Deer  Creek,  whe're  we  eneanqied.  1  If.re 
vas  an  abundance  of  rich  gra-is,  and  our  .animals  were  compensated  for 
past  privations.  This  stream  w.is  at  this  time  twenty  iet:t  broad,  and  well 
timbered  with  cotton-wood  of  an  uneonunon  size.  It  is  the  largest  tribu- 
tary of  th(!  Platte  between  the  mouth  of  the  Swe<:t  Water  and  the  Laramie. 
Our  astronomical  obsevations  gave  for  the  mouth  of  the  stream  a  longi- 
tude of  106'  08'  24'',  and  latitude  42    52'  24". 


"     t 


l!: 


I  !i 


n 


128 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  TJFP.—JOIIX  ClfARLF.S  FRKMOXT. 


July  27M.— Nothing  worthy  of  mention  occurred  on  this  day  ;  we  trav- 
elled later  than  usual,  having  spent  some  time  in  searching  lor  grass, 
crossing  and  recrossing  the  river  before  we  could  find  a  sufficient  quan- 
tity for  our  animals.  Toward  dusk,  we  encamped  among  some  arteniisia 
bushes,  two  and  three  feet  in  height,  where  some  scattered  patches  of  short, 
tough  grass  affor'led  a  scanty  supply.  In  crossing,  we  had  occasion  to 
observe  that  the  river  was  frequently  too  dee[)  to  be  forded,  though  we 
always  succeeded  in  finding  a  place  where  the  water  did  not  enter  the 
carts.  The  stream  continued  very  clear,  with  two  or  three  hundred  feet 
breadth  of  water,  and  the  sandy  bed  and  banks  were  frequently  covered 
with  large  round  pebbles.  We  had  travelled  this  day  twenty-seven  miles. 
The  main  chain  of  the  IJlack  Mills  was  here  only  about  seven  miles  to  the 
south,  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river,  rising  abruptly  to  the  height  of  eii^rht 
and  twelve  hundred  feet.  Patches  of  green  grass  in  the  ravines  on  the 
steep  sides  marked  the  presence  of  springs,  and  the  summits  were  clad 
with  pines. 

ynly  28///. — In  two  miles  from  our  encampment  we  reached  the  place 
where  the  regular  road  crosses  the  Platte.  There  was  two  hundred  feel 
breadth  of  water  at  this  time  in  the  bed,  which  has  a  variable  width  of 
eight  to  fifteen  hundretl  feet.  The  channels  were  generally  three  feet 
dee^j,  and  there  were  large  angular  rocks  on  the  bottom,  which  made  the 
ford  in  some  places  a  little  difficult.  K\en  at  its  low  stages  this  river  can- 
not be  crossetl  at  random,  and  this  has  alwaj-s  been  used  as  the  b(;stfor(l. 
The  low  stage  of  the  waters  the  present  year  had  made  it  fordable  in 
almost  any  part  of  its  course,  where  access  could  be  had  to  its  bed. 

For  the  satisfaction  of  travellers,  I  will  endeavor  to  give;  some  descrip- 
tion of  the  nature  of  the  road  from  Laramie  to  this  point.  The  nature  ot 
the  soil  may  be  inferred  from  its  geological  formation.  The  limestone  at 
the  eastern  limit  of  this  secticMi  is  succeeded  !)y  limestone  without  fossils, 
a  great  variety  of  sandstone,  consisting  iirinci]ially  of  red  sandstone  and 
fine  conglomerates.  The  red  sandstone  is  argillaceous,  with  conipan 
white  gypsum  or  alabaster,  very  beautifid.  The  other  sandstones  are 
gray,  yellow,  and  ferruginous,  sometimes  very  coarse.  The  apparent  ste- 
rility of  the  country  must  therefore  be  sought  for  in  other  causes  than  the 
nature  of  the  soil.  Tlu'  f  ice  of  the  country  cannot  with  propriety  be  called 
hilly.  It  is  a  succession  of  long  rid  :es,  mad<^  by  the  numerous  stream^ 
which  come  tlown  fi-om  the  neighboring  mountain  range.  The  ridge> 
have  an  undulating  surface,  with  some  such  appearance  as  the  ocean  pn  - 
sents  in  an  ordinary  breeze. 

The  road  which  \i\  now  generally  followed  through  this  region  i^ 
therefore,  a  very  good  one,  without  any  difficult  ascents  to  overconi-, 
The  principal  obstructions  are  near  the  river,  where  the  transient  waters 


;1 


.1     ' 


1-IKS  r  KXPEDITION—  DISC  OUR  A  GIXG  lyfOJiMA  TION. 


129 


of  heavy  rains  have  made  deep  ravines  with  steep  banks,  which  render 
frequent  circuits  necessary.  It  will  he  remembered  that  wagons  pass  this 
road  onlv  onc<>  or  twice  a  year,  which  is  by  no  means  sufficient  to  break 
clown  the  stubborn  roots  of  the  innumerable;  artemisia  ])ushes.  A  partial 
absence  of  these  is  often  the  only  indication  of  tlu;  track;  and  the  rough- 
ness produced  by  their  roots  in  many  places  giv(;s  the  road  the  character 
of  one  newly  opened  in  a  wooded  coinUr\-.  This  is  usually  considered 
the  worst  part  of  the  road  east  of  the  mountains  ;  muX,  as  it  pass(;s  througli 
an  open  prairie  region,  may  Ix;  much  improved,  so  as  to  avoid  the  greater 
part  of  the  inequalities  it  now  i)resents. 

I'Vom  the  mouth  of  the  Kansas  to  the  Green  River  valley,  west  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  there  is  no  .uch  thing  as  a  mountain  road  on  the  line  of 
communication. 

We  continued  our  way,  antl  about  four  miles  lieyond  the  ford  Indians 
were  discovered  again  ;  and  I  halted  wdiile  a  party  were  sent  forward  to 
ascertain  who  they  were.  In  a  short  time  they  returnetl,  accompanied  by 
a  number  of  Indians  of  the  Oglallah  Ijand  of  Sioux.  From  them  we  re- 
ceived s(jnie  interesting  information.  They  hail  formed  part  of  the  great 
village,  which  they  informed  us  had  broken  up,  anil  was  on  its  way  home. 
The  greater  part  of  the  village,  including  the  .\rapah(.)es,  Cheyennes,  and 
Oglallahs,  had  crossed  the  Platte  eight  or  ten  miles  below  the  mouth  of 
the  Sweet  Water,  ami  were  now  behind  th(^  mountains  to  the  south  of  us, 
iiucmling  to  regain  the  Platte  byway  of  Deer  Creek.  They  had  taken 
this  uiuisual  route  in  search  of  grass  and  game.  They  gave  us  a  very  dis- 
couraging picture  of  the  country.  The  great  drought,  and  the  plagr.e  of 
grasshoppers,  IkuI  swept  it  so  that  scarce  a  blade  of  grass  was  to  be  seen, 
and  there  was  not  a  buffalo  to  be  found  in  the  wdiole  region.  Their  peo- 
pjiv  they  furth'r  said,  had  bec;n  nearly  starved  to  ileath,  and  we  would 
find  their  road  marked  by  lodges  which  the}'  had  thrown  away  in  order 
to  move  more;  ra|)idly,  and  bv  the  carcasses  of  the  horses  wdiich  thev  had 
laten,  or  which  had  perished  by  starvation.  .Such  was  the  prospect  be- 
tore  us. 

When  he  had  fuiished  the  interpretation  of  these  things,  Mr.  Bissonette 
imiiieiliately  rode  up  to  me,  and  urgently  advised  that  1  should  entirely 
abandon  the  further  prosecution  of  my  e.xploration.  "  /.<•  Dicillcur  avis 
ijiii'  jr  pourrais  vous  doinicv,  ccsf  dc  vircr  dc  siiilc'  "  The  best  acU'ice  I 
I'an  give  you,  is  to  turn  back  at  once."  It  w,t<  his  own  inteiiti(Mi  to  return, 
a  we  had  now  reached  the  point  to  which  he  hail  engaged  to  attend  me. 
In  reply,  |  railed  up  mv  men,  and  commcinicatod  to  them  fully  the  informa- 
tion I  had  just  received.  I  then  expifsscd  to  them  my  tlxed  determina- 
tion to  proceed  to  the  end  of  the  enterprise  mi  which  1  had  been  sent  :  but 
IS  the  situation  of  the  country  gave  mc  some  reason  to  apprehend  that  it 


rl   I 


I 


:['';  \ 


ii    : 


1!; 

il 

i 

'Jf 


MlUrOfliS  OF  MY  l.ll'F.—JOirX  ClfARl  r.S  FA'HAfO.Vr. 


might  be  attended  with  an  unfortunate  result  to  some  of  us,  I  would  leu.: 
it  optional  with  them  to  contini;e  with  me  or  to  return. 

Among  them  wc^e  some  five  or  six  who  I  knew  would  remain.  \\V 
had  still  ten  days'  |)rovisioiis  ;  and,  should  no  :;anie  l)e  found,  when  ihi; 
stock  was  e.xpeiided,  W(!  had  our  horses  and  mules,  which  we  roiild  ca: 
when  othe"  means  of  subsi.-.tenc<?  fail(:tt.  But  not  a  man  llinched  from  the 
undertaking.  "  W'e  11  eaL  ihe  mules,"  said  Basil  Lajeunesse  ;  and.  there- 
upon  wc  shook  hands  with  our  interpreter  and  his  Indians,  and  parted. 
With  them  I  sent  back  one  of  my  men,  Dumes,  whom  the  effects  of  an  olil 
wound  in  the  leg  rendered  incapable  of  continuing  the;  journey  on  foot,  and 
his  horse  seemed  on  the;  point  of  giving  out.  I  laving  resolved  to  disencum- 
ber ourselves  immediately  of  everything  not  absolutely  necessary  to  our  fu- 
ture operations,  I  turned  directly  in  toward  the  river,  ami  encamped  on  the 
left  bank,  a  little  above  the  place  where  our  council  had  been  held,  and  where 
a  thick  gro\-e  of  willows  offered  a  suitabU;  spot  for  tiie  object  I  had  in  view. 

The  carts  having  b(;en  discharged,  the  co\-ers  ami  wheels  were  taken 
off,  and,  with  the  frames,  carrietl  into  some  low  places  among  the  willi  \vs, 
and  conceal(;d  in  the  dense  folia<je  in  such  a  manner  that  the  <,ditter  of  the 
iron-work  might  not  attract  the  observation  of  some  straggling  Indian. 
In  the  sand,  which  ha<l  been  blown  up  into  wa\es  among  the  willows,  a 
large  hole  was  then  dug,  ten  feet  square  and  six  deep.  In  the  nutantime 
all  our  eltects  had  been  spread  out  upon  the  ground,  a.ul  whatever  was 
designed  to  be  carried  along  with  us  separated  and  laid  aside,  and  the  re- 
maining p-.  r  c.i'-ried  to  the  hole  and  carefully  covered  up.  As  much  a.; 
possible,  al  traces  of  our  [jroc<;cdings  were;  obliterated,  and  il  wanted  hut 
a  rain  u>  rentier  our  cac/ie  safe  beyond  dis<x>very.  .All  th.e  men  were  now 
set  at  work  to  arrange  the  pack-saddles  and  make  up  the  packs. 

The  da)-  was  very  warm  and  calm,  and  the  sk\  entin  ly  clear,  except 
where,  as  usual  along  the  summits  oi  the  mountainous  ridge  opposite,  thf^ 
clouds  had  congregated  in  masses.  Our  lodge  had  been  planted,  and,  ■ 
account  ot  the  heat,  the  ground-pins  had  been  taken  out.  and  the  lower 
part  slightly  raised.  Near  to  it  was  staniling  the  barometer,  which  swuiii,; 
in  a  tri[)od  frame  ;  and  within  the  lodge,  where  a  small  fire  had  been  built, 
Mr.  IVeuss  was  occu[iied  in  observing  the  temtjHirature  of  U>ilmg  water. 
At  this  instant,  ami  wtthout  .my  warning,  wntil  it  was  within  fifty  yards,  a 
violent  gus:r  ol  wind  daslied  down  the  lodtg-e,  burying  umler  it  Mr.  Preuss 
and  about  a  dozen  mi-n  who  had  attempted  to  kee()  it  from  being  carried 
away.  I  succeeded  in  saving  the  barometei,  which  thi"  lodge  was  curv- 
ing otf  with  it.sclf,  but  the  5ilermom>e't:er  %'.His  brovfcea.  Wo  had  no  otlnir- 
of  a  high  .^aduatioa.  ai*B*e  of  those  wh'toh  remained  going  higher  tlian 
1.^5  Fahri^nheit.  Our  as«ironc*mJcal  <ibservati<:>nsga\e  to  this  place,  wliich 
we  named  Cick^  £Axn^\.  a  loncir-  Je  ot  ivX)    38'  26'    latitude  4:;"  w   53". 


//A'.sr  Exri-.nfrroN—^WKKT  watek  iuver. 


131 


Julv  29///. — All  our  arrangements  having  l:)een  completed,  we  left  the 
encampment  at  seven  o'clock  this  morning.  In  this  vicinity  the  ordinary 
road  leaves  the  Platte,  and  crosses  over  to  the  S\vei-t  W'.iter  River,  wliich 
it  strikes  near  Rock  Independence.  Instead  of  following  this  road,  1  had 
ilctcrmined  to  keep  the  immediate  valley  of  the  Platte  so  fur  as  the  mouth 
of  the  Sweet  Water,  in  the  expectation  of  finding  better  grass.  To  this  I 
na.s  further  prompted  by  the  nature  of  my  instructions.  To  Mr.  Carson 
vas  assigned  the  office  of  guide,  as  we  had  now  reached  a  part  of  the 
couiitrv  with  which,  or  a  great  part  of  which,  long  residence  had  made 
hin;  familiar.  In  a  few  miles  we  reached  the  Red  Ruttes,  a  famous  land- 
mark in  this  country,  whose  geological  composition  is  red  sandstone,  linie- 
slonc,  and  calcareous  sandstone  ami  pudding-stone. 

The  river  here  cuts  its  wa\-  througli  a  ridge;  on  the  eastern  side  of  it 
are  the  lofty  escarpments  of  red  argillaceous  sandstone  which  are  called 
till'  Red  liuttes.  In  this  passage  the  stream  is  not  much  compressed  or 
neiit  up,  there  being  a  bank  of  consideralile  though  variable  breadth  on 
cither  side.  Immediately  on  entering,  w  disccnered  a  l)and  of  Iniffalo. 
Thi'  hunters  failed  to  kill  any  of  them  ;  the  leading  hunter  being  thrown 
into  a  ravine,  which  occasioned  some  delay,  and  in  the;  meantime  the  herd 
clambered  up  the  steep  face  of  the  ridge.  It  is  sometimes  wonderful  to 
see  these  apparently  clumsy  animals  make  their  way  up  and  down  the 
most  rugged  and  broken  precipices.  We  halted  to  noon  before  wc  had 
(.'Icared  this  passage,  at  a  spot  twelve  miles  distant  from  Cache  Camp,  where 
we  found  an  abundance  of  grass.  So  far,  the  account  of  the  Intlians  was 
found  to  be  fiilse.  On  the  banks  were  willow  and  cherry-trees.  The 
cherries  were  not  yet  ripe,  but  in  the  thickets  were  numerous  fresh  tracks 
of  the  grizzly  bear,  which  are  very  fond  of  this  fruit.  The  soil  here  is  red, 
the  composition  being  derived  from  the  red  sandstone.  About  seven 
miles  brought  us  through  the  ridge,  in  which  the  course  of  the  river  is  north 
and  south.  Here  the  valley  opens  out  broadiy,  and  high  walls  of  the  red 
formation  present  themselves  among  th(;  hills  to  th(;  east.  Wc  crossed 
here  a  pretty  little  creek,  an  afBiuuit  of  the  right  bank.  It  is  well  timbered 
with  cotton-wood  in  this  vicinity,  and  the  absinthe  has  lost  its  shrublike 
ch.iracter,  ami  becomes  small  trees  si.\  and  eight  feet  in  height,  and  some- 
times  eight  inches  in  iliameter.  Two  or  three  miles  above  this  creek  we 
made  our  encampment,  having  travelled  to-day  twenty-five  miles.  Our 
.animals  fared  wc'U  here,  as  there  is  an  abundance  of  grass.  The  river  bed 
Is  madi'  u[^  of  [)ebbles,  and  in  the  bank,  at  the  If-vel  of  the  water,  is  a  con  - 
.i;lomerate  of  coarse  pebbles  al.iout  the  size  of  ostrich-eggs,  and  which  I 
rrmarktxl  in  the  banks  of  the  Laramie  b'ork.  h  is  overlaid  by  a  soil  of 
"nixed  c'av  and  sand,  six  feet  thick.  Hv  astronomical  observa'ions  our 
wtsition  is  in  longitude  106    54'  32",  and  latitutle  42    38'. 


•  i-nS 


132 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRI-IMONT. 


m 


1     :r 


PlIiMH 


July  30/"//. --After  travelling  about  twelve  miles  this  niornin_fj,  we 
reached  a  place  where  the  Indian  village  had  crossed  the  river,  litre 
were  the  poles  of  discarded  lodges  and  skeletons  of  horses  lying  about. 
Mr.  Carson,  who  had  never  been  higher  up  than  this  point  on  the  river, 
which  has  the  character  of  being  e.xceedingly  rugged,  and  walled  in  In 
precipices  above,  thought  it  ad\  isable  to  camp  near  this  place,  where  wt; 
were  certain  of  obtaining  grass,  and  to-morrow  make  our  crossing  aiiioiv 
the  ruggt  1  hills  to  the  Sweet  Water  River,  .\ccordingly,  we  turned  hack 
and  descended  the  river  to  an  island  near  by,  which  was  about  tweiitv 
acres  in  size,  covered  with  a  luxuriant  growth  of  grass.  The  formation  lure 
I  found  highly  interesting.  Immediately  at  this  island  the  river  is  again 
shut  up  in  the  rugged  hills,  which  come  down  to  it  from  the  main  ridge  in 
a  succession  of  spurs  three  or  four  hundred  feet  high,  and  alternated  with 
green,  level  prairillons  or  mead.ows,  bordered  on  the  river  banks  with 
thickets  of  willow,  and  having  man\'  plants  to  interest  the  traveller.  The 
island  lies  between  two  of  the  ridges,  three  or  four  hundred  yards  apart, 
of  which  that  on  the  right  bank  is  compos(;d  entirely  of  red  argillaceous 
sandstone,  with  thin  layers  of  iibrous  gypsum.  On  the  left  bank,  the  ridge 
is  composed  entirely  of  silicious  pudding-stone,  the  pebbles  in  the  numer- 
ous strata  increasing  in  size  from  the  top  to  the  bottom,  where  the)'  are  a^ 
large  as  a  man's  head.  So  far  as  I  was  abh-  to  determine,  these  strata  iri- 
cliue  to  the  northeast,  with  a  dip  of  about  fifteen  degrees.  This  pudding 
stone,  or  conglomerate  fornialion,  I  was  enabled  to  trace  through  an  ex- 
tended range  of  country,  from  a  few  miles  east  of  the  meridian  of  hort 
Laramit'  to  where  I  lound  it  superposed  on  the  granite;  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, in  longitude  109^.  I'Vom  its  appearance,  the  main  chain  of  the  Lara- 
mie Mountain  is  composed  of  this  rock;  and  in  a  number  of  places  I  found 
isolated  hills,  which  served  to  mark  a  former  level,  which  had  been  proba- 
bly swept  away. 

These  conglomerates  are  very  friable,  and  easily  decomposed;  and  I 
am  inclined  to  think  this  formation  is  the  source  from  which  was  derived 
the  great  deposit  of  sand  and  gravel  which  forms  the  surface  rock  of  the 
prairie  country  west  ol  the  INIississippi. 

Crossing  the  ridge  of  red  sandstone,  and  traversing  the  little  prairie 
which  lies  to  the  southward  of  it,  we  made  in  the  afternoon  an  excursion 
to  a  place  which  we  have  called  the  Hot  Spring  Gate.  This  place  lias 
much  the  appearance  of  a  gate,  by  which  the  Platte  passes  through  a  rid-e 
composed  of  a  white  and  calcareous  sandstone.  The  length  of  the  i)as- 
sage  is  about  four  hundred  yards,  with  a  smooth,  green  prairie  on  either 
side.  Through  this  place  the  stream  flows  with  a  quiet  current,  unbroken 
by  any  rapid,  and  Is  about  seventy  yards  wide  between  the  walls,  which 
rise  perpendicularly  from  the  water.     To  that  on  the  right  bank,  which  is 


FIRST  EXPEDITION— GOA  T  ISLAND. 


m 


the  lower,  the  barometer  gave  a  height  of  three  hundred  and  sixty  feet. 
Vnnexed  is  a  view  of  this  place,  which  will  be  more  particularly  described 
hereafter,  as  we  passed  through  it  on  our  return. 

W'e  saw  here  numerous  herds  of  mountain  sheep,  and  frequently  heard 
the  vdlley  of  rattling  stones  which  accompanied  their  rapid  descent  down 
the  stec  [)  liills.  This  was  the  first  place  at  which  we  had  killed  any  of 
these  animals  ;  and,  in  consequence  of  thk  circumstance,  and  of  the  abun- 
ilance  of  these  sheep  or  goats  (for  they  are  called  by  each  name),  we  gave 
to  our  encampment  the  name  of  Goat  Island.  Their  flesh  is  much  es- 
teemed by  the  hunters,  and  has  very  much  the  flavor  of  the  Alleghany 
Mountain  shee|).  I  have  seen  a  horn  of  this  animal  three  feet  long  and 
seventeen  inches  in  circumference  at  the  base,  weighing  eleven  poimds. 
But  two  or  three  -of  these  were  killed  by  our  party  at  this  place,  and  of 
these  the  horns  were  small.  The  use  of  these  horns  seems  to  be  to  pro- 
tect the  animal's  head  in  pitching  down  precipices  to  avoid  pursuing 
wolves — their  only  safety  being  in  places  where  they  cannot  be  followed. 
The  bones  are  very  strong  and  solid,  the  marrow  occupying  but  a  very 
small  ])ortion  of  the  bone  in  the  leg,  about  the  thickness  of  a  rye  straw. 
The  liair  is  short,  resembling  the  winter  color  of  our  common  deer,  which 
it  nearly  approaches  in  size  and  appearance.  Except  in  the  horns,  it  has 
110  roseniblance  whatever  to  the  goa:.  The  longitude  of  this  place,  result- 
ing from  chronometer  and  lunar  distances,  and  an  occultation  off  Arietis, 
is  107^  13'  29",  and  the  latitude  42'  33'  27".  One  of  our  horses,  which  had 
L^iven  out,  we  Isft  to  recover  strength  on  the  island,  intending  to  take  her, 
perhaps,  on  our  return. 

July  }^\st. — This  morning  we  left  the  course  of  the  Platte,  to  cross 
over  to  the  Sweet  Water.  Our  way,  for  a  few  miles,  lay  up  the  sandy  bed 
of  a  dry  creek,  in  which  I  found  several  interesting  plants.  Leaving  this, 
we  wound  our  way  to  the  summit  of  the  hills,  of  which  the  peaks  are  here 
eight  hundred  feet  above  the  Platte,  bare  and  rocky.  A  long  and  gradual 
slope  led  from  these  hills  to  the  Sweet  Water,  which  we  reached  in  fifteen 
miles  from  Goat  Island.  I  made  an  early  encampment  here,  in  order  to 
i,nve  the  hunters  an  opportunity  to  procure  a  supply  from  several  bands  of 
bulTalo  which  made  their  appearance  in  the  valley  near  by.  The  stream 
here  is  about  sixty  feet  wide,  and  at  this  time  twelve  to  eighteen  inches 
deep,  \iith  a  very  moderate  current. 

The  adjoining  prairies  are  sand\-,  but  the  immediate  river  bottom  is  a 
ijood  soil,  which  afforded  an  abundance  of  soft  green  grass  to  our  horses, 
and  where  I  found  a  variety  of  interesting  plants,  which  made  their  ap- 
pearance for  the  first  time.  A  rain  to-night  made  it  unpleasantly  cokl  ; 
and  there  was  no  tree  here  to  enable  us  to  pitch  our  single  tent,  the 
l>oles  of  which   had  been  left  at    Cache    Camp.     We    had,  therefore  no 


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.I/A.IA'/A'.V  ()/■■  .1/)'  /.//■■/•,— /(V/.\-  (■//. //iV.A.V  I'KI-.MOX r. 


shelter  except  what  was  to  be  found  under  cover  of  the  absinthe  bushes, 
which  grew  in  many  thick  patches,  one  or  two,  and  sonietime;^  three  ftet 
high. 

x4ugHst  \st.  -The  hunters  went  ahead  this  morning,  as  buffalo  appeared 
toh'rably  abundant,  and  I  was  desirous  to  secure  a  small  stock  of  im.- 
visions ;  we  moved  about  seven  miles  up  the  valley,  antl  encamijed  ont^ 
mile  below  Rock  Independence.  This  is  an  isolated  granite  rock,  about 
six  hundred  and  iifly  jards  long,  and  fort)-  in  height.  F.xcept  in  a  de- 
pression of  the  summit,  where  a  litth;  soil  sup|)orts  a  scanty  growth  of 
shrubs,  with  a  solitary  dwarf  pine,  it  is  entirely  bare.  Everywhere  v.ithin 
six  or  eight  feet  of  the  ground,  where  the;  surface  is  sufficiently  smooth, 
and  in  some  i)laces  sixty  or  eighty  feet  above,  the  rock  is  inscribed  with 
the  names  of  travellers.  AL'un-  a  name  famous  in  the  history  of  this 
country,  and  some  well  known  to  scienc(!,  are  to  be  found  mixed  amoiii; 
those  of  the  traders  and  of  travellers  for  pleasure  and  curiosity,  and  of 
missionaries  among  the  savages.  .Some  of  these  have  been  washed  away 
b\-  the  rain,  but  the  greater  number  are  still  very  legible.  The  [)osition 
of  this  rock  is  in  longitude  107  26',  latitude  43  29'  36".  We  remain(!d  at 
our  camp  of  August  ist  until  noon  of  the  next  day,  occupied  in  drvin- 
meat.  By  obs'^rvation,  the  longitude  of  the  plac(;  is  107  25'  23",  latitude 
42°  29'  56". 

August  2d.  —Five  miles  above  Rock  Independence  we  came  to  a  place 
called  the  Devil's  Gate,  where  the  .Sweet  Water  cuts  through  the  point  of 
a  granite  ridge.  The  length  of  the  passage  is  about  three  hundred  yards, 
and  the  width  thirty-five  yards.  The  walls  of  rock  are  vertical,  and  about 
four  hundred  feet  in  height ;  and  the  stream  in  the  gate  is  almost  entirely 
choked  up  by  masses  which  have  fallen  from  above.  In  the  wall,  on  the 
right  bank,  is  a  dike  of  trap-rock,  cutting  through  a  fine-grained  gray 
granite.  Near  the  point  of  this  ritlge  crop  out  some  strata  of  the  valley 
formation,  consisting  of  a  grayish  micaceous  sandstone,  and  fine-grained 
conglomerate,  and  marl.  We  encamped  eight  miles  abo\'e  the  Devil's 
Gate,  of  which  a  view  is  given  in  the  accompanying  plate.  There  was  no 
timber  of  any  kind  on  the  river,  but  good  fires  were  made  of  drift-wood, 
aided  by  the  bois  dc  vachc. 

We  had  to-night  no  shelter  from  the  rain,  which  commenced,  with 
squalls  of  wind  about  sunset.  The  country  here  is  exceedingly  ]iictu- 
resque.  On  either  side  of  the  valley,  which  is  four  or  five  miles  broad,  the 
mountains  rise  to  the  height  of  twelve  and  fifteen  hundred  or  two  thou- 
sand feet.  On  the  south  side,  the  range  appears  to  be  timbered,  and  to- 
night is  luminous  widi  fires  -probably  the  work  of  the  Indians,  wdio  have 
just  passed  through  the  valley.  On  the  north,  broken  and  granite?  masses 
rise  abruptly  from  the  greensward  of  the  river,  terminating  in  a  line  of 


/■7KST  EXrEDITIOX—I'lRST  GRI/./.I.Y  AXP  M  AG  I'll:. 


bioktii  siiiiiniits.  ICxccpt  in  the  crevices  of  the  rock,  and  hcrr:  and  there 
on  ;i  l(il"e  or  beiicli  of  tlie  mountain,  where  a  few  hardy  pines  have  clus- 
tered tofnither,  these  are  perfectly  bare  and  destitute  of  veL,'-etation. 

AniDii"'  these  masses,  where  th(.'re  are  sometimes  isolated  hills  and 
riJ"(s,  "Tcen  valleys  open  in  upon  the  river,  which  sweeps  the  l)ase  of 
these  mountains  for  thirty-six  miles,  livery  where  iis  ileep  verdure  and 
nrofiision  of  beautiful  llowers  is  in  pleasini^-  contrast  with  the  sterile 
.'raiideiir  of  the  rock  ami  the  barrenness  of  the  sandy  plain,  which,  from 
the  ri"ht  bank  of  llu:  river,  sweeps  up  to  the  mountain  ran^e  that  forms 
its  southern  bounilar)'.  The  j^reat  evaporation  on  the  sand)-  soil  of  this 
elevated  plain,  and  the  saline  efllorescences  which  whiten  tin;  ,L,^round,  and 
shine  like  li'kes  rellecting  the  sun,  make  a  soil  wholly  unik  for  cultivation. 

^///i,'7/.sV  ,v/.-  We  were  early  on  the  roatl  the  next  morning-,  travellin<,r 
aloii"'  llu;  uplaml  part  of  the  valley,  which  is  ovcr;;r(nvn  with  artemisia. 
Scattered  about  on  the  plain  are  occasional  small  isolated  hills.  One  of 
these,  which  I  examinetl,  about  fifty  feet  hiL^h,  consisted  of  white  clay  and 
marl,  in  nearly  horizontal  strata.  .Several  bands  ot  buffalo  made  their  ap- 
pearance to-day,  with  herds  of  antelope  ;  and  a  grizzly  bear -the  only  one 
we  encountered  during  the  journey  was  seen  scrambling  up  among  the 
rocks.  .\s  we  passed  over  a  slight  rise  near  the  river,  we  caught  the  first 
view  of  the  Wind  River  Mountains,  appearing,  at  this  distance  of  about 
seventy  miles,  to  be  a  low  and  dark  mountainous  ridge.  The  view  dis- 
sipated in  a  moment  the  pictures  which  had  been  created  in  our  minds,  by 
many  descriptions  of  travellers,  who  have  compared  these  mountains  to 
the  .Alps  in  Switzerland,  and  speak  of  the  glittering  peaks  which  rise  in 
icy  majesty  amidst  the  eternal  glaciers  nine  or  ten  thousand  feet  into  the 
region  of  eternal  snows.  The  nakedness  of  the  river  was  relieved  by 
groves  of  willows,  where  we  encamped  at  night,  after  a  march  of  twenty- 
si:,  miles ;  and  numerous  bright-colored  (lowers  had  made  the  river  bot- 
tom look  gay  as  a  garden.  We  found  here  a  horse,  which  had  been  aban- 
doned by  the  Indians  because  his  hoofs  had  been  so  much  worn  that  he 
was  unable  to  travel  ;  and,  during  the  night,  a  dog  came  into  the  camp. 

Aiti^itst  \lh. — Our  camp  was  at  the  foot  of  the  granite  mountains,  which 
we  climbed  this  morning  to  take  some  barometrical  heights  ;  and  here 
among  the  rocks  was  seen  the  first  mag[)i('.  On  our  return,  we  saw  one 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Platte  River.  We  left  here  one  of  our  horses,  which 
was  unable  to  proceed  farther.  A  few  miles  from  the  encampment  we  left 
the  river,  which  makes  a  bend  to  the  south,  and,  traversing  an  undulating 
country,  consisting  of  a  grayish  micaceous  sandstone  and  fine-grained  con- 
,;donieratcs,  struck  it  again,  and  encamped,  after  a  journey  of  twenty-five 
miles.  Astronomical  observations  placed  us  in  latitude  42°  32'  30",  and 
loiioitude  108"  30'  13". 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


August  $ih. — The  morning  was  dark,  with  a  driving  rain,  and  disa- 
greeably cold.  We  continued  our  route  as  usual ;  but  the  weather  be- 
came so  bad  that  we  were  glad  to  avail  ourselves  of  the  shelter  offered  by 
a  small  island,  about  ten  miles  above  our  last  encampment,  which  was  cov- 
ered with  a  dense  growth  of  willows.  There  was  fine  grass  for  our  ani- 
mals, and  the  timber  afforded  us  comfortable  protection  and  good  fires. 
In  the  afternoon  the  sun  broke  through  the  clouds  for  a  short  time,  and 
the  barometer  at  5  I'.m.  was  at  23.713,  the  thermometer  60°,  with  the  wind 
strong  from  the  northwest.  We  availed  ourselves  of  the  fine  weather  to 
make  excursions  in  the  neighborhood.  The  river,  at  this  place,  is  bor- 
dered by  hills  of  the  valley  formation.  They  are  of  moderate  height ;  one 
of  the  highest  peaks  on  the  right  bank  being,  according  to  the  barometer, 
one  hundred  and  eighty  feet  above  the  river.  On  the  left  bank  they  are 
higher.  They  consist  of  a  fine  white  clayey  sandstone,  a  white  calcareous 
sandstone,  and  coarse  sandstone  or  pudding-stone. 

August  6th. — It  continued  steadily  raining  all  the  day ;  but,  notwith- 
standing, we  left  our  encampment  in  the  afternoon.  Our  animals  had  been 
much  refreshed  by  their  repose,  and  an  abundance  of  rich,  soft  grass,  which 
had  been  much  improved  by  the  rains.  In  about  three  miles  we  reached 
the  entrance  of  a  cafion,  where  the  Sweet  Water  issues  upon  the  more 
open  valley  we  had  passed  over.  Immediately  at  the  entrance,  and  super- 
imposed directly  upon  the  granite,  are  strata  of  compact,  calcareous  sand- 
stone and  chert,  alternating  with  hue  white  and  reddish-white,  and  fine 
gray  and  red  sandstones.  These  strata  dip  to  the  eastward  at  an  angle  of 
about  eighteen  degrees,  and  form  the  western  limit  of  the  sand  and  lime- 
stone formations  on  the  line  of  our  route.  Here  we  entered  among  the 
[jrimitive  rocks.  The  usual  road  passes  to  the  right  of  this  place  ;  but  we 
wounc',  or  rather  scrambled,  our  way  up  the  narrow  valley  for  several 
hours.  Wildness  and  disorder  were  the  character  of  this  scenery.  The 
river  had  been  swollen  by  the  late  rains,  and  came  rushing  through  with 
an  impetuous  current,  three  or  four  feet  deej),  and  generally  twenty  yards 
broad.  The  valley  was  sometimes  the  breadth  of  the  stream,  and  some- 
times opened  into  little  green  meadows,  sixty  yards  wide,  with  open  groves 
of  aspen.  The  stream  was  bordered  throughout  with  aspen,  beech,  and 
willow  ;  and  tall  pines  grew  on  the  sides  and  summits  of  the  crags.  On 
both  sides  the  granite  rocks  rose  precipitously  to  the  height  of  three  hun- 
dred and  five  hundred  feet,  terminating  in  jagged  and  broken-pointed 
peaks  ;  and  fragments  of  fallen  rock  lay  piled  up  at  the  foot  of  the  preci- 
pices. Gneiss,  mica  slate,  and  a  white  granite,  were  among  the  varieties 
I  noticed.  Here  were  many  old  traces  of  beaver  on  the  stream;  remnants 
of  dams,  near  which  were  lying  trees  which  they  had  cut  down,  one  and 
two  feet  in  diameter.     The  hills  entirely  shut  ui)  the  river  at  the  end  ol 


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FIRST  EXPEDITION— SOUTH  PASS. 


»37 


about  five  miles,  and  we  turned  up  a  ravine  that  led  to  a  high  prairie, 
which  seemed  to  be  the  general  level  of  the  country.  Hence,  to  the  sum- 
mit of  the  ridge,  there  is  a  regular  and  very  gradual  rise.  Blocks  of 
(Tranite  were  piled  up  at  the  heads  of  the  ravines,  and  small  bare  knolls  of 
mica  slate  and  milky  quartz  protruded  at  frequent  intervals  on  the  prairie, 
which  was  whitened  in  occasional  spots  with  small  salt  lakes,  where  the 
water  had  evaporated,  and  left  the  bed  covered  with  a  shining  incrustation 
of  salt.  The  evening  was  very  cold,  a  northwest  wind  driving  a  fine  rain 
in  our  faces  ;  and  at  nightfall  we  descended  to  a  little  stream,  on  which  we 
encamped,  about  two  miles  from  the  Sweet  Water.  Here  had  recently 
been  a  very  large  camp  of  Snake  and  Crow  Indians  ;  and  some  large  poles 
lying  about  afforded  the  means  of  pitching  a  tent,  and  making  other  places 
of  shelter.  Our  fires  to-night  were  made  principally  of  the  dry  branches 
of  the  artemisia,  which  covered  the  slopes.  It  burns  quickly,  with  a  clear 
oily  flame,  and  makes  a  hot  fire.  The  hills  here  are  composed  of  hard, 
compact  mica  slate,  with  veins  of  quartz. 

August  yth. — We  left  our  encampment  with  the  rising  sun.  As  we  rose 
from  the  bed  of  the  creek,  the  snow  line  of  the  mountains  stretched  grandly 
before  us,  the  white  peaks  glittering  in  the  sun.  They  had  been  hidden 
in  the  dark  weather  of  the  last  few  days,  and  it  had  been  snowing  on  them, 
while  it  rained  in  the  plains.  We  crossed  a  ridge,  and  again  struck  the 
Sweet  Water — here  a  beautiful,  swift  stream,  with  a  more  open  valley, 
timbered  with  beech  and  cotton-wood.  It  now  began  to  lose  itself  in  the 
many  small  forks  which  make  its  head  ;  and  we  continued  up  the  main 
stream  until  near  noon,  when  we  left  it  a  few  miles,  to  make  our  noon  halt 
on  a  small  creek  among  the  hills,  from  which  the  stream  issues  by  a  small 
opening.  Within  was  a  beautiful  grassy  spot,  covered  with  an  open  grove 
of  large  beech-trees,  among  which  I  found  several  plants  that  I  had  not 
previously  seen. 

The  afternoon  was  cloudy,  with  squalls  of  rain  ;  but  the  weather  be- 
came fine  at  sunset,  when  we  again  encamped  on  the  Sweet  Water,  within 
a  few  miles  of  the  South  Pass.  The  country  over  which  we  have  passed 
today  consists  principally  of  the  compact  mica  slate,  which  crops  out  on 
all  the  ridges,  making  the  uplands  very  rocky  and  slaty.  In  the  escarp- 
ments which  border  the  creeks,  it  is  seen  alternating  with  a  light-colored 
sjranite,  at  an  inclination  of  45° ;  the  beds  varying  in  thickness  from  two  or 
three  feet  to  six  or  eight  hundred.  At  a  distance,  the  granite  frequently 
has  the  appearance  of  irregular  lumps  of  clay,  hardened  by  exposure.  A 
variety  of  asicrs  may  now  be  numbered  among  the  characteristic  plants, 
and  the  artemisia  continues  in  full  glory  ;  but  cacti  have  become  rare,  and 
mosses  begin  to  dispute  the  hills  with  them.  The  evening  was  damp  and 
unpleasant ;  the  thermometer,  at  10  o'clock,  being  at  36°,  and  the  grass 


» 


".I 


'•■J 


138 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


wet  with  a  heavy  dew.  Our  astronomical  observations  placed  this  en- 
campment in  longitude  109°  21'  32',  and  latitude  42°  27'  15". 

Early  in  the  morning  we  resumed  our  journey,  the  weather  still  cloudy, 
with  occasional  rain.  Our  general  course  was  west,  as  I  had  determined 
to  cross  the  dividing  ridge  by  a  bridle-path  over  the  broken  country 
more  immediately  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  and  return  by  the  wagon 
road,  two  and  a  half  miles  to  the  south  of  the  point  where  the  trail 
crosses. 

About  six  miles  from  our  encampment  brought  us  to  the  summit.  Tht 
ascent  had  been  so  gradual  that,  with  all  the  intimate  knowledge  pos- 
sessed by  Carson,  who  had  made  this  country  his  home  for  seventeen 
years,  we  were  obliged  to  watch  very  closely  to  find  the  place  at  which 
we  had  reached  the  culr.iinating  point.  This  was  between  two  low  hills, 
rising  on  either  hanu  fifty  or  sixty  feet.  When  I  looked  back  at  them, 
from  the  foot  of  the  immediate  slope  on  the  western  plain,  their  summits 
appeared  to  be  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  above.  From  the  im- 
pression on  my  mind  at  this  time,  and  subsequently  on  our  return,  I  should 
compare  the  elevation  which  we  surmounted  immediately  at  the  pass,  to 
the  ascent  of  the  Capitol  Hill  from  the  Avenue,  at  Washington.  It  is  diffi- 
cult for  me  to  fix  positively  the  breadth  of  this  pass.  From  the  broken 
ground  where  it  commences,  at  the  foot  of  the  Wind  River  chain,  the  view- 
to  the  southeast  is  over  a  champaign  country,  broken,  at  the  distance  of 
nineteen  miles,  by  the  Table  Rock ;  which,  with  the  other  isolated  hills  in 
its  vicinity,  seems  to  stand  on  a  comparative  plain.  This  I  judged  to  be 
its  termination,  the  ridge  recovering  its  rugged  character  with  the  Table 
Rock.  It  will  be  seen  that  it  in  no  manner  resembles  the  places  to  which 
the  term  is  commonly  applied — nothing  of  the  gorge-like  character  and 
winding  ascents  of  the  Alleghany  passes  in  America ;  nothing  of  the  Great 
St.  Bernard  and  Simplon  Passes  in  Europe.  Approaching  it  from  the 
mouth  of  the  Sweet  Water,  a  sandy  plain,  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles 
long,  conducts,  by  a  gradual  and  regular  ascent,  to  the  summit,  about 
seven  thousand  feet  above  the  sea ;  and  the  traveller,  without  being  re- 
minded of  any  change  by  toilsome  ascents,  suddenly  finds  himself  on  the 
waters  which  flow  to  the  Pacific  Ocean.  By  the  route  we  had  travelled, 
the  distance  from  Fort  Laramie  is  three  hundred  and  twenty  miles,  or  nine 
hundred  and  fifty  from  the  mouth  of  the  Kansas. 

Continuing  our  march,  we  reached,  in  eight  miles  from  the  pass,  the 
Little  Sandy,  one  of  the  tributaries  of  the  Colorado,  or  Green  River  of  the 
Gulf  of  California.  The  weather  had  grown  fine  during  the  morning,  and 
we  remained  here  the  rest  of  the  day,  to  dry  our  baggage  and  take  some 
astronomical  observations.  The  stream  was  about  forty  feet  wide,  and 
two  or  three  deep,  with  clear  water  and  a  full  swift  current,  over  a  sandy 


FIRST  EXPEDITION— THE  BIG  SANDY. 


139 


Imiles,  or  nine 


bed.  It  was  timbered  with  a  growth  of  low,  bushy  and  dense  willows, 
among  which  were  little  verdant  spots,  which  gave  our  animals  fine  grass, 
and  where  I  found  a  number  of  interr  sting  plants.  Among  the  neighbor- 
ing hills  I  noticed  fragments  of  granite  containing  magnetic  iron.  Longi- 
tude of  the  camp  was  109°  n'  59'',  and  latitude  42°  27'  34.'' 

August  gth. — We  made  our  noon  halt  to-day  on  Big  Sandy,  another 
tributary  of  Green  River.  The  face  of  the  country  traversed  was  of  a 
brown  sand  of  granite  materials,  the  detritus  of  the  neighboring  mountains. 
Strata  of  the  milky  quartz  cropped  out,  and  blocks  of  granite  were  scat- 
tered about  containing  magnetic  iron.  On  Sandy  Creek  the  formation  was 
of  parti-colored  sand,  exhibited  in  escarpments  fifty  to  eighty  feet  high. 
In  the  afternoon  we  had  a  severe  storm  of  hail,  and  encamped  at  sunset  on 
the  first  New  Fork.  Within  the  space  of  a  few  miles,  the  Wind  Moun- 
tains supply  a  number  of  tributaries  to  Green  River,  which  are  all  called  the 
New  Forks.  Near  our  camp  were  two  remarkable  isolated  hills,  one  of 
them  sufficiently  large  to  merit  the  name  of  mountain.  They  are  called 
the  Two  Buttes,  and  will  serve  to  identify  the  place  of  our  encampment, 
which  t'^o  observations  of  the  evening  placed  in  longitude  109°  58'  11", 
and  latitude  42°  42'  46".  On  the  right  bank  of  the  stream,  opposite  to  the 
large  hill,  the  strata  which  are  displayed  consist  of  decomposing  granite, 
which  supplies  the  brown  sand  of  which  the  face  of  the  country  is  com- 
posed to  a  considerable  depth. 

August  \oth. — The  air  at  sunrise  is  clear  and  pure,  and  the  morning  ex- 
tremely cold,  but  beautiful.  A  lofty  snow-peak  of  the  mountain  is  glitter- 
ing in  the  first  rays  of  the  sun,  which  has  not  yet  reached  us.  The  long 
mountain  wall  to  the  east,  rising  two  thousand  feet  abruptly  from  the  plain, 
behind  which  we  see  the  peaks,  is  still  dark,  and  cuts  clear  against  the 
glowing  sky.  A  fog,  just  risen  from  the  river,  lies  along  the  base  of  the 
mountain.  A  little  before  sunrise  the  thermometer  was  at  35°,  and  at  sun- 
rise if.  Water  froze  last  night,  and  fires  are  very  comfortable.  The 
scenery  becomes  hourly  more  interesting  and  grand,  and  the  view  here 
is  truly  magnificent ;  but,  indeed,  it  needs  something  to  repay  the  long 
prairie  journey  of  a  thousand  miles.  The  sun  has  just  shot  above  the 
wall,  and  makes  a  magical  change.  The  whole  valley  is  glowing  and 
bright,  and  all  the  mountain  peaks  are  gleaming  like  silver.  Though 
these  snow-mountains  are  not  the  Alps,  they  have  their  own  character  of 
grandeur  and  magnificence,  and  will  doubtless  find  pens  and  pencils  to  do 
them  justice.  In  the  scene  before  us,  we  feel  how  much  wood  improves 
a  view.  The  pines  on  the  mountain  seemed  to  give  it  much  additional 
beauty.  I  was  agreeably  disappointed  in  the  character  of  the  streams  on 
this  side  of  the  ridge.  Instead  of  the  creeks  which  description  had  led  me 
to  expect,  I  find  bold  broad  streams,  with  three  or  four  feet  water  and  a 


MO 


MEAfOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


Kt; 


'  •  i 


■if!: 


!■• 


\    ■ 


rapid  current.     The  fork  on  which  we  are  encamped  is  upward  of  a  hun- 
dred feet  wide,  timbered  with  groves  or  thickets  of  the  low  willow. 

We  were  now  approaching  the  loftiest  part  of  the  Wind  River  chain ; 
and  I  left  the  valley  a  few  miles  from  our  encampment,  intending  to  pene- 
trate the  mountains  as  far  as  possible  with  the  whole  party.  We  were  soon 
involved  in  very  broken  ground,  among  long  ridges  covered  with  fragments 
of  granite.  Winding  our  way  up  a  long  ravine,  we  came  unexpectedly  in 
\  iew  of  a  most  beautiful  lake,  set  like  a  gem  in  the  mountains.  The  sheet 
of  water  lay  transversely  across  the  direction  we  had  been  pursuing  ;  and, 
descending  the  steep,  rocky  ridge,  where  it  was  necessary  to  lead  our 
horses,  we  followed  its  banks  to  the  southern  extremity.  Here  a  view  of 
the  utmost  magnificence  and  grandeur  burst  upon  our  eyes.  With  nothing 
between  us  and  their  feet  to  lessen  the  effect  of  the  whole  height,  a  grand 
bed  of  snow-capped  mountains  rose  before  us,  pile  upon  pile,  glowing  in 
the  bright  light  of  an  August  day.  Immediately  below  them  lay  the  lake, 
between  two  ridges,  covered  with  dark  pines  which  swept  down  from  the 
main  chain  to  the  spot  where  we  stood.  Here,  where  the  lake  glittered 
in  the  open  sunlight,  its  banks  of  yellow  sand  and  the  light  foliage  of  as- 
pengroves  contrasted  well  with  the  gloomy  pines.  "  Never  before,"  said 
Preuss,  "  in  this  country  or  in  Europe,  have  I  seen  such  magnificent, 
grand  rocks." 

I  was  so  much  pleased  with  the  beauty  of  the  place  that  I  determined 
to  make  the  main  camp  here,  where  our  animals  would  find  good  pastur- 
age, and  explore  the  mountains  with  a  small  party  of  men.  Proceed- 
ing a  little  farther,  we  came  suddenly  upon  the  outlet  of  the  lake,  where 
it  found  its  way  through  a  narrow  passage  between  low  hills.  Dark  pines, 
which  overhung  the  stream,  and  masses  of  rock,  where  the  water  foamed 
along,  gave  it  much  romantic  beauty.  Where  we  crossed,  which  was 
immediately  at  the  outlet,  it  is  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet  wide,  and  so 
deep  that  with  difficulty  we  were  able  to  ford  it.  Its  bed  was  an  ac- 
cumulation of  rocks,  boulders,  and  broad  slabs,  and  large  angular  frag- 
ments, among  which  the  animals  fell  repeatedly. 

The  current  was  very  swift,  and  the  water  cold  md  of  a  crystal  purity. 
In  crossing  this  stream,  I  met  with  a  great  misfortune  in  having  my  ba- 
rometer broken.  It  was  the  only  one.  A  great  part  of  the  interest  of  the 
journey  for  me  was  in  the  exploration  of  these  mountains,  of  which  so 
much  had  been  said  that  was  doubtful  and  contradictory ;  and  now  their 
snowy  peaks  rose  majestically  before  me,  and  the  only  means  of  giving 
them  authentically  to  science,  the  object  of  my  anxious  solicitude  by  night 
and  day,  was  destroyed.  We  had  brought  this  barometer  in  safety  a  thou- 
sand miles,  and  broke  it  almost  among  the  snow  of  the  mountains.  The 
loss  was  felt  by  the  whole  camp — all  had  seen  my  anxiety,  and  aided  me 


FIRST  EXPEDITION— REPAIRING  BAROMETER. 


141 


in  preserving  it.  The  height  of  these  mountains,  considered  by  the  hunt- 
ers and  traders  the  highest  in  the  whole  range,  had  been  a  theme  of  con- 
stant discussion  among  them ;  and  all  had  looked  forward  with  pleasure 
to  the  moment  when  the  instrument,  which  they  believed  to  be  true  as  the 
sun,  should  stand  upon  the  summits  and  decide  their  disputes.  Their 
grief  was  only  inferior  to  my  own. 

This  lake  is  about  three  miles  long,  and  of  very  irregular  width,  and 
apparently  great  depth,  and  is  the  head-water  of  the  third  New  Fork,  a 
tributary  to  Green  River,  the  Colorado  of  the  West.  On  the  map  and  in 
the  narrative  I  have  called  it  Mountain  Lake.  I  encamped  on  the  north  side, 
about  three  hundred  and  fifty  yards  from  the  outlet.  This  was  the  most 
western  point  at  which  I  obtained  astronomical  observations,  by  which 
this  place,  called  Bernier's  encampment,  is  made  in  1 10"  08'  03"  west  lon- 
gitude from  Greenwich,  and  latitude  42°  49'  49".  The  mountain  peaks,  as 
laid  down,  were  fixed  by  bearings  from  this  and  other  astronomical  points. 
We  had  no  other  compass  than  the  small  ones  used  in  sketching  the  coun- 
try ;  but  from  an  azimuth,  in  which  one  of  them  was  used,  the  variation  of 
the  compass  is  18°  east.  The  correction  made  in  our  field-work  by  the 
astronomical  observations  indicates  that  this  is  a  very  correct  observation. 

As  soon  as  the  camp  was  formed,  I  set  about  endeavoring  to  repair  my 
barometer.  As  I  have  already  said,  this  was  a  standard  cistern-barometer 
of  Troughton's  construction.  The  glass  cistern  had  been  broken  about 
iTiidway  ;  but  as  the  instrument  had  been  kept  in  a  proper  position,  no  air 
had  found  its  way  into  the  tube,  the  end  of  which  had  always  remained 
covered.  I  had  with  me  a  number  of  vials  of  tolerably  thick  glass,  some 
of  which  were  of  the  same  diameter  as  the  cistern,  and  I  spent  the  day  in 
slowly  working  on  these,  endeavoring  to  cut  them  of  the  requisite  length  ; 
but,  as  my  instrument  was  a  very  rough  file,  I  invariably  broke  them.  A 
groove  was  cut  in  one  of  the  trees,  where  the  barometer  was  placed  during 
the  night,  to  be  out  of  the  way  of  any  possible  danger,  and  in  the  morning 
1  commenced  again.  Among  the  powder-horns  in  the  camp  I  found  one 
which  was  very  transparent,  so  that  its  contents  could  be  almost  as  plainly 
seen  as  throdgh  glass.  This  I  boiled  and  stretched  on  a  piece  of  wood  t<5 
the  requisite  diameter,  and  scraped  it  very  thin  in  order  to  increase  to  the 
utmost  its  transparency.  I  then  secured  it  firmly  in  its  place  on  the  instru- 
ment, with  strong  glue  made  from  a  buffalo,  and  filled  it  with  mercury 
properly  heated.  A  piece  of  skin  which  had  covered  one  of  the  vials 
furnished  a  good  pocket,  which  was  well  secured  with  strong  thread  and 
glue,  and  then  the  brass  cover  was  screwed  to  its  place.  The  instrument 
was  left  some  time  to  dry  ;  and  when  I  reversed  it,  a  few  hours  after,  I  had 
the  satisfaction  to  find  it  in  perfect  order,  its  indications  being  about  the 
same  as  on  the  other  side  of  the  lake  before  it  had  been  broken.     Our  sue- 


r; 


m  ^ 


H  ''l 


m 


VI 


149 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


cess  in  this  little  incident  diffused  pleasure  throughout  the  camp  ;  and  we 
immediately  set  about  our  preparations  for  ascending  the  mountains. 

As  will  be  seen  on  reference  to  a  map,  on  this  short  mountain  chain 
are  the  head-waters  of  four  great  rivers  of  the  continent ;  namely,  the  Col- 
orado, Columbia,  Missouri,  and  Platte  Rivers.  It  had  been  my  design 
after  having  ascended  the  mountains,  to  continue  our  route  on  the  western 
side  of  the  range,  and,  crossing  through  a  pass  at  the  northwestern  end  of 
the  chain,  about  thirty  miles  from  our  present  camp,  return  along  the 
eastern  slope,  across  the  heads  of  the  Yellowstone  River,  and  join  on  the 
line  to  our  station  of  August  7th,  immediately  at  the  foot  of  the  ridge.  In 
this  way  I  should  be  enabled  to  include  the  whole  chain,  and  its  numer- 
ous waters,  in  my  survey ;  btit  various  considerations  induced  me,  very 
reluctantly,  to  abandon  this  plan. 

I  was  desirous  to  keep  strictly  within  the  scope  of  my  instructions,  and 
it  would  have  required  ten  or  fifteen  additional  days  for  the  accomplish- 
ment of  this  object ;  our  animals  had  become  very  much  worn  out  with 
the  length  of  the  journe)  ;  game  was  very  scarce  ;  and,  though  it  does  not 
appear  in  the  course  of  the  narrative  (as  I  have  avoided  dwelling  upon 
trifling  incidents  not  connected  with  the  objects  of  the  expedition),  the 
spirits  of  the  men  had  been  much  exhausted  by  the  hardships  and  priva- 
tions to  which  they  had  been  subjected.  Our  provisions  had  well-nigh  all 
.isappeared.  Bread  had  been  long  out  of  the  question  ;  and  of  all  our 
stock,  we  had  remaining  two  or  three  pounds  of  coffee  and  a  small  quan- 
tity of  macaroni,  which  had  been  husbanded  with  great  care  for  the  moun- 
tain expedition  we  were  about  to  undertake.  Our  daily  meal  consisted  of 
dry  buffalo-meat,  cooked  in  tallow ;  and,  as  we  had  not  dried  this  with 
Indian  skill,  part  of  it  was  spoiled ;  and  what  remained  of  good  was  as 
hard  as  wood,  having  much  the  taste  and  appearance  of  so  many  pieces  of 
bark.  Even  of  this,  our  stock  was  rapidly  diminishing  in  a  camp  which 
was  capable  of  consuming  two  buffaloes  in  every  twenty- four  hours. 
These  animals  had  entirely  disappeared  ;  and  it  was  not  probable  that  we 
should  fall  in  with  them  again  until  we  returned  to  the  Sweet  Water. 

Our  arrangements  for  the  ascent  Avere  rapidly  completed.  We  were  in 
a  hostile  country,  which  rendered  the  greatest  vigilance  and  circumspec- 
tion necessary.  The  pass  at  the  north  end  of  the  mountain  was  generally 
infested  by  Blackfeet ;  and  immediately  opposite  was  one  of  their  forts,  on 
the  edge  of  a  little  thicket,  two  or  three  hundred  feet  from  our  encamp- 
ment. We  were  posted  in  a  grove  of  beech,  on  the  margin  of  the  lake 
and  a  few  hundred  feet  long,  with  a  narrow  prairillon  on  the  inner  side, 
bordered  by  the  rocky  ridge.  In  the  upper  end  of  this  grove  we  cleared  a 
circular  space  about  forty  feet  in  diameter,  and,  with  the  felled  timber  and 
interwoven  branches,  surrounded  it  with  a  breastwork  five  feet  in  height. 


FIRST  EXPEDITION— SCARCITY  OF  FOOD. 


143 


A  gap  was  left  for  a  gate  on  the  inner  side,  by  which  the  animals  were  to 
be  driven  in  and  secured,  while  the  men  slept  around  the  little  work.  It 
was  half  hidden  by  the  foliage ;  and,  garrisoned  by  twelve  resolute  men, 
would  have  set  at  defiance  any  band  of  savages  which  might  chance  to 
discover  them  in  the  interval  of  our  absence.  Fifteen  of  the  best  mules, 
with  fourteen  men,  were  selected  for  the  mountain  party.  Our  provisions 
consisted  of  dried  meat  for  two  days,  with  our  little  stock  of  coffee  and 
some  macaroni.  In  addition  to  the  barometer  and  a  thermometer,  I  took 
with  me  a  sextant  and  spyglass,  and  we  had,  of  course,  our  compasses. 
In  charge  of  the  camp  I  left  Bernier,  one  of  my  most  trustworthy  men,  who 
possessed  the  most  determined  courage. 

August  \2t/i. — Early  in  the  morning  we  left  the  camp,  fifteen  in  num- 
ber, well  armed,  of  course,  and  mounted  on  our  best  mules.  A  pack-ani- 
mal carried  our  provisions,  with  a  coffee-pot  and  kettle,  and  three  or  four 
tin  cups.  Every  man  had  a  blanket  strapped  over  his  saddle,  to  serve  for 
his  bed,  and  the  instruments  were  carried  by  turns  on  their  backs.  We 
entered  directly  on  rough  and  rocky  ground ;  and,  just  after  crossing  the 
ridtje,  had  the  good  fortune  to  shoot  an  antelope.  We  heard  the  roar 
and  had  a  glimpse  of  a  waterfall  as  we  rode  along ;  and,  crossing  in  our 
way  two  fine  streams,  tributary  to  the  Colorado,  in  about  two  hours'  ride 
we  reached  the  top  of  the  first  row  or  range  of  the  mountains.  Here, 
again,  a  view  of  the  most  romantic  beauty  met  our  eyes.  It  seemed  as  if, 
from  the  vast  expanse  of  uninteresting  prairie  we  had  passed  over,  nature 
had  colleci-ed  all  her  beauties  together  in  one  chosen  place.  We  were 
overlooking  a  deep  valley,  which  was  entirely  occupied  by  three  lakes,  and 
from  the  brink  the  surrounding  ridges  rose  precipitously  five  hundred  and 
a  thousand  feet,  covered  with  the  dark  green  of  the  balsam-pine,  relieved 
on  the  border  of  the  lake  with  the  light  foliage  of  the  aspen.  They  all 
communicated  with  each  other ;  and  the  green  of  the  waters,  common  to 
mountain  lakes  of  great  depth,  showed  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  cross 
them.  The  surprise  manifested  by  our  guides  when  these  impassable  ob- 
stacles suddenly  barred  our  progress  proved  that  they  were  among  the 
hidden  treasures  of  the  place,  unknown  even  to  the  wandering  trappers  of 
the  region.  Descending  the  hill,  we  proceeded  to  make  our  way  along 
the  margin  to  the  southern  extremity.  A  narrow  strip  of  angular  frag- 
ments of  rock  sometimes  afforded  a  rough  pathway  for  our  mules,  but  gen 
erally  we  rode  along  the  shelving  side,  occasionally  scrambling  up,  at  a 
considerable  risk  of  tumbling  back  into  the  lake. 

The  slope  was  frequently  sixty  degrees ;  the  pines  grew  densely  to- 
gether, and  the  ground  was  covered  with  the  branches  and  trunks  of  trees. 
The  air  was  fragrant  with  the  odor  of  the  pines  ;  and  I  realized,  this  de- 
lightful morning,  the  pleasure  of  breathing  that  mountain  air  which  makes 


144 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FR&MONT. 


a  constant  theme  of  the  hunter's  praise,  and  which  now  made  us  feel  as  if 
we  had  all  been  drinking  some  exhilarating  gas.  The  depths  of  this  un- 
explored forest  were  a  place  to  delight  the  heart  of  a  botanist.  There  was 
a  rich  undergrowth  of  plants,  and  numerous  gay-colored  flowers  in  brill- 
iant  bloom.  We  reached  the  outlet  at  length,  where  some  freshly  barked 
willows  that  lay  in  the  water  showed  that  the  beaver  had  been  recently  at 
work.  There  were  some  small  brown  squirrels  jumping  about  in  the  pines, 
and  a  couple  of  large  mallard  ducks  swimming  about  in  the  stream. 

The  hills  on  this  southern  end  were  low,  and  the  lake  looked  like  a 
mimic  sea  as  the  waves  broke  on  the  sandy  beach  in  the  force  of  a  strong 
breeze.  There  was  a  pretty  open  spot,  with  fine  grass  for  our  mules ;  and 
we  made  our  noon  halt  on  the  beach,  under  the  shade  of  some  large  hem- 
locks. We  resumed  our  journey  after  a  halt  of  about  an  hour,  making  our 
way  up  the  ridge  on  the  western  side  of  the  lake.  In  search  of  smoother 
ground,  we  rode  a  little  inland ;  and,  passing  through  groves  of  aspen, 
soon  found  ourselves  again  among  the  pines.  Emerging  from  these,  we 
struck  the  summit  of  the  ridge  above  the  upper  end  of  the  lake. 

We  had  reached  a  very  elevated  point,  and  in  the  valley  below,  and 
among  the  hills,  were  a  number  of  lakes  at  different  levels  ;  some  two  or 
three  hundred  feet  above  others,  with  which  they  communicated  by  foam- 
ing torrents.  Even  to  our  great  height,  the  roar  of  the  cataracts  came  up, 
and  we  could  see  them  leaping  down  in  lines  of  snowy  foam.  From  this 
scene  of  busy  waters  we  turned  abruptly  into  the  stillness  of  a  forest, 
where  we  rode  among  the  open  bolls  of  the  pines,  over  a  lawn  of  verdant 
grass  having  strikingly  the  air  of  cultivated  grounds.  This  led  us,  after  a 
time,  among  masses  of  rock  which  had  no  vegetable  earth  but  in  hollows 
and  crevices,  though  still  the  pine-forest  continued.  Toward  evening  we 
reached  a  defile,  or  rather  a  hole  in  the  mountains,  entirely  shut  in  by  dark 
pine-covered  rocks, 

A  small  stream,  with  a  scarcely  perceptible  current,  fiowed  through  a 
level  bottom  of  perhaps  eighty  yards'  width,  where  the  grass  was  saturated 
with  water.  Into  this  the  mules  were  turned,  and  were  neither  hobbled 
nor  picketed  during  the  night,  as  the  fine  pasturage  took  away  all  tempta- 
tion to  stray  ;  and  we  made  our  bivouac  in  the  pines.  The  surrounding 
masses  were  all  of  granite.  While  supper  was  being  prepared  I  set  out 
on  an  excursion  in  the  neighborhood,  accompanied  by  one  of  my  men. 
We  wandered  about  among  the  crags  and  ravines  until  dark,  richly  repaid 
for  our  walk  by  a  fine  collection  of  plants,  many  of  them  in  full  bloom. 
Ascending  ;i  peak  to  find  the  place  of  our  camp,  we  saw  that  the  little  de- 
file in  which  we  lay  communicated  with  the  long  green  valley  of  some 
stream,  which,  here  locked  up  in  the  mountains,  far  away  to  the  south 
found  its  way  in  a  dense  forest  to  the  plains. 


!»■ 


FIRST  EXPEDITION— AN  IMPRESSIVE  SPOT. 


145 


Looking  along  its  upward  course,  it  seemed  to  conduct,  by  a  smooth 
gradual  slope,  directly  toward  the  peak,  which,  from  long  consultation  as 
we  approached  the  mountain,  we  had  decided  to  be  the  highest  of  the 
range.  Pleased  with  the  discovery  of  so  fine  a  road  for  the  next  day,  we 
hastened  down  to  the  camp,  where  we  arrived  just  in  time  for  supper. 
Our  table  service  was  rather  scant ;  and  we  held  the  meat  in  our  hands, 
and  clean  rocks  made  good  plates  on  which  we  spread  our  macaroni. 
Among  all  the  strange  places  on  which  we  hnd  occasion  to  encamp  during 
our  long  journey,  none  have  left  so  vivid  a.i  1  ipression  on  my  mind  as  the 
camp  of  this  evening.  The  disorder  of  the  .lasses  which  surrounded  us  ; 
the  little  hole  through  which  we  saw  the  .-'  ars  overhead  ;  the  dark  pines 
where  we  slept ;  and  the  rocks  lit  up  with  che  glow  of  our  fires — maJf  a 
night-picture  of  very  wild  beauty. 

August  \T,th. — The  morning  was  bright  and  pleasant,  just  cool  enough 
to  make  exercise  agreeable,  and  we  soon  entered  the  defile  I  had  seei,  the 
preceding  day.  It  was  smoothly  carpeted  with  a  soft  grass,  and  sca..iered 
over  with  groups  of  flowers  of  '.'hich  yellow  was  the  predominant  color. 
Sometimes  we  were  forced,  by  an  occasional  difficult  pass,  to  pick  our  w:;y 
on  a  narrow  ledge  ah  ■  vf  the  side  of  the  defile,  and  the  mules  were  fre- 
quently on  their  knees ;  but  these  obstructions  were  rare,  and  we  jour- 
neyed on  in  the  sweet  morning  air,  delighted  at  our  good  fortune  in  having 
found  such  a  beautiful  entrance  to  the  mountains.  This  road  continued 
for  about  three  miles,  when  we  suddenly  reached  its  termination  in  one  of 
the  grand  views  which,  at  every  turn,  meet  the  traveller  in  this  magnifi- 
cent region.  Here  the  defile  up  which  we  had  travelled  opened  out  into  a 
small  lawn,  where,  in  a  little  lake,  the  stream  had  its  source. 

There  were  some  fine  asters  in  bloom,  but  all  the  flowering  plants  ap- 
peared to  seek  the  shelter  of  the  rocks,  and  to  be  of  lower  growth  than 
below,  as  if  they  loved  the  warmth  of  the  soil  and  kept  out  of  the  way  of 
the  winds.  Immediately  at  our  feet  a  precipitous  descent  led  to  a  confusion 
of  defiles,  and  before  us  rose  the  mountains  as  we  have  represented  them 
in  the  annexed  view.  It  is  not  by  the  splendor  of  far-off  views,  which  have 
lent  such  a  glory  to  the  Alps,  that  these  impress  the  mind;  but  by  a  gigan- 
tic disorder  of  enormous  masses,  and  a  savage  sublimity  of  naked  rock,  in 
wonderful  contrast  with  innumerable  green  spots  of  a  rich  floral  beauty 
shut  up  in  their  stern  recesses.  Their  wildness  seems  well  suited  to  the 
character  of  the  people  who  inhabit  the  country. 

I  determined  to  leave  our  animals  here,  and  make  the  nst  of  our  way 
on  foot.  The  peak  appeared  so  near  that  there  was  no  doubt  of  our  re- 
turning before  night,  and  a  fev/  men  were  left  in  charge  of  the  mules  with 
our  provisions  and  blankets.  We  took  with  us  nothing  but  our  arms  and 
instruments,  and,  as  the  day  had  become  warm,  the  greater  part  left  their 


146 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMOXT. 


f:   :■ 


■I     I 


'M 


H  I 


t    II 


coats.  Having  made  an  early  dinner,  we  stai  ced  again.  We  were  soon 
involved  in  the  most  rugged  precipices,  nearing  the  central  chain  very 
slowly,  and  rising  but  little.  The  first  ridge  hid  a  succession  of  others; 
and  when,  with  great  fatigue  and  difficulty,  we  had  climbed  up  five  him- 
dred  feet,  it  was  but  to  make  an  equal  descent  on  the  other  side  ;  all  these 
intervening  places  were  filled  with  small  deep  lakes,  which  met  the  eye  in 
every  direction,  descending  from  one  level  to  another,  sometimes  under 
bridges  formed  by  huge  fragments  of  granite,  beneath  which  was  heard 
the  roar  of  the  water.  These  constantly  obstructed  our  path,  forcing  us 
to  make  long  detours;  frequently  obliged  to  rjtrace  our  steps,  and  fre- 
quently falling  among  the  rocks.  Maxwell  was  precipitated  toward  the 
face  of  a  precipice,  and  swed  himself  from  going  over  by  throwing  himself 
flat  on  the  ground.  We  clambered  on,  always  expecting  with  every  ridge 
that  we  crossed  to  reach  the  foot  of  the  peaks,  and  always  disappointed, 
until  about  four  o'clock,  when,  pretty  well  worn  out,  we  reached  the  shore 
of  a  little  lake,  in  which  there  was  a  rocky  island,  and  from  which  we  ob- 
tained the  view  given  here.  We  remained  here  a  short  time  to  rest,  and 
continued  on  around  the  lake,  which  had  in  some  places  a  beach  of  white 
sand,  and  in  others  was  bound  with  rocks,  over  which  the  way  was  diffi- 
cult and  dangerous,  as  the  water  from  innumerable  springs  made  them 
very  slippery. 

By  the  time  we  hatl  reached  the  farther  side  of  the  lake,  we  found  our- 
selves all  exceedingly  fatigued,  and,  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  whn!t 
party,  we  encamped.  The  spot  we  had  chosen  was  a  broad  flat  rock,  in 
some  measure  protected  from  the  winds  by  the  surrounding  crags,  and  thr 
trunks  of  fallen  pines  afforded  us  bright  fires.  Near  by  was  a  foaming  tor- 
rent, which  tumbled  into  the  little  lake  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
below  us,  and  which,  by  way  of  distinction,  we  have  called  Island  Lake. 
We  had  reached  the  upper  limit  of  the  piny  region  ;  as,  above  this  point, 
no  tree  was  to  be  seen,  and  patches  of  snow  lay  everywhere  around  us  on 
the  cold  sides  of  the  rocks.  The  flora  of  the  region  we  had  traversed  since 
leaving  our  mules  was  extremely  rich,  and,  among  the  characteristic  plants, 
the  scarlet  flowers  of  the  Dodccathcon  dcnhituni  everywhere  met  the  eye  in 
great  abundance.  A  small  green  ravine,  on  the  edge  of  which  we  were 
encamped,  was  filled  with  a  profusion  of  alpine  plants  in  brilliant  bloom, 
From  barometrical  observations,  made  during  our  three  days'  sojourn  a! 
this  place,  its  elevation  above  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  is  ten  thousand  ien:. 
During  the  day,  we  had  seen  no  sign  of  animal  life  ;  but  among  the  rock^ 
here  we  heard  what  was  supposed  to  be  the  bleat  of  a  young  goat,  which 
we  searched  for  with  hungry  activity,  and  found  to  proceed  from  a  small 
animal  of  a  gray  color,  with  short  ears  and  no  tail — probably  the  Siberian 
squirrel.     We  saw  a  considerable  number  of  them,  and,  with  the  exception 


NT. 


^e  were  soon 
al  chain  very 
an  of  others; 
up  five  him- 
iide ;  all  these 
net  the  eye  in 
letimes  under 
ch  was  heard 
ith,  forcing  iis 
iteps,  and  fre- 
;d  toward  tk 
rowing  himself 
,th  every  ridge 
,  disappointed, 
ched  the  shore 
I  which  we  ob- 
tiie  to  rest,  and 
beach  of  white 
;  way  was  difii- 
igs  made  them 

,  we  found  our- 
»n  of  the  wholt 
ad  flat  rock,  in 
f  craes,  and  thr 
a  foaming  tor- 
and  fifty  fee: 
Island  Lake. 
50ve  this  point, 
e  around  us  on 
traversed  since 
icteristic  plants, 
met  the  eye  in 
which  we  were 
)rilliant  bloom. 
ays'  sojourn  at 
thousand  tec 
mong  the  rock^ 
ng  goat,  whidi 
ci  from  a  small 
ily  the  Siberian 
;h  the  exception 


i,S :'       ■  i 


w 


I  '  ■    'N. 


t( 
la 
b; 
k 
Ith, 
|br 
lia 
to 
on 

Ith. 
[of 

JSOI 

Ithc 


bef( 
Prt 
nini 
Ilim 
tioii 


nto 
tan 


pjRST  EXPEDITION— EXCESSIVE  FATIGUE,  NO  FOOD,  AND  ILL.     147 

of  a  small  bird  like  a  sparrow,  it  is  the  only  inhabitant  of  this  elevated  part 
of  the  mountains.  On  our  return  we  saw,  below  this  lake,  large  flocks  of 
the  mountain  goat.  We  had  nothing  to  eat  to-night,  Lajeunesse,  with 
several  others,  took  their  guns  and  sallied  out  in  search  of  a  goat ;  but  re- 
turned unsuccessful.  At  sunset  the  barometer  stood  at  20.522  ;  the  at- 
tached thermometer,  50°.  Here  we  had  the  misfortune  to  break  our  ther- 
mometer, having  now  only  that  attached  to  the  barometer.  I  was  taken 
ill  shortly  after  we  had  encamped,  and  continued  so  until  late  in  the  night, 
with  violent  headache  and  vomiting.  This  was  probably  caused  by  the 
excessive  fatigue  I  had  undergone,  and  want  of  food,  and  perhaps,  also,  in 
some  measure,  by  the  rarity  of  the  air.  The  night  was  cold,  as  a  violent 
(Tale  from  the  north  had  sprung  up  at  sunset,  which  entirely  blew  away  the 
heat  of  the  fires.  The  cold,  and  our  granite  beds,  had  not  been  favorable 
to  sleep,  and  we  were  glad  to  see  the  face  of  the  sun  in  the  morning.  Not 
being  delayed  by  any  preparations  for  breakfast,  we  set  out  immediately. 

On  every  side  as  we  advanced  was  heard  the  roar  of  water,  and  of  a 

torrent,  which  we  followed  up  a  short  distance,  until  it  expanded  into  a 

lake  about  one  mile  in  length.     On   the  northern  side  of  the  lake  was  a 

bank  of  ice,  or  rather  of  snow  covered  with  a  crust  of  ice.      Carson  had 

been  our  guide  into  the   mountains,  and,  agreeably  to  his  advice,  we  left 

this  little  valley  and  took  to  the  ridges  again  ;  which  we  found  extremely 

broken,  and  where  we  were  again  involved  among  precipices.     Here  were 

ice-fields;  among  which  we  were  all  dispersed,  seeking  each  the  best  path 

to  ascend  the  peak.     Preuss  attempted  to  walk  along  the  upper  edge  of 

one  of  these  fields,  which  sloped  away  at  an  angle  of  about  twenty  de- 

Igrecs;  but  his  feet  slipped   from  under  him,  and  he  went  plunging  down 

[the  plane.     A  few  hundred  feet  below,  at  the  bottom,  were  some  fragments 

[of  sharp  rock,  on  which   he  landed ;  and,  though  he  turned  a   couple  of 

jsomersets,  fortunately  received  no  injury  beyond  a  few  bruises.     Two  of 

Ithe  men,  Clement  Lambert  and  Descoteaux,  had  been   taken  ill,  and  lay 

Idown  on  the  rocks  a  short  distance  below  ;  and  at  this  point  I  was  attacked 

with  lieadache  and  giddiness,  accompanied  by  vomiting,  as  on  the  day 

before.     Finding  myself  unable  to  proceed,  I  sent  the  barometer  over  to 

Preuss,  who  was  in  a  gap  two  or  three  hundred  yards  distant,  desiring 

him  to  reach  the  peak,  if  possible,  and  take  an  observation  there.   He  found 

himself  unable  to  proceed  farther  in  that  direction,  and  took  an  observa- 

pon  where  the  barometer  stood  at   19.401  ;  attached  thermometer  50°,  in 

hi:  i^ap.     Carson,  who  had  gone  over  to  him,  suceeeded  in  reaching  one 

^fihe  snowy  summits  of  the  main  ridge,  whence  he  saw  the  peak  toward 

liich  all  our  efiforts  had  been  directed,  towering  eight  or  ten  hundred  feet 

nto  the  air  above  him.    In  the  meantime,  finding  myself  grow  rather  worse 

hail  better,  and  doubtful  how  far  my  strength  would  carry  me,  I  sent 


148 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRiMONT. 


rt 


V  i| 


\  i 


Iv 


Basil  Lajeunesse,  with  four  men,  back  to  the  place  where  the  mules  had 
been  left. 

We  were  now  better  acquainted  with  the  topography  of  the  countr)-, 
and  I  directed  him  to  bring  back  with  him,  if  it  were  in  any  way  possible, 
four  or  five  mules,  with  provisions  and  blankets.  With  me  were  Maxwell 
and  Ayot ;  and  after  we  had  remained  nearly  an  hour  on  the  rock,  it  be- 
came so  unpleasantly  cold,  though  the  day  was  bright,  that  we  set  out  on 
our  return  to  the  camp,  at  which  we  all  arrived  safely,  straggling  in  one 
after  the  other.  I  continued  ill  during  the  afternoon,  but  became  better 
toward  sundown,  when  my  recovery  was  completed  by  the  appearance  of 
Basil  and  four  men,  all  mounted.  The  men  who  had  gone  with  him  had 
been  too  much  fatigued  to  return,  and  were  relieved  by  those  in  charge  of 
the  horses  ;  but  in  his  powers  of  endurance  Basil  resembled  more  a  moun- 
tain goat  than  a  man.  They  brought  blankets  and  provisions,  and  Me 
enjoyed  well  our  dried  meat  and  a  cup  of  good  coffee.  We  rolled  c  r- 
selves  up  in  our  blankets,  and,  with  our  feet  turned  to  a  blazing  fire,  slept 
soundly  until  morning. 

August  \^th. — It  had  been  supposed  that  we  had  finished  with  the 
mountains  ;  and  the  evening  before  it  had  been  arranged  that  Carson  should 
set  out  at  daylight,  and  return  to  breakfast  at  the  Camp  of  the  Mules, 
taking  with  him  all  but  four  or  five  men,  who  were  to  stay  with  me  and 
bring  back  the  mules  and  instruments.     Accordingly,  at  the  break  of  day 
they  set  out.     With  Preuss  and  myself  remained  Basil  Lajeunesse,  Ck'm 
ent  Lambert,  Janisse,  and  Descoteaux.     When  we  had  secured  strength 
for  the  day  by  a  hearty  breakfast,  we  covered  what  remained,  which  \va^ 
enough  for  one  meal,  with  rocks,  in  order  that  it  might  be  safe  from  any 
marauding  bird  ;   and,   saddling  our  mules,  turned  our  faces  once  mon: 
toward  the  peaks.     This  time  we  determined  to  proceed  quietly  and  cau 
tiously,  deliberately  resolved  to  accomplish  our  object  if  it  w^ere  within  the 
compass  of  human  means.     We  were  of  opinion  that  a  long  defile  which 
lay  to  the  left  of  yesterday's  route  would  lead  us  to  the  foot  of  the  main 
peak.     Our  mules  had  been  refreshed  by  the  fine  grass  in  the  little  ravine 
at  the  Island  Camp,  and  we  intended  to  ride  up  the  defile  as  far  as  possible  I 
in  order  to  husband  our  strength  for  the  main  ascent.     Though  this  \va< 
a  fine  passage,  still  it  was  a  defile  of  the  most  rugged  mountains  known, 
and  we  had  many  a  rough  and  steep  slippery  place  to  cross  before  reach-  i 
ing  the  end.     In  this  place  the  sun  rarely  shone  ;  snow  lay  along  the  bo; 
der  of  the  small  stream  which  flowed  through  it,  and  occasional  icy  pas 
sages  made  the  footing  of  the  mules  very  insecure,  and  the  rocks  andj 
ground  were  moist  with  the  trickling  waters  in  this  spring  of  mighty  rivers, 
We  soon  had  the  satisfaction  to  find  ourselves  riding  along  the  huge! 
wall  which  forms  the  central  STirn.TJts  of  the  chain.     There  at  last  it  rose] 


taat 


le  mules  had 

the  country, 
way  possible, 
,vere  Maxwell 
le  rock,  it  be- 
we  set  out  on 
ggling  in  one 
became  better 
appearance  of 
with  him  bad 
;e  in  charge  of 
more  a  moun- 
isions,  and  we 
ATe  rolled  c  r- 
azing  fire,  slept 

lished  with  the 
t  Carson  should 
)  of  the  Mules, 
\y  with  me  and 
he  break  of  day 
jeunesse,  Clem 
icured  strength 
ined,  which  \va^ 
2  safe  from  any 
ices  once  mor>- 
uietly  and  can- 
ivere  within  the 
ng  defile  which 
,ot  of  the  maia 
the  little  ravine 
ls  far  as  possible 
hough  this  was 
|)untains  known 
^s  before  reach- 
along  the  bo - 
isional  icy  pa^ 
the  rocks  and] 
If  mighty  rivers. 
Wong  the  huge  I 
at  last  it  rose 


FIRST  EXPEDITION— A  DIFFICULT  AND  DANGEROUS  ASCENT.    149 

by  our  sides,  a  nearly  perpendicular  wall  of  granite,  terminating,  from  two 
to  three  thousand  feet  above  our  heads,  in  a  serrated  line  of  broken,  jagged 
cones.  We  rode  on  until  we  came  almost  immediately  below  the  main 
peak,  which  I  denominated  the  Snow  Peak,  as  it  exhibited  more  snow  to 
the  eye  than  any  of  the  neighboring  summits.  Here  were  three  small 
lakes  of  a  green  color,  each  of  perhaps  a  thousand  yards  in  diameter, 
and  apparently  very  deep.  These  lay  in  a  kind  of  chasm ;  and,  accord- 
ing to  the  barometer,  we  had  attained  but  a  few  hundred  feet  above  the 
Island  Lake.  The  barometer  here  stood  at  20.450,  attached  thermome- 
ter, 70°. 

We  managed  to  get  our  mules  up  to  a  little  bench  about  a  hundred 
feet  above  the  lakes,  where  there  was  a  patch  of  good  grass,  and  turned 
them  loose  to  graze.  During  our  rough  ride  to  this  place,  they  had  ex- 
hibited a  wonderful  surefootedness.  Parts  of  the  defile  were  filled  with 
anovular,  sharp  fragments  of  rock,  three  or  four  and  eight  or  ten  feet  cube  ; 
and  among  these  they  had  worked  their  way,  leaping  from  one  narrow 
point  to  another,  rarely  making  a  false  step,  and  giving  us  no  occasion  to 
dismount.  Having  divested  ourselves  of  every  unnecessary  encumbrance, 
we  commenced  the  ascent.  This  time,  like  experienced  travellers,  we  did 
not  press  ourselves,  but  climbed  leisurely,  sitting  down  so  soon  as  we 
found  breath  beginning  to  fail.  At  intervals  we  reached  places  where  a 
number  of  springs  gushed  from  the  rocks,  and  about  one  thousand  eight 
hundred  feet  above  the  lakes  came  to  the  snow-line.  From  this  point 
our  progress  was  uninterrupted  climbing.  Hitherto  1  had  worn  a  pair  of 
thick  moccasons,  with  soles  o{ parflkhe  ;  but  here  I  put  on  a  light  thin  pair, 
which  I  had  brought  for  the  purpose,  as  now  the  use  of  our  toes  became 
[necessary  to  a  further  advance.  I  availed  myself  of  a  sort  of  comb  of 
the  mountain,  which  stood  against  the  wall  like  a  buttress,  and  which  the 
[wind  and  the  solar  radiation,  joined  to  the  steepness  of  the  smooth  rock, 
[had  kept  almost  entirely  free  from  snow.  Up  this  I  made  my  way  rapidly. 
[Our  cautious  method  of  advancing  in  the  outset  had  spare  '  my  strength  ; 
land,  with  the  exception  of  a  slight  '  si'-ion  to  headache,  I  felt  no  re- 
Imains  of  yesterday's  illness.  In  a  few  minutes  we  reached  a  point  where 
Ithe  buttress  was  overhanging,  and  the.e  was  no  other  way  of  surmounting 
Ithe  difficulty  than  by  passing  around  one  side  of  it,  which  was  the  face  of 
|a  vertical  precipice  of  several  hundred  feet. 

Putting  hands  and  feet  in  the  crevices  between  the  blocks,  I  succeeded 
in  getting  over  it,  and,  when  I  reached  the  top,  found  my  companions  in  a 
pall  valley  below.  Descending  to  them,  we  continued  climbing,  and  in 
I  short  time  reached  the  crest.  I  sprang  upon  the  summit,  and  another 
Itep  would  have  precipitated  me  into  an  immense  snow-field  five  hundred 
leet  below.     To  the  edge  of  this  field  was  a  sheer  icy  precipice ;  and  then, 


^rrm 


1 


I  I 


i 


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hi 


'!.M 


i  !    1 
II    I 


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ti.~i 


IfO 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE—JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


with  a  gradual  fall,  the  field  sloped  off  for  about  a  mile,  until  it  struck  the 
foot  of  another  lower  ridge.  I  stood  on  a  narrow  crest,  about  three  feet  in 
width,  with  an  inclination  of  about  20°  N.,  51°  E.  As  soon  as  I  had  grati- 
fied the  first  feelings  of  curiosity  I  descended,  and  each  man  ascended  in 
his  turn  ;  for  I  would  only  allow  one  at  a  time  to  mount  the  unstable  and 
precarious  slab,  which  it  seemed  a  breath  would  hurl  into  the  abyss  below. 
We  mounted  the  barometer  in  the  snow  of  the  summit,  and,  fixing  a  ram- 
rod in  a  crevice,  unfurled  the  national  flag  to  wave  in  the  breeze  where 
never  flag  waved  before.  During  our  morning's  ascent  we  had  met  no 
sign  of  animal  life,  except  the  small  sparrow-like  bird  already  mentioned. 
A  stillness  the  most  profound  and  a  terrible  solitude  forced  themselves 
constantly  on  the  mind  as  the  great  features  of  the  place.  Here,  on  the 
summit,  where  the  stillness  was  absolute,  unbroken  by  any  sound,  and  the 
solitude  complete,  we  thought  ourselves  beyond  the  region  of  animated 
life  ;  but,  while  we  were  sitting  on  the  rock,  a  solitary  bee  {broinus,  the 
humble  bee)  came  winging  his  flight  from  the  eastern  valley,  and  lit  on  the 
knee  of  one  of  the  men. 

It  was  a  strange  place,  the  icy  rock  and  the  highest  peak  of  the  Rockv 
Mountains,  for  a  lover  of  warm  sunshine  and  flowers  ;  and  we  pleased  our- 
selves with  the  idea  that  he  was  the  first  of  his  species  to  cross  the  moun- 
tain barrier — a  solitary  pioneer  to  foretell  the  advance  of  civilization,  1 
believe  that  a  moment's  thought  would  have  made  us  let  him  continue  his 
way  unharmed  ;  but  we  carried  out  the  law  of  this  country,  where  ail  ani 
mated  nature  seems  at  war,  and,  seizing  him  immediately,  put  him  in  at 
least  a  fit  place — in  the  leaves  of  a  large  book,  among  the  flowers  we  had 
collected  on  our  way.  The  barometer  stood  at  18.293,  the  attached  ther- 
mometer at  44";  giving  for  the  elevation  of  this  summit  thirteen  thousand 
five  hundred  and  seventy  feet  above  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  which  may  be 
called  the  highest  flight  of  the  bee.  It  is  certainly  the  highest  known 
flight  of  that  insect.  From  the  description  given  by  Mackenzie  of  the 
mountains  where  he  crossed  them,  with  that  of  a  French  officer  still  farther 
to  the  north,  and  Colonel  Long's  measurements  to  the  south,  joined  to  the 
opinion  of  the  oldest  traders  of  the  country,  it  is  presumed  that  this  is  the 
highest  peak  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  The  day  was  sunny  and  briglu, 
but  a  slight  shining  mist  hung  over  the  lower  plains,  which  interfered  with 
our  view  of  the  surrounding  country.  On  one  side  we  overlooked  innu- 
merable lakes  and  streams,  the  spring  of  the  Colorado  of  the  Gulf  of  Cali- 
fornia ;  and  on  the  other  was  the  Wind  River  Valley,  where  were  the  heads 
of  the  Yellowstone  branch  of  the  Missouri ;  far  to  the  north  we  just  couki 
discover  the  snowy  heads  of  the  Trois  Tetons,  where  were  the  sources 
of  the  Missouri  and  Columbia  Rivers;  and  at  the  southern  extremity  of 
the  ridge  the  peaks  were  plainly  visible,  among  which  were  some  of  the 


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FIRST  EXPEDITION— FREMONT'S  PEAK. 


'SI 


springs  of  the  Nebraska  or  Platte  River.  Around  us  the  whole  scene  had 
one  main  striking  feature,  which  was  that  of  terrible  convulsion.  Parallel 
to  its  length,  the  ridge  was  split  into  chasms  and  fissures  ;  between  which 
rose  the  thin  lofty  walls,  terminated  with  slender  minarets  and  columns, 
which  is  correctly  represented  in  the  view  from  the  camp  on  Island  Lake. 
According  to  the  barometer,  the  little  crest  of  the  wall  on  which  we  stood 
was  three  thousand  five  hundred  and  seventy  feet  above  that  place,  and 
two  thousand  seven  hundred  and  eighty  above  the  little  lakes  at  the  bot- 
tom, immediately  at  our  feet.  Our  camp  at  the  Two  Hills  (an  astronomi- 
cal station)  bore  S.  3°  E.,  which,  with  a  bearing  afterward  obtained  from 
a  fixed  position,  enabled  us  to  locate  the  peak.  The  bearing  of  the  Trois 
Tetons  was  N.  50°  W.,  and  the  direction  of  the  central  ridge  of  the  Wind 
River  Mountains  S.  39°  E.  The  summit  rock  was  gneiss,  succeeded  by 
sienitic  gneiss.  Sienite  and  feldspar  succeeded  in  our  descent  to  the 
snow-line,  where  we  found  a  feldspathic  granite.  I  had  remarked  that 
the  noise  produced  by  the  explosion  of  our  pistols  had  the  usual  de- 
force of  loudness,  but  was  not  in  the  least  prolonged,  expiring  almost  in- 
stantaneously. Having  now  made  what  observations  our  means  afforded, 
we  proceeded  to  descend.  We  had  accomplished  an  object  of  laudable 
ambition,  and  beyond  the  strict  order  of  our  instructions.  We  had  climbed 
tlie  loftiest  peak  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  looked  down  upon  the  snow 
a  thousand  feet  below,  and,  standing  where  never  human  foot  had  stood 
before,  felt  the  exultation  of  first  explorers.*  It  was  about  two  o'clock 
when  we  left  the  summit ;  and  when  we  reached  the  bottom  the  sun  had 
already  sunk  behind  the  wall,  and  the  day  was  drawing  to  a  close.  It 
would  have  been  pleasant  to  have  lingered  here  and  on  the  summit  longer ; 
but  we  hurried  away  as  rapidly  as  the  ground  would  permit,  for  it  was  an 
object  to  regain  our  party  as  soon  as  possible,  not  knowing  what  accident 
the  next  hour  might  bring  forth. 

We  reached  our  cache  of  provisions  at  nightfall.  Here  was  not  the 
inn  which  awaits  the  tired  traveller  on  his  return  from  Mont  Blanc,  or  the 
orange  groves  of  South  America,  with  their  refreshing  juices  and  soft  fra- 
grant air ;  but  we  found  our  little  cache  of  dried  meat  and  coffee  undis- 
turbed. Though  the  moon  was  bright,  the  road  was  full  of  precipices,  and 
the  fatigue  of  the  day  had  been  great.  We  therefore  abandoned  the  idea 
of  rejoining  our  friends,  and  lay  down  on  the  rock,  and,  in  spite  of  the  cold, 
slept  soundly. 


'  I  received,  under  date  of  March  8,  1884,  a  letter  from  Mr.  H.  G.  Nickerson,  a  member  of  the 
Eighth  Legislative  Assembly,  Wyoming  Territory,  informing  me  that  their  Legislature  had  just 
passed  an  act  to  create  the  county  of  Fremont  ;  embracing  within  its  limits  the  head-waters  of 
Wind  River  and  the  Peak,  the  ascent  of  which,  in  1842,  is  told  in  the  preceding  pages. 

J.  C.  F. 


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«5» 


ME.yfOIRS  or  MY  IJI'K—JOIIN  CHARLES  FRfiMONT. 


W    :  I; 


?.  ■    :  !! 


August  \6l/i. — We  left  our  encampment  with  the  daylight.  We  saw 
on  our  way  large  flocks  of  the  mountain  goat  looking  down  on  us  from  the 
cliffs.  At  the  crack  of  a  rifle  they  would  bound  off  among  the  rocks,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  make  their  appearance  on  some  lofty  peak,  some  hundred 
or  a  thousand  feet  above.  It  is  needless  to  attempt  any  further  descrip- 
tion of  the  country  ;  the  portion  over  which  we  travelled  this  morning  was 
rough  as  in:.  <^ination  could  picture  it,  and  to  us  seemed  equally  beautiful, 
A  concourse  of  lakes  and  rushing  waters,  mountains  of  rocks  naked  and 
destitute  of  vegetable  earth,  dells  and  ravines  of  the  most  exquisite  beauty, 
all  kept  green  and  fresh  by  the  great  moisture  in  the  air,  and  sown  with 
brilliant  flowers,  and  everywhere  thrown  around  all  the  glory  of  most  mag- 
nificent scenes — these  constitute  the  features  of  the  place,  and  impress 
themselves  vividly  on  the  mind  of  the  traveller.  It  was  not  until  eleven 
o'clock  that  we  reached  the  place  where  our  animals  had  been  left  when 
we  first  attempted  the  mountains  on  foot.  Near  one  of  the  still  burnin' 
fires  we  found  a  piece  of  meat,  which  our  friends  had  thrown  awav,  and 
which  furnished  us  a  mouthful — a  very  scanty  breakfast.  We  continued 
directly  on,  and  reached  our  camp  on  the  mountain  lake  at  dusk.  We 
found  all  well.  Nothing  had  occurred  to  interrupt  the  quiet  since  our  de- 
parture, and  the  fine  grass  and  good  cool  water  had  done  much  to  re- 
establish our  animals.  All  heard  with  great  delight  the  order  to  turn  our 
faces  homeward  ;  and  toward  sundown  of  the  1 7th  we  encamped  again  at 
the  Two  Buttes. 

In  the  course  of  this  afternoon  s  inarch  the  barometer  was  broken  past 
remedy.  I  regretted  it,  as  I  was  desirous  to  compare  it  again  with  Dr. 
Kngelman's  barometers  at  St.  Louis,  to  which  mine  were  referred;  but  it 
had  done  its  part  well,  and  my  objects  were  mainly  fulfilled.  It  had 
touched  the  highest  point  of  its  destiny,  and  would  never  be  put  to  a  less 
noble  use — as  the  Scandinavians  mean,  when,  after  drinking  the  health  of 
the  bride,  the  glass  is  thrown  over  the  shoulder  and  shattered  that  it  may 
never  be  used  again. 

Angtisi  igth. — We  left  our  camp  on  Little  Sandy  River  at  about  seven 
in  the  morning,  and  traversed  the  same  sandy,  undulating  country.  The 
air  was  filled  with  the  turpentine  scent  of  the  various  artemisias,  which  are 
now  in  bloom,  and,  numerous  as  they  are,  give  much  gayety  to  the  land- 
scape of  the  plains.  At  ten  o'clock  we  stood  exactly  on  the  divide  in  the 
pass,  where  the  wagon  road  crosses,  and,  descending  immediately  upon 
the  Sweet  Water,  halted  to  take  a  meridian  observation  of  the  sun.  The 
latitude  was  42°  24'  32". 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon  we  saw  buffalo  again,  and  at  our  evening 
halt  on  the  Sweet  Water  the  roasted  ribs  again  made  their  appearance 
around  the  fires  ;  and  with  them,  good  humor,  and  laughter,  and  song 


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FIRST  KXPKOiriON— GOOD  mr.\fO/i,  LAUGHTER,  AND  SOXG.     153 

were  restored  to  the  camp.     Our  coffee  had  been  expended,  but  we  now 
made  a  kind  of  tea  from  the  roots  of  the  wild  cherry-tree. 

August  2^d. — Yesterday  evening  we  reached  our  encampment  at  Rock 
Independence,  where  I  took  some  astronomical  observations.  Here,  not 
unmindful  of  the  custom  of  early  travellers  and  explorers  in  our  country, 
I  engraved  on  this  rock  of  the  Far  West  a  symbol  of  the  Christian  faith. 
Among  the  thickly  inscribed  namf^s  I  made  on  the  hard  granite  the  im- 
pression of  a  large  cross,  which  I  covered  with  a  black  preparation  of  india- 
rubber  well  calculated  to  resist  the  influence  of  wind  anc'  rain.  It  stands 
amidst  the  names  of  many  who  have  long  since  found  iheir  way  to  the 
grave,  and  for  whom  the  huge  rock  is  a  giant  gravestone. 

One  George  Weymouth  was  sent  out  to  Maine  by  the  Earl  of  South- 
ampton, Lord  Arundel,  and  others ;  and  in  the  narrative  of  their  discov- 
eries he  says :  "  The  next  day  we  ascended  in  our  pinnace  that  part  of 
the  river  which  lies  more  to  the  westward,  carrying  with  us  a  cross — a 
thing  never  omitted  by  any  Christian  traveller — which  we  erected  at  the 
ultimate  end  of  our  route."  This  was  in  the  year  1605  ;  and  in  1842  I 
obeyed  the  feeling  of  early  travellers,  and  left  the  impression  of  the  cross 
deeply  engraved  on  the  vast  rock  one  thousand  miles  beyond  the  Missis- 
sippi, to  winch  discoverers  have  given  the  national  name  of  Rock  Inde- 
pendence. 

In  obedience  to  my  instructions  to  survey  the  River  Platte  if  possible,  I 
had  determined  to  make  an  attempt  at  this  place.  The  india-rubber  boat 
was  filled  with  air,  placed  in  the  water,  and  loaded  with  what  was  neces- 
sary for  our  operations ;  and  I  embarked  with  Preuss  and  a  party  of 
men.  When  we  had  dragged  our  boat  for  a  mile  or  two  over  the  sands,  I 
abandoned  the  impossible  undertaking,  and  waited  for  the  arrival  of  the 
party,  when  we  packed  up  our  boat  and  equipage,  and  at  nine  o'clock  were 
again  moving  along  on  our  land  journey.  We  continued  along  the  valley 
on  the  right  bank  of  the  Sweet  Water,  where  the  formation,  as  already  de- 
scribed, consists  of  a  grayish,  micaceous  sandstone,  and  fine-grained  con- 
glomerate, and  marl.  We  passed  over  a  ridge  which  borders  or  consti- 
tutes the  river  hills  of  the  Platte,  consisting  of  huge  blocks,  sixty  or  eighty 
feet  cube,  of  decomposing  granite.  I'he  cement  which  united  them  was 
probably  of  easier  decomposition,  and  has  disappeared  and  left  them  iso- 
late, and  separated  by  small  spaces.  Numerous  horns  of  the  mountain 
goat  were  lying  among  the  rocks ;  and  in  the  ravines  were  cedars,  whose 
trunks  were  of  extraordinary  size.  From  this  ridge  we  descended  to  a 
small  open  plain  at  the  mouth  of  the  Sweet  Water,  which  rushed  with  a 
rapid  current  into  the  Platte,  here  flowing  along  in  a  broad,  tranquil,  and 
apparendy  deep  stream,  which  seemed,  from  its  turbid  appearance,  to  be 
considerably  swollen.     I  obtained  here  some  astronomical  observations, 


li'  jl  ■■ 


?',J>         i;      ■  .li 


;    k 


C'i  I 


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I     I 


,,  .u^ 


i.'   l-\ 


!  •:    . 


154 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


and  the  afternoon  was  spent  in  getting  our  boat  ready  for  navigation  the 
next  day. 

August  2^th. — We  started  before  sunrise,  intending  to  breakfast  at 
Goat  Island.  I  had  directed  the  land  party,  in  charge  of  Bernier,  to  pro- 
ceed to  that  place,  where  they  were  to  remain,  should  they  find  no  note  to 
apprise  them  of  our  having  passed.  In  the  event  of  receiving  this  infor- 
mation, they  were  to  continue  their  route,  passing  by  certain  places  which 
had  been  designated.  Preuss  accompanied  me,  and  with  us  were  five  of 
my  best  men,  viz. :  Lambert,  Basil  Lajeunesse,  Honore  Ayot,  Benoist, 
and  Descoteaux.  Here  appeared  no  scarcity  of  water,  and  we  took  on 
board,  with  various  instruments  and  baggage,  provisions  for  ten  or 
twelve  days.  We  paddled  down  the  river  rapidly,  for  our  little  craft  was 
light  as  a  duck  on  the  water ;  and  the  sun  had  been  some  time  risen,  when 
we  heard  before  us  a  hollow  roar,  which  we  supposed  to  be  that  of  a  fall, 
of  which  we  had  heard  a  vague  rumor,  but  whose  exact  locality  no  one  had 
been  able  to  describe  to  us.  We  were  approaching  a  ridge,  through  which 
the  river  passes  by  a  place  called  "  caiion  "  (pronounced  kanyon),  a  Span- 
ish word,  signifying  a  piece  of  artillery,  the  barrel  of  a  gun,  or  any  kind  of 
tube ;  and  which,  in  this  country,  has  been  adopted  to  describe  the  passage 
of  a  river  between  perpendicular  rocks  of  great  height,  which  frequently 
approach  each  other  so  closely  overhead  as  to  form  a  kind  of  tunnel  over 
the  stream,  which  foams  along  below,  half  choked  up  by  fallen  fragments. 
Between  the  mouth  of  the  Sweet  Water  and  Goat  Island  there  is  prob- 
ably a  fall  of  three  hundred  feet,  and  that  was  principally  made  in  the 
cafions  before  us  ;  as,  without  them,  the  water  was  comparatively  smooth. 
As  we  neared  the  ridge  the  river  made  a  sudden  turn,  and  swept  squarely 
down  against  one  of  the  walls  of  the  cafion  with  a  great  velocity,  and  so 
steep  a  descent  that  it  had  to  the  eye  the  appearance  of  an  inclined  plane, 
When  we  launched  into  this,  the  men  jumped  overboard  to  check  the 
velocity  of  the  boat,  but  were  soon  in  water  up  to  their  necks,  and  our 
boat  ran  on ;  but  we  succeeded  in  bringing  her  to  a  small  point  of  rocks 
on  the  right,  at  the  mouth  of  the  caflon.  Here  was  a  kind  of  elevated 
sand-beach,  not  many  yards  square,  backed  by  the  rocks,  and  around  the 
point  the  river  swept  at  a  right  angle.  Trunks  of  trees  deposited  on  jut- 
ting points  twenty  or  thirty  feet  above,  and  other  marks,  showed  that  the 
water  here  frequently  rose  to  a  considerable  height.  The  ridge  was  ol 
the  same  decomposing  granite  already  mentioned,  and  the  water  had 
worked  the  surface,  in  many  places,  into  a  wavy  surface  of  ridges  and 
holes. 

We  ascended  the  rocks  to  reconnoitre  the  river,  and  from  the  summit 
the  passage  appeared  to  be  a  continued  cataract  foaming  over  many  ob- 
structions and  broken  bv  a  number  of  small  falls.     We  saw  nowhere  a 


FIRST  EXPEDITION— A  CAf^ON. 


«S5 


fall  answering  to  that  which  had  been  described  to  us  as  having  twenty  or 
twenty-five  feet ;  but  still  concluded  this  to  be  the  place  in  question,  as,  in 
the  season  of  floods,  the  rush  of  the  river  against  the  wall  would  pro- 
duce a  great  rise,  and  the  waters,  reflected  squarely  off,  would  descend 
through  the  passage  in  a  sheet  of  foam  having  every  appearance  of  a  large 

fall. 

Eighteen  years  previous  to  this  time,  as  I  have  subsequently  learned 

from  himself,  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  somewhere  above  on  this  river,  had  em- 
barked with  a  valuable  cargo  of  beaver.  Unacquainted  with  the  stream, 
which  he  believed  would  conduct  him  safely  to  the  Missouri,  he  came 
unexpectedly  into  this  cafion,  where  he  was  wrecked,  with  the  total  loss 
of  his  furs.  It  would  have  been  a  work  of  great  time  and  labor  to  pack 
our  baggage  across  the  ridge,  and  I  determined  to  run  the  cafion.  We  all 
again  embarked,  and  at  first  attempted  to  check  the  way  of  the  boat ;  but 
the  water  swept  through  with  so  much  violence  that  we  narrowly  escaped 
being  swamped,  and  were  obliged  to  let  her  go  in  the  full  force  of  the  cur 
rent,  and  trust  to  the  skill  of  the  boatmen.  The  dangerous  places  in  this 
cafion  were  where  huge  rocks  had  fallen  from  above,  and  hemmed  in  the 
already  narrow  pass  of  the  river  to  an  open  space  of  three  or  four  and  five 
feet.  These  obstructions  raised  the  water  considerably  above,  which  was 
sometimes  precipitated  over  in  a  fall  ;  and  at  other  places,  where  this 
dam  was  too  high,  rushed  through  the  contracted  opening  with  tremendous 
violence.  Had  our  boat  been  made  of  wood,  in  passing  the  narrows  she 
would  have  been  staved ;  but  her  elasticity  preserved  her  unhurt  from 
every  shock,  and  she  seemed  fairly  to  leap  over  the  falls. 

In  this  way  we  passed  three  cataracts  in  succession,  where,  perhaps, 
one  hundred  feet  of  smooth  water  intervened;  and  finally,  with  a  shout  of 
pleasure  at  our  success,  issued  from  our  tunnel  into  the  open  day  beyond. 
We  were  so  delighted  with  the  performance  of  our  boat,  and  so  confident 
in  her  powers,  that  we  would  not  have  hesitated  to  leap  a  fall  of  ten  feet 
with  her.  We  put  to  shore  for  breakfast  at  some  willows  on  the  right 
bank,  immediately  below  the  mouth  of  the  cafion ;  for  it  was  now  eight 
oclock,  and  we  had  been  working  since  daylight,  and  were  all  wet,  fatigued, 
and  hungry.  While  the  men  were  preparing  breakfast,  I  went  out  to 
reconnoitre.  The  view  was  very  limited.  The  course  of  the  river  was 
smooth,  so  far  as  I  could  see  ;  on  both  sides  were  broken  hills  ;  and  but  a 
mile  or  two  below  was  another  high  ridge.  The  rock  at  the  mouth  of  the 
cafion  was  still  the  decomposing  granite,  with  great  quantities  of  mica, 
which  made  a  very  glittering  sand. 

We  re-embarked  at  nine  o'clock,  and  in  about  twenty  minutes  reached 
the  next  cafion.  Landing  on  a  rocky  shore  at  its  commencement,  we  as- 
cended the  ridge  to  reconnoitre.     Portage  i"as  out  of  the  question.     So 


•:(»r 


'56 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


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far  as  we  could  see,  the  jagged  rocks  pointed  out  the  course  of  the  canon, 
on  a  winding  line  of  seven  or  eight  miles.  It  was  simply  a  narrow,  dark 
chasm  in  the  rock ;  and  here  the  perpendicular  faces  were  much  higher 
than  in  the  previous  pass,  being  at  this  end  two  to  three  hundred,  and 
farther  down,  as  we  afterward  ascertained,  five  hundred  feet  in  vertical 
height.  Our  previous  success  had  made  us  bold,  and  we  determined  again 
to  run  the  cafion.  Everything  was  secured  as  firmly  as  possible ;  and, 
having  divested  ourselves  of  the  greater  part  of  our  clothing,  we  pushed 
into  the  stream.  To  save  our  chronometer  from  accident,  Preuss  took 
it  and  attempted  to  proceed  along  the  shore  on  the  masses  of  rock,  which 
in  places  were  piled  up  on  either  side ;  but  after  he  had  walked  about 
five  minutes  everything  like  shore  disappeared,  and  the  vertical  wall  came 
squarely  down  into  the  water.     He  therefore  waited  until  we  came  up. 

An  ugly  pass  lay  before  us.  We  had  made  fast  to  the  stern  of  the  boat 
a  strong  rope  about  fifty  feet  long ;  and  three  of  the  men  clambered  along 
among  the  rocks,  and  with  this  rope  let  her  down  slowly  through  the  pass. 
In  several  places  high  rocks  lay  scattered  about  in  the  channel ;  and  in 
the  narrows  it  required  all  our  strength  and  skill  to  avoid  staving  the  boat 
on  the  sharp  points.  In  one  of  these  the  boat  proved  a  little  too  broad, 
and  stuck  fast  for  an  instant,  while  the  water  flew  over  us  ;  fortunately  it 
was  but  for  an  instant,  as  our  united  strength  forced  her  immediately 
through.  The  water  swept  overboard  only  a  sextant  and  a  pair  of  saddle- 
bags. I  caught  the  sextant  as  it  passed  by  me  ;  but  the  saddlebags  be- 
came the  prey  of  the  whirlpools.  We  reached  the  place  where  Preuss 
was  standing,  took  him  on  board,  and,  with  the  aid  of  the  boat,  put  the 
men  with  the  rope  on  the  succeeding  pile  of  rocks.  We  found  the  passage 
much  worse  than  the  previous  one,  and  our  position  was  rather  a  bad  one. 
To  go  back  was  impossible  ;  before  us,  the  cataract  was  a  sheet  of  foam; 
and,  shut  up  in  the  chasm  by  the  rocks,  which  in  some  places  seemed 
almost  to  meet  overhead,  the  roar  of  the  water  was  deafening. 

We  pushed  off  again  ;  but  after  making  a  little  distance  the  force  of 
the  current  became  too  great  for  the  men  on  shore,  and  two  of  them  let 
go  the  rope.  Lajeunesse,  the  third  man,  hung  on,  and  was  jerked  head- 
foremost into  the  river  from  a  rock  about  twelve  feet  high  ;  and  down  the 
boat  shot  like  ai»  arrow,  Basil  following  us  in  the  rapid  current  and  exert- 
"  ig  all  his  strength  to  keep  in  mid-channel — -his  head  only  seen  occasion- 
ally like  a  black  spot  in  the  white  foam.  How  far  we  went,  I  do  not  ex- 
actly know ;  but  we  succeeded  in  turning  the  boat  into  an  eddy  below. 
"  '  Crc'  Dieu,"  said  Basil  Lajeunesse,  as  he  arrived  immediately  after  us, 
"  je  crois  bicn  que  j'ai  nagi'  un  demi-mile."  He  had  owed  his  life  to  his 
skill  as  a  swimmer ;  and  I  determined  to  take  him  and  the  two  others  on 
board,  and  trust  to  skill  and  fortune  to  reach  the  other  end  in  safety. 


FIRST  EXPEDITION—AN  UGLY  PASS. 


157 


We  placed  ourselves  on  our  knees,  with  the  short  paddles  in  our  hands, 
the  most  skilful  boatman  being  at  the  bow  ;  and  again  we  commenced  our 
rapid  descent.  We  cleared  rock  after  rock,  and  shot  past  fall  after  fall,  our 
little  boat  seeming  to  play  with  the  cataract.  We  became  flushed  with 
success  and  familiar  with  the  danger ;  and,  yielding  to  the  excitement  of 
.lie  occasion,  broke  forth  together  into  a  Canadian  boat-song.  Singing, 
or  rather  shouting,  we  dashed  along ;  and  were,  I  believe,  in  the  midst  of 
the  chorus,  when  the  boat  struck  a  concealed  rock  immediately  at  the  foot 
of  a  fall,  which  whirled  her  over  in  an  instant.  Three  of  my  men  could  not 
swim,  and  my  first  feeling  was  to  assist  them  and  save  some  of  our  effects  ; 
but  a  sharp  concussion  or  two  convinced  me  that  I  had  not  yet  saved  my- 
self. A  few  strokes  brought  me  into  an  eddy,  and  I  landed  on  a  pile  of 
rocks  on  the  left  side.  Looking  around,  I  saw  that  Preuss  had  gained 
the  shore  on  the  same  side,  about  twenty  yards  below  ;  and  a  little  climb- 
ing and  swimming  soon  brought  him  to  my  side.  On  the  opposite  side, 
against  the  wall,  lay  the  boat,  bottom  up ;  and  Lambert  was  in  the  act  of 
saving  Descoteaux,  whom  he  had  grasped  by  the  hair,  and  who  could  not 
swim;  " Ldcke  pas,"  said  he,  as  I  afterward  learned,  "  Idche  pas,  cher 
frcre."  "  Grains  pas,"  was  the  reply,  "  Je  m'eti  vats  mourir  avant  de  te 
Idclier."     Such  was  the  reply  of  courage  and  generosity  in  this  danger. 

For  a  hundred  yards  below,  the  current  was  covered  with  floating  books 
and  boxes,  bales  of  blankets,  and  scattered  articles  of  clothing  ;  and  so 
strong  and  boiling  was  the  stream  that  even  our  heavy  instruments,  which 
were  all  in  cases,  kept  on  the  surface,  and  the  sextant,  circle,  and  the  long 
black  box  of  the  telescope  were  in  view  at  once.  For  a  moment,  I  felt 
somewhat  disheartened.  All  our  books — almost  every  record  of  the  jour- 
ney—our  journals  and  registers  of  astronomical  and  barometrical  observa- 
tions— had  been  lost  in  a  moment.  But  it  was  no  time  to  indulge  in  re- 
grets ;  and  I  immediately  set  about  endeavoring  to  save  something  from 
the  wreck.  Making  ourselves  understood  as  well  as  possible  by  signs 
(for  nothing  could  be  heard  in  the  roar  of  waters),  we  commenced  our 
operations.  Of  everything  on  board,  the  only  article  that  had  been  saved 
was  my  double-barrelled  gun,  which  Descoteaux  had  caught  and  clung  to 
with  drowning  tenacity.  The  men  continued  down  the  river  on  the  left 
bank.  Preuss  and  myself  descended  on  the  side  we  were  on ;  and  La- 
ieuiiesse,  with  a  paddle  in  his  hand,  jumped  on  the  boat  alone,  and  con- 
tinued down  the  carton.  She  was  now  light,  and  cleared  every  bad  place 
with  much  less  difficulty.  In  a  short  time  he  was  joined  by  Lambert ; 
and  the  search  was  continued  for  about  a  mile  and  a  half,  which  was  as 
far  as  the  boat  could  proceed  in  the  pass. 

Here  the  walls  were  about  five  hundred  feet  high,  and  the  fragments  of 
rocks  from  above  had  choked  the  river  into  a  hollow  pass,  but  one  or  two 


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158  MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 

feet  above  the  surface.  Through  this  and  the  interstices  of  the  rock,  the 
water  found  its  way.  Favored  beyond  our  expectations,  all  of  our  regis- 
ters had  been  recovered,  with  the  exception  of  one  of  my  journals,  which 
contained  the  notes  and  incidents  of  travel,  and  topographical  descriptions, 
a  number  of  scattered  astronomical  observations,  principally  meridian  alti- 
tudes of  the  sun,  and  our  barometrical  register  west  of  Laramie.  Fortu- 
nately, our  other  journals  contained  duplicates  of  the  most  important  baro- 
metrical observations  which  had  been  taken  in  the  mountains.  These,  with 
a  few  scattered  notes,  were  all  that  had  been  preserved  of  our  meteorologi- 
cal observations.  In  addition  to  thr  se,  we  saved  the  circle ;  and  these, 
with  a  few  blankets,  constituted  everything  that  had  been  rescued  frotri  the 
waters. 

The  day  was  running  rapidly  away,  and  it  was  necessary  to  reach  Goat 
Island,  whither  the  party  had  preceded  us,  before  night.  In  this  uncertain 
country,  the  traveller  is  so  much  in  the  power  of  chance,  that  we  became 
somewhat  uneasy  in  regard  to  them.  Should  anything  have  occurred,  in 
the  brief  interval  of  our  separation,  to  prevent  our  rejoining  them,  our  sit- 
uation would  be  rather  a  desperate  one.  We  had  not  a  morsel  of  provi- 
sions— our  arms  and  ammunition  were  gone — and  we  were  entirely  at 
the  mercy  of  any  straggling  party  of  savages,  and  not  a  little  in  danger  of 
starvation.  We  therefore  set  out  at  once  in  two  parties  ;  Mr.  Preuss  and 
myself  on  the  lefr  and  the  men  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river.  Climb- 
ing out  of  the  caflon,  we  found  ourselves  in  a  very  broken  country,  where 
we  were  not  yet  able  to  recognize  any  locality.  In  the  course  of  our  de- 
scent through  the  cafion,  the  rock,  which  at  the  upper  end  was  of  the  de- 
composing granite,  changed  into  a  varied  sandstone  formation.  The  hills 
and  points  of  the  ridges  were  covered  with  fragments  of  a  yellow  sand- 
stone, of  which  the  strata  were  sometimes  displayed  in  the  broken  ravines 
which  interrupted  our  course,  and  made  our  walk  extremely  fatiguing. 

At  one  point  of  the  cafion  the  red  argillaceous  sandstone  rose  in  a  wall 
of  five  hundred  feet,  surmounted  by  a  stratum  of  white  sandstone  ;  and  in 
an  oppor/lte  ravine  a  column  of  red  sandstone  rose,  in  form  like  a  steeple, 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  high.  The  scenery  was  extremely  pictur- 
esque, and,  notwithstanding  our  forlorn  condition,  we  were  frequently 
obliged  to  stop  and  admire  it.  Our  progress  was  not  very  rapid.  We  had 
emerged  from  the  water  half  naked,  and,  on  arriving  at  the  top  of  the 
precipice,  I  found  myself  with  only  one  moccasin.  The  fragments  of  rock 
made  walking  painful,  and  I  was  frequently  obliged  to  stop  and  pull  out 
tile  thorns  of  the  cactus,  here  the  prevailing  plant,  and  with  which  a  few 
minutes'  walk  covered  the  bottom  of  my  feet.  From  this  ridge  the  river 
emerged  into  a  smiling  prairie,  and,  descending  to  the  bank  for  water,  we 
were  joined  by  Benoist.     The  rest  of  the  party  were  out  of  sight,  having 


IP 


FIRST  EXPEDITION— HOT  SPRING  GA  TE. 


'59 


taken  a  more  inland  route.  We  crossed  the  river  repeatedly — sometimes 
able  to  ford  it,  and  sometimes  swimming — climbed  over  the  ridges  of  two 
more  caftons,  and  toward  evening  reached  the  cut,  which  we  here  named 
the  Hot  Spring  gate. 

On  our  previous  visit  in  July,  we  had  not  entered  this  pass,  reserving 
it  for  our  descent  in  the  boat ;  and  when  we  entered  it  this  evening  Mr. 
Preuss  was  a  few  hundred  feet  in  advance.  Heated  with  the  long  march, 
he  came  suddenly  upon  a  fine  bold  spring  gushing  from  the  rock,  about 
ten  feet  above  the  river.  Eager  to  enjoy  the  crystal  water,  he  threw  him- 
self clown  for  a  hasty  draught,  and  took  a  mouthful  of  water  almost  boil- 
ing hot.  He  said  nothing  to  Benoist,  who  laid  himself  down  to  drink ; 
but  the  steam  from  the  hot  water  arrested  his  eagerness,  and  he  escaped 
the  hot  draught.  We  had  no  thermometer  to  ascertain  the  temperature, 
but  I  could  hold  my  hand  in  the  water  just  long  enough  to  count  two  sec- 
onds. There  are  eight  or  ten  of  these  springs,  discharging  themselves  by 
streams  large  enough  to  be  called  runs.  A  loud  hollow  noise  was  heard 
from  the  rock,  which  I  supposed  to  be  produced  by  the  fall  of  the  water. 
The  strata  immediately  where  they  issue  is  a  fine  white  and  calcareous 
sandstone,  covered  with  an  incrustation  of  common  salt. 

Leaving  this  Thermopylae  of  the  West,  in  a  short  walk  we  reached  the 
red  ridge  which  has  been  described  as  lying  just  above  Goat  Island.  As- 
cending this,  we  found  some  fresh  tracks  and  a  button,  which  showed  that 
the  other  men  had  already  arrived.  A  shout  from  the  man  who  first 
reached  the  top  of  the  ridge,  responded  to  from  below,  informed  us  that 
our  friends  were  all  on  the  island  ;  and  we  were  soon  among  them.  We 
found  some  pieces  of  buffalo  standing  around  the  fire  for  us,  and  managed 
to  get  some  dry  clothes  among  the  people.  A  sudden  storm  of  rain  drove 
us  into  the  best  shelter  we  could  find,  where  we  slept  soundly,  after  one  of 
the  most  fatiguing  days  I  have  ever  experienced. 

August  2^th. — Early  this  morning  Lajeunesse  was  sent  to  the  wreck 
for  the  articles  which  had  been  saved,  and  about  noon  we  left  the  island. 
The  mare  which  he  had  left  here  in  July  had  much  improved  in  condition, 
and  she  served  us  well  again  for  some  time,  but  was  finally  abandoned  at 
a  subsequent  part  of  the  journey.  At  ten  in  the  morning  of  the  26th  we 
reached  Cache  camp,  where  we  found  everything  undisturbed.  We  dis- 
interred our  deposit,  arranged  our  carts  which  had  been  left  here  on  the 
way  out,  and,  travelling  a  few  miles  in  the  afternoon,  encamped  for  the 
night  at  the  ford  of  the  Platte. 

Atigust  2'jth. — At  midday  we  halted  at  the  place  where  we  had  taken 
dinner  on  July  27th.  The  country  which,  when  we  passed  up,  looked  as 
if  the  hard  winter  frosts  had  passed  over  it,  had  now  assumed  a  new  face, 
so  much  of  vernal  freshness  had  been  given  to  it  by  the  late  rains.     The 


i6o 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FR&MONT. 


%%\ 


t 


I 


Platte  was  exceedingly  low — a  mere  line  of  water  among  the  sandbars. 
We  reached  Fort  Laramie  on  the  last  day  of  August,  after  an  absence  of 
forty-two  days,  and  had  the  pleasure  to  find  our  friends  all  well.  The  for- 
tieth day  had  been  fixed  for  our  return;  and  the  quick  eyes  of  the  Indians, 
who  were  on  the  lookout  for  us,  discovered  our  flag  as  we  wound  amon ' 
the  hills.  The  fort  saluted  us  with  repeated  discharges  of  its  single  piece, 
which  we  returned  with  scattered  volleys  of  our  small  arms,  and  felt  thejov 
of  a  home-reception  in  getting  back  to  this  remote  station,  which  seemed 
so  far  off  as  we  went  out. 

On  the  morning  of  September  3d  we  bade  adieu  to  our  kind  friends  at 
the  fort,  and  continued  our  homeward  journey  down  the  Platte,  which  was 
glorious  with  the  autumnal  splendor  of  innumerable  flowers  in  full  and  bril- 
liant bloom.  On  the  warm  sands,  among  the  hclianthi,  one  of  the  charac- 
teristic plants,  we  saw  great  numbers  of  rattlesnakes,  of  which  five  or  six 
were  killed  in  the  morning's  ride.  We  occupied  ourselves  in  improving 
our  previous  survey  of  the  river ;  and,  as  the  weather  was  fine,  astronomi- 
cal observations  were  generally  made  at  night  and  at  noon. 

We  halted  for  a  short  time  on  the  afternoon  of  the  5th  with  a  village  of 
Sioux  Indians,  some  of  whose  chiefs  we  had  met  at  Laramie.  The  water 
in  the  Platte  was  extremely  low  ;  in  many  places,  the  large  expanse  of 
sands,  with  some  occasional  stunted  trees  on  the  banks,  gave  it  the  air  of 
the  sea-coast ;  the  bed  of  the  river  being  merely  a  succession  of  sandbars, 
among  which  the  channel  was  divided  into  rivulets  a  few  inches  deep. 
We  crossed  and  recrossed  with  our  carts  repeatedly  and  at  our  pleasure; 
and,  whenever  an  obstruction  barred  our  way,  in  the  shape  of  precipitous 
bluffs  that  came  down  upon  the  river,  we  turned  directly  into  it,  and  made 
our  way  along  the  sandy  bed,  with  no  other  inconvenience  than  the  fre- 
quent quicksands,  which  greatly  fatigued  our  animals.  Disinterring  on  the 
way  the  cache  which  had  been  made  by  our  party  when  they  ascended  the 
river,  we  reached  without  accident,  on  the  evening  of  September  12th,  our 
old  encampment  of  July  2d  at  the  junction  of  the  forks.  Our  cache  of  the 
barrel  of  pork  was  found  undisturbed,  and  proved  a  seasonable  addition  to 
our  stock  of  provisions.  At  this  place  I  had  determined  to  make  another 
attempt  to  descend  the  Platte  by  water,  and  accordingly  spent  two  days  in 
the  construction  of  a  bull-boat.  Men  were  sent  out  on  the  evening  of  our 
arrival,  the  necessary  number  of  bulls  killed,  and  their  skins  brought  to  the 
camp.  ■  ;  '  of  the  best  of  them  were  strongly  sewed  together  with  buffalo 
sinew  )'  ,  \-^tched  over  a  basket-frame  of  willow.  The  seams  were  then 
cov(  .    \\  tishes  and  tallow,  and  the  boat  left  exposed  to  the  sun  for  the 

greatei  part  of  one  day,  which  was  sufficient  to  dry  and  contract  the  skin, 
and  maice  the  whole  work  solid  and  strorg.  It  had  a  rounded  bow,  was 
eight  feet  long  and  five  broad,  and  drew  with  four  men  about  four  inches  of 


FIRST  EXPEDITION— AfR.  PIERRE  SARPY. 


i6i 


water.  On  the  morning  of  the  15th  we  embarked  in  our  hide-boat,  Mr. 
Preuss  and  myself,  with  two  men.  We  dragged  her  over  the  sands  for 
three  or  four  miles,  and  then  left  her  on  a  bar,  and  abandoned  entirely  all 
further  attempts  to  navigate  this  river.  The  names  given  by  the  Indians 
are  always  remarkably  appropriate  ;  and  certainly  none  was  ever  more  so 
than  that  which  they  have  given  to  this  stream — "the  Nebraska,  or  Shal- 
low River."  Walking  steadily  the  remainder  of  the  day,  a  little  before  dark 
we  overtook  our  people  at  their  evening  camp,  about  twenty-one  miles 
below  the  junction.  The  next  morning  we  crossed  the  Platte,  and  contin- 
ued our  way  down  the  river  bottom  on  the  left  bank,  where  we  found  an 
excellent,  plainly  beaten  road. 

On  the  1 8th  we  reached  Grand  Island,  which  is  fifty-two  miles  long, 
with  an  average  breadth  of  one  mile  and  three-quarters.  It  has  on  it  some 
small  eminences,  and  is  sufficiently  elevated  to  be  secure  from  the  annual 
floods  of  the  river.  As  has  been  already  remarked,  it  is  well  timbered, 
with  an  excellent  soil,  and  recommends  itself  to  notice  as  the  best  point 
for  a  military  position  on  the  Lower  Platte. 

On  the  2 2d  we  arrived  at  the  village  of  the  Grand  Pawnees,  on  the 
right  bank  of  the  river,  about  thirty  miles  above  the  mouth  of  the  Loup 
Fork.  They  were  gathering  in  their  corn,  and  we  obtained  from  them  a 
very  welcome  supply  of  vegetables. 

The  morning  of  the  24th  we  reached  the  Loup  Fork  of  the  Platte.  At 
the  place  where  we  forded  it,  this  stream  was  four  hundred  and  thirty 
yards  broad,  with  a  swift  current  of  clear  water ;  in  this  respect,  differing 
from  the  Platte,  which  has  a  yellow,  muddy  color,  derived  from  the  lime- 
stone and  marl  formation,  of  which  we  have  previously  spoken.  The  ford 
was  difficult,  as  the  water  was  so  deep  that  it  came  into  the  body  of  the 
carts,  and  we  reached  the  opposite  bank  after  repeated  attempts,  ascend- 
ing and  descending  the  bed  of  the  river  in  order  to  avail  ourselves  of  the 
bars.  We  encamped  on  the  left  bank  of  the  fork,  in  the  point  of  land  at 
its  junction  with  the  Platte.  During  the  two  days  that  we  remained  here 
tor  astronomical  observations,  the  bad  weather  permitted  us  to  obtain  but 
one  good  observation  for  the  latitude — a  meridian  altitude  of  the  sun, 
which  gave  for  the  latitude  .of  the  mouth  of  the  Loup  Fork,  41"  22'  11". 

Five  or  six  days  previously,  I  had  sent  forward  Lambert,  with  two  men, 
to  Bellevue,  with  directions  to  ask  from  Mr.  Pierre  Sarpy,  the  gentleman 
in  charge  of  the  American  Company's  establishment  at  that  place,  the  aid 
of  his  carpenters  in  constructing  a  boat,  in  which  I  proposed  to  descend 
the  Missouri.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  27th  we  met  one  of  the  men,  who 
had  been  despatched  by  Mr.  Sarpy  with  a  welcome  supply  of  provisions 
and  a  very  kind  note,  which  gave  us  the  very  gratifying  intelligence  that 
our  boat  was  in  rapid  progress.     On  the  evening  of  the  30th  we  encamped 


I 


4 


1  I  ;  , 


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IMS1 


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:       U 


V  H 


;  h  I, 

■      '    ■ 


162 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


in  an  almost  impenetrable  undergrowth  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Platte,  in 
the  point  of  land  at  its  confluence  with  the  Missouri — three  hundred  and 
fifteen  miles,  according  to  our  reckoning,  from  the  junction  of  the  forks, 
and  five  hundred  and  twenty  from  Fort  Laramie. 

From  the  junction  we  had  found  the  bed  of  the  Platte  occupied  with 
numerous  islands,  many  of  them  very  large,  and  all  well  timbered  ;  possess- 
ing, as  well  as  the  bottom  lands  of  the  river,  a  very  excellent  soil.  Witli 
the  exception  of  some  scattered  groves  on  the  banks,  the  bottoms  are  gen- 
erally without  timber.  A  portion  of  these  consist  of  low  grounds,  covered 
with  a  profusion  of  fine  grasses,  and  are  probably  inundated  in  the  spring; 
the  remaining  part  is  high  prairie,  entirely  beyond  the  influence  of  tlie 
floods.  The  breadth  of  the  river  is  usually  three  quarters  of  a  mile,  except 
where  it  is  enlarged  by  islands.  That  portion  of  its  course  which  is  occu- 
pied by  Grand  Island,  has  an  average  breadth,  from  shore  to  shore,  of  two 
and  a  half  miles.  The  breadth  of  the  valley,  with  the  various  accidents  of 
ground — springs,  timber,  and  whatever  I  have  thought  interesting  to  trav- 
ellers and  settlers — I  indicated  on  one  of  the  maps  which  accompanied 
the  report  I  made  of  this  journey. 

October  \st. — I  rose  this  morning  long  before  daylight,  and  heard,  with 
a  feeling  of  pleasure,  the  tinkling  of  cow-bells  at  the  settlements  on  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  Missouri.  Early  in  the  day  we  reached  Mr.  Sarpy's  resi- 
dence ;  and,  in  the  security  and  comfort  of  his  hospitable  mansion,  felt  the 
pleasure  of  being  again  within  the  pale  of  civilization.  We  found  our  boat 
on  the  stocks  ;  a  few  days  sufficed  to  complete  her ;  and  in  the  afternoon 
of  the  4th  we  embarked  on  the  Missouri.  All  our  equipage — horses. 
carts,  and  the  materiel  of  the  camp — had  been  sold  at  public  auction  at 
Bellevue.  The  strength  of  my  party  enabled  me  to  man  the  boat  with  ten 
oars,  relieved  every  hour  ;  and  we  descended  rapidly.  Early  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  loth,  we  halted  to  make  some  astronomical  observations  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Kansas,  e.xactly  four  months  since  we  had  left  the  trading- 
post  of  Mr.  Cyprian  Chouteau,  on  the  same  river,  ten  miles  above.  On  our 
descent  to  this  place,  we  had  employed  ourselves  in  surveying  and  sketch- 
ing the  Missouri,  making  astronomical  observations  regularly  at  night  and 
at  midday,  whenever  the  weather  permitted.  ■  These  operations  on  the 
river  were  continued  until  our  arrival  at  the  city  of  St.  Louis,  Missouri,  on 
the  17th.  At  St.  Louis  the  sale  of  our  remaining  effects  was  made;  and, 
leaving  that  city  by  steamboat  on  the  i8th,  I  reached  the  city  of  Washing- 
ton on  October  29th. 

I  found  the  family  well. 

The  winter  was  busily  occupied  in  preparing  my  report  of  the  expedi- 
tion. To  Mr.  Preuss  was  assigned  the  labor  of  the  maps.  In  addition  to 
the  general  map  of  the  country  explored,  a  series  of  maps  representing, 


JESSIE   BENTON   FREMONT. 


I 


FIRST  F.XPRDrTION—HOME  AGAIN. 


163 


each  a  day's  journey,  a  guide-book  in  atlas  form,  was  prepared  for  the  use 
,)f  the  emigration.  This  was  the  suggestion  of  Mr.  Henton.  Upon  each 
,)!  the  maps  the  places  w(-re  indicated  for  camps  where  grass  and  water 
iiul  wood  would  be  found. 

Thi^  distinguished  botanist,  Professor  Torrcy,  kindly  undertook  the  de- 
,  riptioii  of  the  plants  collected  during  the  journey.  To  me  fell  the  labor 
,,!'the  various  computations  and  the  writing  of  the  report. 

The  third  life  alluded  to  in  the  "  scope  "  of  this  narrative  came  now  in 
■or  its  portion  of  work. 

I  write  more  easily  by  dictation.  Writing  myself  I  have  too  much  time 
to  think  and  dwell  upon  words  as  well  as  ideas.  In  dictation  there  is  not 
time  for  this  and  then,  too,  I  see  the  face  of  my  second  mind,  and  get  there 
at  times  the  slight  dissent  confirming  my  own  doubt,  or  the  pleased  ex- 
pression which  represents  the  popular  impression  of  a  mind  new  to  the 
subject.  This  invites  discussion  :  a  form  of  discussion  impossible  except 
with  a  inind  and  purpose  in  harmony  with  one's  own  and  on  the  same 
level;  therefore  the  laI)or  of  amanuensis,  commencing  at  this  early  time  , 
has  remained  with  Mrs.  Fremont. 

The  report  was  called  for  by  the  Senate,  and  on  the  motion  of  Mr. 
Linn  it  was  printed  for  the  us(;  of  the  Senate,  and  a  number  of  extra  copies 
ordered. 

In  support  of  his  motion,  Mr.  Linn  said: 

"  The  object  of  the  expedition  was  to  examine  and  report  upon  the 
rivers  and  country  between  the  frontiers  of  Missouri  and  the  base  of 
the  Rocky  Mountains  :  and  especially  to  examine  the  character,  and  as- 
certain the  latitude  and  longitude  of  the  South  Pass,  the  great  crossing- 
lace  in  those  mountains  on  the  way  to  the  Oregon.  All  the  objects  of 
the  expedition  have  been  accomplished,  and  in  a  way  to  be  beneficial  to 
science  and  instructive  to  the  general  reader  as  well  as  useful  to  the  Gov- 
irnment.  Supplied  with  the  best  astronomical  and  barometrical  instru- 
ments, well  qualified  to  use  them,  and  accompanied  by  twenty- five  voya- 
;;eurs  enlisted  for  the  purpose  at  St.  Louis,  and  trained  to  all  the  hardships 
■ind  dangers  of  the  prairies  and  the  mountains,  Mr.  Fremont  left  the  mouth 
III  the  Kansas,  on  the  frontiers  of  Missouri,  on  June  loth,  and  in  the  in- 
credibly short  space  of  four  months  returned  to  the  same  point  without 
an  accident  to  a  man,  and  with  a  vast  mass  of  useful  observations  and 
many  hundred  specimens  in  botany  and  geology. 

"  In  executing  his  instructions,  Mr.  P'remont  proceeded  up  the  Kan- 
sas River  far  enough  to  ascertain  its  character,  anci  then  crossed  over  to  the 
Great  Platte  and  pursued  that  river  to  its  source  in  the  mountains,  where 
the  Sweet  Water  (a  head-branch  of  the  Platte)  issues  from  the  neighbor- 
Hood  of  the  South  Pass.     He  reached  the  pass  on  August  8th,  and  de- 


II      I 

\i    I 


i^^i'tiM'  \- 


111; 


104 


A/y^AfO/A'S  OF  AtV  LIFE  -JO II X  Cll.lh'I.FS  FR/CAIOXT. 


scribed  it  as  a  wide  and  low  depression  of  the  mountains,  where  theascem 
is  as  easy  as  that  of  the  hill  on  which  this  Capitol  stands,  and  where  u 
plainly  beaten  wagon-road  leads  to  the  Oregon  through  the  valley  ot 
Lewis  River,  a  fork  of  the  Columbia. 

"  He  went  through  the  pass  and  saw  the  head-waters  of  the  Colorado 
of  the  Gulf  of  California ;  and,  leaving  the  valleys,  to  indulge  a  laudable 
curiosity  and  to  make  some  useful  obst.-rvations,  ami  atteniled  by  four  oi' 
his  men,  he  climbed  the  loftiest  peak  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  until  then 
untrodden  by  any  known  human  being;  and  on  August  15th  looked  down 
upon  ice  and  snow  some  thousand  feet  below,  anil  traced  in  the  distance 
the  valleys  of  the  rivers  which,  taking  their  rise  in  the  same  elevated  rid^^e, 
flow  in  opposite  directions  to  the  Pacific  Ocean  and  to  the  Mississippi. 
From  that  ultimate  point  he  returned  by  the  valley  of  the  Great  Platte 
following  the  stream  in  its  whole  course,  and  solving  all  questions  in  rela- 
tion to  its  navigability  and  the  character  of  the  country  through  wliicli  i: 
flows. 

"  The  results  of  all  these  observations  Mr.  Fremont  has  condensed  into 
a  brief  report — enough  to  maki;  a  ilocument  of  ninety  or  one  hundred 
pages  ;  and  believing  that  this  document  would  be  of  general  interest  to 
the  whole  country,  and  beneficial  to  science  as  well  as  useful  to  tho 
Government,  I  move  the  printing  of  the  extra  number  which  has  been 
named. 

"This  report  proves  conclusively  that  the  country  for  several  hundred 
miles  from  the  frontier  of  Missouri  is  exceedingly  beautiful  and  fertile;  al- 
ternate woodland  and  prairie,  and  certain  portions  well  supplied  with  water. 
It  also  proves  that  the  valley  of  the  River  Platte  has  a  very  rich  soil,  afford 
ing  great  facilities  for  emigrants  to  the  west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains." 

This  was  the  first  act  done  with  the,  apparent,  support  of  the  Gov- 
ernment in  aid    to  the  Oregon  emigration. 

Upon  this  subject  Mr.  Benton  says  : 

"  Connected  with  this  emigration,  and  auxiliirv  o  it,  was  the  first 
expedition  of  Lieutenant  Fremont  to  the  Rocky  M(>untains,  and  under- 
taken and  completed  in  the  summer  of  1842— upo.i  its  outside  view  the 
conception  of  the  Government,  but  in  fact  conceived  without  its  knowledge, 
and  executed  upon  solicited  orders,  of  which  the  design  was  unknown." 

In  the  meantime  the  second  expedition  had  been  planned. 

Pending  the  discussion  at  Washington  of  the  Ashburton  Treaty  some 
propositions  concerning  Oregon  which  had  been  suggested  between  the 
negotiators  were  submitted  to  the  Senators  from  Missouri,  and  by  them 
promptly  rejected.  These  suggestions  of  "a  conventional  divisional  line 
forewarned  them  of  a  basis  of  settlement  that  admitted  doubt  upon  the 
clear  title  of  the  United  States  to  the  Valley  of  the  Columbia,  which  they 


PREPARING  POR  SP:C0XD  EXPEDITION. 


16=; 


liul  resolved  to  maintain  at^ainst  the  field.  The  divisional  line  meant  the 
1101th  bank  of  the  Columbia  for  the  boundary,  with  eciual  rights  of  naviga- 
tion in  the  river  and  to  the  harbor  at  its  mouth. 

The  [iroposition  to  surrender  simply  inspired  promptness  in  the  m.eas- 
iin  s  projected  to  commit  the  Government  to  their  views  and  render  any 
compromise  impossible  ;  and  the  plans  for  e.xtending  the  exploration  into 
Oregon  were  hurried  forward. 

A  policy  of  delay  suggested  in  the  President's  message  required  that 
hel'ori'  any  title  to  lands  be  given  to  emigrants  in  Oregon  Territory,  "  the 
rcsp'jctive  claims  of  the  two  Governments  should  be  settled." 

The  answer  to  this  open  proposition  for  delay,  in  deference  to  the 
chiiinsof  Kngland,  was  matle  by  Senator  Linn,  of  Missouri,  who  introduced 
a  bill  to  encourage  and  protect  emigration  by  stockading  the  line  of  travel 
and  providing  for  grants  of  land. 

This  hill  gave  the  key-note  to  the  emigration  ;  though  the  bill  passed 
the  .S(;nate  it  was  not  acted  on  in  the  House,  but  the  emigrants  assumed 
;i  to  mean  government  protection. 

It  'vas  lair  to  set  out  distinctly  the  distorted  and  absurdly  erroneous 
views  entertained  concerning  the  coimtry  we  had  to  examine,  as  a  rea- 
son for  the  explorations  that  brought  to  common  knowledge  the  inex- 
haustible: riches  of  th*^'  vast  region  which,  through  years  of  obstacle,  its 
iViuiids  had  struggled  to  reclaim  from  the  possession  of  a  foreign  power. 
The  necessity  must  be  looked  at  from  conditions  existing  at  the  time,  not 
by  the  light  thrown  back  upon  them  by  the  conditions  of  to-day. 

The  following  extract  from  the  AlhctKVuni,  London,  reviewing,  in 
March,  1844,  the  tirst  report,  shows  the  undetermined  conditions  which 
also  existed  on  the  other  side  of  the  water  at  the  time.  It  concludes  :  "  It 
i-.  said  thcU  Lieutenant  Fremont  has  been  appointed  to  the  survey  of  the 
Oregon  Territory.  We  are  heartily  glad  of  it.  He  will  be  sure  to  do  his 
work  well,  and  if  our  topographical  engineers  labor  in  the  same  style  and 
MMrit.  we  may  reckon  on  obtaining,  through  their  joint  efforts,  an  accurate 
l<iio\\icdgf'  of  that  country,  so  that  we  may  be  able  to  calculate,  on  safe 
;,'rounds,  the  exact  amount  of  blood  and  treasure  which  may  be  prudendy 
ijxptjnded  in  the  conquest  of  it." 

The  second  expedition  was  to  connect  with  the  first  expedition  at  the 
South  Pass,  but  to  approach  the  mountains  on  a  different  line.  It  was 
intended  to  examine  the  broad  region  south  of  the  Columbia  River,  lying 
between  the  Rocky  Mountains  and  the  Pacific  Ocean.  In  this  way  the 
two  expeditions  would  give  a  connected  survey  of  the  interior  and  western 
half  of  the  continent. 

Eady  in  the  spring  of  1843,  I  left  Washington  with  the  whole  family, 
Mr.  Benton  having  preceded  us  to  Missouri.     Mr.  Preuss  and  Jacob  Dod- 


r 

r      '      ; 

I 


; 


ir 


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f   :' 


i  '  ! 


!t.: 


'^tifiiflN 


!'■    .1: 


i^''  !li 


■'!   '8 


1 66 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


son  were  with  us.  Jacob  was  onlv  eighteen,  but  strong  and  active  and 
nearly  six  feet  in  hel^lit.  He  was  of  the  good  colored  people  of  the  dis. 
trict,  born  free,  but  with  the  feeling  of  belonging  with  a  family  and  givin' 
to  it  unchanging  service.  Others  of  his  people  held  life-time  service  in  the 
family  of  Mr.  Benton,  and  it  was  the  ambition  of  this  boy  to  go  with  me. 
About  noon  the  stage-coach  was  climbing  up  one  of  the  Pennsylvania 
mountains — when  reaching  the  summit  it  capsized.  The  driver,  too  conli- 
dent  of  his  skill,  and  disregarding  the  shouts  of  the  wagoner,  attempted  to 
pass  one  of  those  huge  wagons  with  its  string  of  horses,  with  the  result  of 
overturning  us  into  a  gully,  the  coach  lighting  on  its  roof.  Jacob,  who  was 
on  the  box,  was  at  the  horses'  heads  before  the  coach  reached  the  gully, 
and  the  wagoner's  men  prevented  further  harm  from  frightened  animals. 

Inside  the  coach  all  was  so  silent  that  the  first  thought  was  that  all 
had  been  hurt,  but  as  they  were  drawn  out  one  by  one,  Mrs.  Benton  was 
found  to  be  the  only  one  injured.  She  had  received  a  hurt  on  the  head 
which  stunned  her,  and  made  rest  necessary,  so  that  we  remained  over 
until  next  day. 

Preuss,  who  had  gotten  out  to  enjoy  a  walk  up  the  mountain  in  the 
company  of  his  pipe,  was  not  to  be  consoled  because  he  had  not  been  part 
of  the  disaster  ;  it  was  necessary  to  remind  him  that  his  being  away  had 
saved  the  precious  barometer,  which  he  never  left  out  of  his  care. 

Chance  had  given  us  a  good  place  for  the  overset.  The  "wagon 
stand  "  near  by  stood  on  the  stony,  bleak  mountain-side  ;  it  was  one  of 
the  by-gone,  old-fashioned,  Pennsylvania  taverns,  and  the  abundant  game 
hanging  about  gave  it  now  the  appearance  of  a  rough  hunting-lodge. 
The  landlady,  who  had  seen  the  coach  go  over,  tried  to  comfort  us  by 
loading  her  table  with  every  good  thing  she  had,  or  her  housewifely  skill 
could  prepare.  The  buckwheat  cakes  were  half  an  inch  thick  and  porous 
like  a  sponge,  capable  of  absorbing  enough  of  the  good  mountain  butter 
to  support  a  man  for  a  day  ;  with  honey  from  the  buckwheat  fields,  and 
maple-syrup  from  the  forest.  The  venison  steaks  were  excellent,  broiled 
over  wood-coals.     It  was  the  native  abundance  of  that  day. 

One  may  forget  many  things  but  it  would  not  be  easy  to  efface  from 
a  traveller's  memory  this  contrast  to  many  an  after  time  ;  before  a  year  had 
passed  Preuss  and  I  had  recalled  the  stone  house  in  the  mountains  with 
its  big  fires  and  lavish  abundance  of  good  food. 

Mrs.  Fremont  was  to  remain  in  St.  Louis  during  my  absence,  which 
was  not  to  be  for  more  than  about  eight  months. 

Experience  enabled  me  to  make  my  preparations  quickly.  Among  the 
men  engaged  at  St.  Louis  for  this  journey  were  six  who  had  been  with 
me  in  the  first :  Alexis  Ayot,  Francois  Badeau,  Baptiste  Bernier,  Basi! 
Lajeunesse,  Louis  Menard  and  Raphael  Proue ;  all  good  men ;  together 


MRS.  FE^AfONT  INTERCEPTS  A   GOVERNMENT  ORDER. 


167 


with  Louis  Zindel,  Prussian  artillerist,  who  was  one  of  the  party  under 
Mr.  Nicollet  in  his  second  expedition. 

As  I  expected  to  be  much  among  Indians  who  had  for  many  years  a 
known  character  for  audacious  bravery  and  treachery,  I  applied  to  Colonel 
S.  W.  Kearny,  commanding  Third  Military  Division,  for  a  howitzer,  which 
he  furnished  me  from  the  arsenal  at  St.  Louis. 

I  had  obtained  for  guide  Mr.  Thomas  Fitzpatrick,  well  known  in  the 
mountains.  He  was  known  to  be  a  brave  man  and  had  lived  through 
rough  experiences  in  the  Indiaa  country.  On  one  occasion,  surrounded 
by  Blackfeet  in  the  Wind  River  Mountains,  all  his  party  had  been  killed 
except  himself,  but  the  peril  and  excitement  of  the  three  days  among  the 
rocks  while  the  Indians  were  searching  for  him  had  turned  his  thick  hair 
entirely  white.  He  was  still  young,  and  it  made  a  contrast  to  the  healthy 
ruddy  color  of  his  face. 

On  May  17th  I  arrived  at  the  little  town  of  Kansas,  near  the  junction  of 
die  Kansas  River  with  the  Missouri.  Maxwell,  who  will  be  remembered 
as  having  accompanied  me  in  1842,  joined  the  camp  here  to  accompany 
me  as  far  as  the  upper  Arkansas.  Carson  joined  me  as  we  reached  the 
mountains  at  a  little  Mexican  pueblo  on  the  Arkansas  River. 

In  setting  out  on  this  journey  I  made  the  acquaintanc:*  of  Major  Cum- 
mins, who  had  long  been  Indian  Agent  among  the  Delawares  and  other 
Indians,  and  a  friend  of  long-standing  to  Senator  Renton  and  valued  by 
him.  He  was  a  large,  fine-looking  man,  advanced  now  in  years,  but  staunch 
in  person  as  in  character.  His  house  was  always  open  to  me  with  a  fron- 
tier welcome,  which  means  much  ;  and  the  introduction  he  gave  me  to  the 
Shawnee  and  Delaware  Indians  gained  me  their  confidence  and  proved 
most  valuable  to  me  for  years  afterward. 

While  engaged  in  completing  my  outfit  I  received  from  Mrs.  Fremont 
a  letter  which  urged  me  to  set  out  upon  the  journey  forthwith  and  make 
at  Bents'  Fort  the  waiting  for  the  grass  to  get  its  full  strength. 

Satisfied  that  there  was  reason  for  su;n  urgency  I  ^larted  on  the  morn- 
infi[  of  the  29th,  twelve  days  only  after  reaching  Kanr.as,  and  made  my 
first  encampment  on  the  verge  of  the  great  prairies  four  miles  beyond  the 
frontier. 

It  was  not  until  my  return  that  I  learned  the  reason  why  this  sudden 
move  was  reouired  of  me. 

I  had  requested  Mrs.  Fremont  1  open  all  my  letters,  using  her  dis- 
cretion in  regard  to  forwarding  any  of  them  while  i  remained  on  the 
froiider.  But  there  came  an  official  order  from  the  head  of  my  corps. 
Colonel  Abert,  directing  me  to  return  to  Washington  in  order  to  explain 
why,  in  addition  to  ordinary  arms,  I  had  taken  a  howitzer  with  me :  that  it 
was  a  scientific  expedition — not  military — and  not  to  be  armed  as  b.ioh. 


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MEMOIRS  OF  MY  IJFE—JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


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The  flimsiness  of  this  excuse  for  breaking  up  the  expedition  after  it  had 
been  planned  and  ordered  and  in  movement,  was  so  apparent  to  Mrs. 
I'Vcmont,  as  also  was  the  true  reason  for  i:,  that  she  did  not  hesitaie  to 
suppress  the  order,  and  write  me  the  letter  which  caused  me  to  make  an 
immediate  start.  She  did  not  communicate  this  proceeding  to  Colonel 
Abert  until  I  was  far  beyond  the  reach  of  recall.  Mr.  Benton  was  not  in 
St.  Louis,  and  she  took  council  with  no  one.  She  acted  entirely  on  her 
own  knowledge,  which  was  full,  concerning  the  expedition,  and  existing 
reasons  for  opposing  it. 

I  never  knew  where  the  order  originated.  It  came  through  Colonel 
Abert.  He  was  a  (juiet  man,  not  likely  to  disturb  an  expedition  gotten 
up,  apparently,  under  his  own  direction  and,  so  far  as  he  knew,  originatinc 
with  himself  It  was  not  probable  that  I  would  have  been  recalled  from 
the  Missouri  frontier  to  Washington,  fifteen  hundred  miles  of  water  and 
stage-coach  travelling,  to  exjjlain  why  I  had  taken  an  arm  that  simplv 
served  to  increase  tht;  means  of  defence  for  a  small  party  very  certain  to 
encounter  Indian  hostility,  and  which  involved  very  trifling  expense. 

On  his  return  to  St.  Louis  Mr.  Benton  approved  Mrs.  Fremont's  ac- 
tion, and  so  wrote  to  Washington,  at  the  same  time  asking  an  explanation, 
but  there  the  subject  rested. 

I  mention  it  here  to  show  the  compliance  of  the  administration  with  the 
English  situation  in  Oregon. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


».'■* 
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My  Second  Expedition — Personnel  of  Party — Osages  make  a  Charge — Ceremonious 
Arapahoes — Prairie-dog  Village — Kit  joins  us  again — Godey  Engaged — Yampah 
River— An  Attack  by  Arapahoes — Preuss  objects  to  Kooyah — Our  Rubber  Boat. 


My  party  : ons'-ir  p:incipally  of  Creole  and  Canadian  French,  and 
Americans,  an^ountirit^  in  all  to  thirty-nine  men ;  among  whom  will  be 
recognized  several  u."  those  who  were  with  me  in  my  first  expedition,  and 
who  have  been  iavorably  brought  to  notice.  Mr.  Thomas  Fitzpatrick, 
whom  many  years  of  hardship  and  exposure  in  the  Western  territories 
had  rendered  familiar  with  a  portion  of  the  country  it  was  designed  to 
explore,  had  been  selected  as  our  guide  ;  and  Mr.  Charles  Preuss,  who 
had  been  my  assistant  in  the  previous  journey,  was  again  associated  with 
me  in  the  same  capacity  on  the  present  expedition.  Mr.  Theodore  Tal- 
bot, of  Washington  City,  had  been  attached  to  the  party,  with  a  view 
to  advancement  in  his  profession ;  and  at  St.  Louis  I  had  been  joined 
by  Mr.  Frederick  Dwight,  a  gentleman  of  Springfield,  Mass.,  who  availed 
himself  of  our  overland  journey  to  visit  the  Sandwich  Islands  and  China, 
by  way  of  Fort  Vancouver. 

The  men  engaged  for  the  serv'cc  were  :  Alexis  Ayot,  Francois  Badeau, 
Oliver  Beaulieu,  Baptiste  leiri':'.,  John  A.  Campbell,  John  G.  Campbell, 
Manuel  Chapman,  Ransoni  C'ark,  ''hilii-'.rtCoi,  teau,  Michel  Crelis,  William 
Creuss,  Clinton  Defof'est,  Baptiscf  .T"/  ^rosier,  Basil  Lajeunesse,  Francois  La- 
jeiinesse,  Henry  Lee,  Louis  Menard,  Louis  Montreuil,  Samuel  Neil,  Alexis 
I'era,  Francois  Pera,  James  Power,  Raphael  Proue,  Oscar  Sarpy,  Baptiste 
Tabeau,  Charles  Taplin,  Baptiste  Tesson,  Auguste  Vasquez,  Joseph 
Verrot,  Patrick  White,  Tiery  Wright,  and  Louis  Zindel.  Two  Delaware 
Indians — a  fine-looking  old  man  and  his  son — were  engaged  to  accompany 
the  expedition  as  hunters,  hrough  the  kindness  of  Major  Cummins,  the 
excellent  Indian  Agent. 

The  party  was  armed  gen-  i  Jly  with  Hall's  carbines,  which,  with  a  brass 
twelve-pound  howitzer,  had  heen  furnished  to  me  by  Colonel  Kearny. 
lluee  men  were  specially  detailed  for  the  management  of  this  piece,  under 


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170 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE-  JOHN  CHARLES  ERMiONT. 


the  charge  of  Zindel,  who  had  been  nineteen  years  a  non-commissioned 
officer  of  artillery  in  the  Prussian  army,  and  regularly  instructed  in  tht 
duties  of  his  profession.  The  camp-equipage  and  provisions  were  trans- 
ported in  twelve  carts,  drawn  each  by  two  mules;  and  a  light  covered 
wagon,  mounted  on  good  springs,  had  been  provided  for  the  safer  carriage 
of  the  instruments.  These  were :  One  refracting  telescope,  by  Frauen- 
hofer ;  one  reflecting  circle,  by  Gambey ;  two  sextants,  by  Troughton ; 
one  pocket  chronometer.  No.  837,  by  Goffe,  Falmouth ;  one  pocket 
chronometer.  No.  739,  by  Brockbank  ;  one  syphon  barometer,  by  Bunten, 
Paris  ;  one  cistern  barometer,  by  Frye  &  Shaw,  New  York  ;  six  thermom- 
eters, and  a  number  of  small  compasses. 

To  make  the  exploration  as  useful  as  rA>ssible,  I  determined,  in  con- 
formity to  my  general  instructions,  to  vary  .1  'te  to  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains from  that  followed  in  the  year  1842.  route  then  w^=  "n  tL 
Valley  of  the  Great  Platte  River  to  the  South  h  ■..  ,s,  in  north  latitude  42  ; 
the  route  now  determined  on  was  up  the  Valley  of  the  Kansas  River  and 
to  the  head  of  the  Arkansas,  and  to  some  pass  in  the  mountains,  if  any 
could  be  found,  at  the  sources  of  that  river. 

By  making  this  deviation  from  the  former  route,  the  problem  of  a  new 
road  to  Oregon  and  California,  in  a  climate  more  genial,  might  be  solved ; 
and  a  better  knowledge  obtained  of  an  important  river,  and  the  country  it 
drained ;  while  the  great  object  of  the  expedition  would  find  its  point  of 
commencement  at  the  termination  of  the  former,  which  was  at  that  great 
gate  in  the  ridge  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  called  the  South  Pass. 

Resuming  our  journey  on  tiie  31st,  after  the  delay  of  a  day  to  complete 
our  equipment  and  furnish  ourselves  with  some  of  the  comforts  of  civilized 
life,  we  encamped  in  the  evening  at  Elm  Grove,  in  company  with  several 
emigrant  wagons,  constituting  a  party  which  was  proceeding  to  Upper 
California  under  the  direction  of  Mr.  J.  B.  Childs,  of  Missouri.  The 
wagons  were  variously  freighted  with  goods,  furniture,  and  farming  uten- 
sils, containing  among  other  things  an  entire  set  of  machinery  for  a  mill 
which  Mr.  Childs  desiofned  erectin"-  on  the  waters  of  the  Sacramento 
River,  emptying  into  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco. 

We  were  joined  here  by  Mr.  William  Gilpin,  of  Missouri,  who,  intend- 
ing this  year  to  visit  the  settlements  in  Oregon,  had  been  invited  to  ac- 
company us,  and  proved  a  useful  and  agreeable  addition  to  the  party. 
From  this  encampment,  our  route  until  June  3d  was  nearly  the  same  as 
that  described  to  you  in  1842.  Trains  of  wagons  were  almost  constantly 
in  sight,  giving  to  the  road  a  populous  and  animated  appearance,  althouq;h 
the  greater  portion  of  the  emigrants  were  collected  at  the  crossing,  or  al- 
ready on  their  march  beyond  the  Kansas  River. 

Leaving  at  the  ford  the  usual  emigrant  road  to  the  mountains,  we  con- 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— OSAGES  MAKE  A   CHARGE. 


171 


tinned  our  route  along  the  southern  side  of  the  Kansas,  where  we  found 
the  country  much  more  broken  than  on  the  northern  side  of  the  river,  and 
where  our  progress  was  much  delayed  by  the  numerous  small  streams, 
which  obliged  us  to  make  frequent  bridges.  On  the  morning  of  the  4th 
we  crossed  a  handsome  stream,  called  by  the  Indians  Otter  Creek,  about 
one  hundred  and  thirty  feet  wide,  where  a  flat  stratum  of  limestone,  which 
forms  the  bed,  made  an  excellent  ford.  We  met  here  a  small  party  of 
Kansas  and  Delaware  Indians,  the  latter  returning  from  a  hunting  and 
trappinf  expedition  on  the  upper  waters  of  the  river  ;  and  on  the  heights 
above  were  five  or  six  Kansas  women,  engaged  in  digging  prairie  pota- 
toes {Psoralea  esculcnta).  On  the  afternoon  of  the  6th,  while  busily  en- 
fra"-ed  in  crossing  a  wooded  stream,  we  were  thrown  into  a  little  confu- 
sion by  the  sudden  arrival  of  Maxwell,  who  entered  the  camp  at  full  speed 
at  the  head  of  a  war  party  of  Osage  Indians,  with  gay  red  blankets,  and 
heads  shaved  to  the  scalp-lock.  They  had  run  him  a  distance  of  about 
nine  miles,  from  a  creek  on  which  we  had  encamped  the  day  previous, 
and  to  which  he  had  returned  in  search  of  a  runaway  horse  belonging  tc 
Mr.  Dwight,  which  had  taken  the  homeward  road,  carrying  with  him 
saddle,  bridle,  and  holster-pistols.  The  Osages  were  probably  ignorant 
of  our  strength,  and,  when  they  charged  into  the  camp,  drove  off  a  num- 
ber of  our  best  horses  ;  but  we  were  fortunately  well-mounted,  and  after 
a  hard  chase  of  seven  or  eight  miles  succeeded  in  recovering  them  all. 

This  accident,  which  occasioned  delay  and  trouble,  and  threatened 
danger  and  loss,  and  broke  down  some  good  horses  at  the  start,  and  ac- 
tually endangered  the  expedition,  was  a  first-fruit  of  having  gentlemen  in 
company — very  estimable,  to  be  sure,  but  who  are  not  trained  to  the  care 
and  vigilance  and  self-dependence  which  such  an  expedition  required,  and 
who  are  not  subject  to  the  orders  which  enforce  attention  and  exertion. 

We  arrived  on  the  8th  at  the  mouth  of  the  Smoky-hill  Fork,  which  is 
the  principal  southern  branch  of  the  Kansas  ;  forming  here,  by  its  junction 
with  the  Republican,  or  northern  branch,  the  main  Kansas  River.  Neither 
stream  was  fordable,  and  the  necessity  of  making  a  raft,  together  with  bad 
weather,  detained  us  here  until  the  morning  of  the  nth,  w-hen  we  resumed 
our  journey  along  the  Republican  Fork.  By  our  observations  the  junc- 
tion of  the  streams  is  in  latitude  39"  03'  58",  longitude  96°  24'  56",  and  at 
an  elevation  of  nine  hundred  and  twenty-six  feet  above  the  Gulf  of  Mexico. 
I'or  several  days  we  continued  to  travel  along  the  Republican,  through  a 
country  beautifully  watered  with  numerous  streams,  handsomely  timbered  ; 
and  rarely  an  incident  occurred  to  vary  the  general  resemblance  which 
one  day  on  the  prairies  here  bears  to  another,  and  which  scarcely  require 
a  particular  description.  Now  and  then  we  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  small 
herd  of  elk;  and  occasionally  a  band  of  antelopes,  whose  curiosity  some- 


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172 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


times  brought  them  within  rifle  range,  would  circle  round  us,  and  then 
scour  off  into  the  prairies.  As  we  advanced  on  our  road  these  became 
more  frequent ;  but  as  we  journeyed  on  the  line  usually  followed  by  the 
trapping  and  hunting  parties  of  the  Kansas  and  Delaware  Indians,  game 
of  every  kind  continued  very  shy  and  wild.  The  bottoms  which  form  the 
immediate  valley  of  the  main  river  were  generally  about  three  miles  wide; 
having  a  rich  soil  of  black  vegetable  mould,  and,  for  a  prairie  country,  well 
interspersed  with  wood.  The  country  was  everywhere  covered  with  a 
considerable  variety  of  grasses — occasionally  poor  and  thin,  but  far  more 
frequently  luxuriant  and  rich.  We  had  been  gradually  and  regularly  as- 
cending in  our  progress  westward,  and  on  the  evening  of  the  14th,  when 
we  encamped  on  a  little  creek  in  the  valley  of  the  Republican,  two  hundred 
and  sixty-five  miles  by  our  travelling  road  from  the  mouth  of  the  Kansas, 
we  were  at  an  elevation  of  one  thousand  five  hundred  and  twenty  feet. 
That  part  of  the  river  where  we  were  now  encamped  is  called  by  the  Indians 
the  Big  Timber.  Hitherto  our  route  had  been  laborious  and  extremely- 
slow,  the  unusually  wet  spring  and  constant  rain  having  so  saturated  the 
whole  country  that  it  was  necessary  to  bridg-:  every  water-course,  and,  for 
days  together,  our  usual  march  averaged  only  five  or  six  miles.  Finding 
that  at  such  a  rate  of  travel  it  v/ould  be  impossible  to  comply  with  my  in- 
structions, I  determined  at  this  place  to  divide  the  party,  and,  leaving  Mr. 
Fitzpatrick  with  twenty-five  men  in  charge  of  the  provisions  and  heavier 
baggage  of  the  camp,  to  proceed  myself  in  advance,  with  a  light  party  of 
fifteen  men,  taking  with  me  the  howitzer  and  the  light  wagon  which  car- 
ried the  instruments. 

'«  '  nrdingly,  on  the  morning  of  the  i6th  the  parties  separated;  and, 
bearing  a  little  out  from  the  river,  with  a  view  of  heading  some  of  the  nu- 
merou;;  affluents,  after  a  few  hours'  travel  over  somewhat  broken  ground 
we  entered  upon  an  extensive  and  high  level  prairie,  on  which  we  en- 
camped toward  evening  at  a  little  stream  where  a  single  dry  cotton-wood 
afforded  the  necessary  fuel  for  preparing  supper.  Among  a  variety  of 
grasses  which  to-day  made  their  first  appearance,  I  noticed  bunch  grass 
(  festuca)  and  buffalo  grass  {^Sesleria  dactyloides).  Amorpha  canescens 
{/cad plani)  continued  the  characteristic  plant  of  the  country,  and  a  narrow- 
leaved  latliyrus  occurred  during  the  morning  in  beautiful  patches.  Sidix 
locciiiea  occurred  frequently,  with  -a.  psoralen,  nGAV  Psora/eajloribitnda,  and 
a  number  of  plants  not  hitherto  met,  just  verging  into  bloom.  The  water 
on  which  we  had  encamjjed  belonged  to  Solomon's  Fork  of  the  Smoky- 
hill  River,  along  whose  tributaries  we  continued  to  travel  for  several  days. 

The  country  afforded  us  an  excellent  road,  the  route  being  generally 
over  high  and  very  level  prairies  ;  and  we  met  with  no  other  delay  than 
being  frequently  obliged  to  bridge  one  of  the  numerous  streams,  which 


SECOND  EXr EDITION— SOMF,  BOTANICAL  OBSERVATIONS.       .73 


were  well  timbered  with  ash,  elm,  cotton-wood,  and  a  very  large  oak — the 
latter  being,  occasionally,  five  or  six  feet  in  diameter,  with  a  spreading 
summit.  Sida  coccinsa  is  very  frequent  in  vermilion-colored  patches  on 
the  hieh  and  low  prairie  ;  and  I  remarked  that  it  has  a  very  pleasant  per- 
fume. 

The  wild  sensitive  plant  {Schrankia  angjistata)  occurs  frequently,  gen- 
erally on  the  dry  prairies,  in  valleys  of  streams,  and  frequently  on  the 
broken  prairie  bank.  I  remark  that  the  leaflets  close  instantly  to  a  very 
liijht  touch.  Amorpha,  with  the  same  psoralea,  and  a  dwarf  species  of 
lupinus,  are  the  characteristic  plants. 

On  the  19th,  in  the  afternoon,  we  crossed  the  Pawnee  road  to  the  Ar- 
kansas, and.  travelling  a  few  miles  onward,  the  prevailing  quiet  of  the  prairies 
was  suddenly  broken  by  the  appearence  of  five  or  six  buffalo  bulls,  form- 
in"  a  vanguard  of  immense  herds,  among  which  we  were  travelling  a  few 
days  afterward.  Prairie  dogs  were  seen  for  the  first  time  during  the  day  ; 
and  we  had  the  good  fortune  to  obtain  an  antelope  for  supper.  Our  ele^'a- 
tion  had  now  increased  to  one  thousand  nine  hundred  feet.  Sida  cocdnea 
was  a  characteristic  on  the  creek  bottoms,  and  buffalo  grass  is  becoming 
abundant  on  the  higher  parts  of  the  ridges. 

June  2\st. — During  the  forenoon  we  travelled  up  a  branch  of  the  creek 
on  which  we  had  encamped,  in  a  broken  country,  where,  however,  the  di- 
viding ridges  always  afforded  a  good  road.  Plants  were  few  ;  and  with 
the  short  sward  of  the  buffalo  grass,  which  now  prevailed  everywhere, 
giving  to  the  prairies  a  smooth  and  mossy  appearance,  were  mingled  fre- 
quent patches  of  a  beautiful  red  grass  {Aristida  pallcns),  which  had  made 
its  appearance  only  within  the  last  few  days. 

We  halted  to  noon  at  a  solitary  cotton-wood  in  a  hollow,  near  which 
was  killed  the  first  buffalo,  a  large  old  bull. 

Antelope  appeared  in  bands  during  the  day.  Crossing  here  to  the  af- 
fluents of  the  Republican,  we  encamped  on  a  fork  about  forty  feet  wide  and 
one  foot  deep,  flowing  with  a  swift  current  over  a  sandy  bed,  and  well 
wooded  with  ash-leaved  maple  {^Negtindo  fra xinifoHu7>i) ,  elm,  cotton-wood, 
and  a  few  white  oaks.  We  were  visited  in  the  evening  by  a  very  violent 
storm,  accompanied  by  wind,  lightning,  and  thunder ;  a  cold  rain  falling  in 
torrents.  According  to  the  barometer  our  elevation  was  two  thousand 
one  hundred  and  thirty  feet  above  the  Gulf 

At  noon  on  the  23d  we  descended  into  the  valley  of  a  principal  fork  of 
the  Republican,  a  beautiful  stream  forty  feet  wide  and  four  feet  deep,  with 
a  dense  border  of  wood,  consisting  principally  of  varieties  of  ash.  It  was 
musical  with  the  notes  of  many  birds,  which,  from  the  vast  expanse  of  si- 
lent prairie  around,  seemed  all  to  have  collected  here.  We  continued  dur- 
ing; the  aiternoon  our  route  along  the  rivdr,  which  was  populous  with  prairie 


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'74 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LTFE—JOHX  CHARLES  FRi:MONT. 


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dogs  (the  bottoms  being  entirely  occupied  with  their  villages),  and  late  in 
the  evening  encamped  on  its  banks. 

The  prevailing  timber  is  a  blue-foliaged  ash  {ftaxinus,  near  F.  Ameri- 
Cii/ia)  and  ash-leaved  maple.  With  these  were  Fraxinns  Amcrica7ta,  cot- 
ton-wood, and  long-leaved  willow.  We  gave  to  this  stream  the  name  of 
Prairie  Dog  River.  Elevation  two  thousand  three  hundred  and  fifty  feet. 
Our  road  on  the  25th  lay  over  high  smooth  ridges,  three  thousand  one 
liundred  feet  above  the  sea ;  buffalo  in  great  numbers,  absolutely  covering 
the  face  of  the  cc.mtry.  At  evening  we  encamped  within  a  few  miles  of 
the  main  Republican,  on  a  little  creek  where  the  air  was  fragrant  with  the 
l^erfume  o{  Artemisia  Jilifolia,  which  we  here  saw  for  the  first  time,  and 
which  was  now  in  bloom.  Shortly  after  leaving  our  encampment  on  the 
26th,  we  found  suddenly  that  the  nature  of  the  country  had  entirely 
changed.  Bare  sand-hills  everywhere  surrounded  us  in  the  undulating 
ground  along  which  we  were  moving  ;  and  the  plants  peculiar  to  a  sandy 
soil  made  their  appearance  in  abundance.  A  few  miles  farther  we  entered 
the  valley  of  a  large  stream,  afterward  known  to  be  the  Republican  Fork 
of  the  Kansas,  whose  shallow  waters,  with  a  depth  of  only  a  few  inches, 
were  spread  out  over  a  bed  of  yellowish-white  sand  six  hundred  yards 
wide. 

With  the  exception  of  one  or  two  distant  and  detached  groves,  no  tim- 
ber of  any  kind  was  to  be  seen  ;  and  the  features  of  the  country  assumed 
a  desert  character,  with  which  the  broad  river,  struggling  for  existence 
among  quicksands  along  the  treeless  banks,  was  strikingly  in  keeping, 
On  the  opposite  side  the  broken  ridges  assumed  almost  a  mountainous 
appearance  ;  and,  fording  the  stream,  we  continued  on  our  course  among 
these  ridges,  and  encamped  late  in  the  evening  at  a  little  pond  of  very  bad 
water,  from  which  we  drove  away  a  herd  of  buffalo  that  were  standing  in 
and  about  it. 

Our  encampment  this  evening  was  three  thousand  five  hundred  feet 
above  the  sea.  We  travelled  now  for  several  days  through  a  broken  and 
dry  sandy  region,  about  four  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  where  there 
were  no  running  streams  ;  and  some  anxiety  was  constantly  felt  on  account 
of  the  uncertainty  of  water,  which  was  only  to  be  found  in  small  lakes  that 
occurred  occasionally  among  the  hills.  The  discovery  of  these  always 
brought  pleasure  to  the  camp,  as  around  them  were  generally  green  flats, 
which  afforded  abundant  pasturage  for  our  animals  ;  and  here  were  usually 
collected  herds  of  the  buffalo,  which  now  were  scattered  over  all  the  coun- 
try in  countless  numbers. 

The  soil  of  bare  and  hot  sands  supported  a  varied  and  exuberant 
growth  of  plants,  which  were  much  further  advanced  than  we  had  previ- 
ously found  them,  and  whose  showy  bloom  somewhat  relieved  the  appear- 


SECOND  EXPEDITIOX—BIG  FEAST  JULY  FOURTH. 


175 


aiice  of  general  sterility.  Crossing  the  summit  of  an  elevated  and  continu 
ous  raive  of  rolling  hills,  on  the  afternoon  of  June  30th  we  found  ourselves 
overlooking  a  broad  and  misty  valley  where,  about  ten  miles  distant,  and 
one  thousand  feet  below  us,  the  South  Fork  of  the  Platte  was  rolling  mag- 
nificently along,  swollen  with  the  waters  of  the  melting  snows.  It  was  in 
-,trono  and  refreshing  contrast  with  the  parched  country  from  which  we  had 
just  issued  ;  and  when  at  night  the  broad  expanse  of  water  grew  indistinct, 
it  almost  seemed  that  we  had  pitched  our  tents  on  the  shore  of  the  sea. 

Travelling  along  up  the  valley  of  the  river,  here  four  thousand  feet 
above  the  sea,  in  the  afternoon  of  July  ist  we  caught  a  far  and  uncertain 
\ie\v  of  a  faint  blue  mass  in  the  west,  as  the  sun  sank  behind  it ;  and  from 
our  camp  in  the  morning,  at  the  mouth  of  Bijou,  Long's  Peak  and  the 
neiq;hboring  mountains  stood  out  into  the  sky,  grand  and  luminously  white, 
covered  to  their  bases  with  glittering  snow. 

On  the  evening  of  the  3d,  as  we  were  journeying  along  the  partially 
overtlowed  bottoms  of  the  Platte,  where  our  passage  stirred  up  swarms  of 
mosquitoes,  we  came  une.xpectedly  upon  an  Indian,  who  was  perched  on  a 
bluff,  curiously  watching  the  movements  of  our  caravan.  He  belonged  to 
,1  village  of  Oglallah  Sioux,  who  had  lost  all  their  animals  in  the  severity 
(jf  the  preceding  winter,  and  were  now  on  their  way  up  the  Bijou  Fork  to 
liei,r  horses  from  the  Arapahoes,  who  were  hunting  buffalo  at  the  head  of 
that  river.  Several  came  into  our  camp  at  noon  ;  and  i  they  were  hun- 
;;ry,  as  usual,  they  were  provided  with  buffalo  meat,  of  which  the  hunters 
had  brought  in  an  abundant  supply. 

About  noon  on  July  4th  we  arrived  at  the  fort,  where  Mr.  St.  Vrain 
received  us  with  his  customary  kindness  and  invited  us  to  join  him  in  a 
feast  which  had  been  prepared  in  honor  of  the  day. 

Our  animals  were  very  much  worn  out,  and  our  stock  of  provisions  en- 
tirely exhausted  when  we  arrived  at  the  fort ;  but  I  was  disappointed  in 
my  hope  of  obtaining  relief,  as  I  found  it  in  a  very  impoverished  condition  ; 
and  we  were  able  to  procure  only  a  little  unbolted  Mexican  flour  and  some 
salt,  with  a  few  pounds  of  powder  and  lead. 

As  regarded  provisions,  it  did  not  much  matter  in  a  country  where 
rarely  the  day  passed  without  seeing  some  kind  of  game,  and  where  it  was 
frequently  abundant.  It  was  a  rare  thing  to  lie  down  hungry,  and  we  had 
already  learred  to  think  bread  a  luxury  ;  but  we  could  not  proceed  without 
animals,  and  our  own  were  not  capable  of  prosecuting  the  journey  beyond 
the  mountains  without  relief 

1  had  been  informed  that  a  large  number  of  mules  had  recently  arrived 
at  Taos  from  Upper  California ;  and  as  our  friend  Maxwell  was  about  to 
continue  his  journey  to  that  place,  where  a  portion  of  his  family  resided, 
I  engaged  him  to  purchase  for  me  ten  or  twelve  mules,  with  the  under- 


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176 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE—JOHX  CHARLES  FRtlMONT. 


Standing  that  he  should  pack  them  with  provisions  and  other  necessaries, 
and  meet  me  at  the  mouth  of  the  Foiiiaine  qui  bouit,  on  the  Arkansas 
River,  to  which  point  I  would  be  led  in  the  course  of  the  survey. 

Agreeably  to  his  own  request,  and  in  the  conviction  that  his  habits  ot 
life  and  education  had  not  qualified  him  to  endure  the  hard  life  of  a  vova- 
geur,  I  discharged  here  one  of  my  party,  Oscar  Sarpy,  having  furnished 
him  with  arms  and  means  of  transportation  to  F"ort  Laramie,  where  lu 
would  be  in  the  line  of  caravans  returning  to  the  States. 

At  daybreak  on  July  6th  Maxwell  was  on  his  way  to  Taos  ;  and  a  few 
hours  after  we  also  had  recommenced  our  journey  up  the  Platte,  which  was 
continuously  timbered  with  cotton-wood  and  willow,  on  a  generally  saiidv 
soil.  Passing  on  the  way  the  remains  of  two  abandoned  forts  (one  of  which, 
however,  was  still  in  good  condition),  we  reached,  in  ten  miles,  Fort  Lancas- 
ter, the  trading  establishment  of  Mr.  Lupton.  His  post  was  beginning  to  as- 
sume the  appearance  of  a  comfortable  farm  :  stock,  hogs,  and  cattle,  were 
ranging  about  on  the  prairie;  there  were  different  kinds  of  poultry;  and 
there  was  the  wreck  of  a  promising  garden  in  which  a  considerable  variety 
of  vegetables  had  been  in  a  flourishing  condition,  but  it  had  been  almost 
entirely  ruined  by  the  recent  high  waters.  I  remained  to  spend  with  him  an 
agreeable  hour,  and  set  oft"  in  a  cold  storm  of  rain,  which  was  accompanied 
with  violent  thunder  and  lightning.  We  encamped  immediately  on  the 
river,  sixteen  miles  from  St.  \'^rain's.  Several  Arapahoes,  on  their  way  to 
the  village  which  was  encamped  a  few  miles  above  us,  passed  by  the  camp 
in  the  course  of  the  afternoon.  Night  set  in  stormy  and  cold,  with  heavy 
and  continuous  rain  which  lasted  until  morning. 

J  Illy  1th.  -We  made  this  morning  an  early  start,  continuing  to  travel 
up  the  Platte  ;  and  in  a  few  miles  frequent  bands  of  horses  and  mules, 
scattered  for  several  miles  round  about,  indicated  our  approach  to  the 
Arapaho  village,  which  we  found  encamped  in  a  beautiful  bottom,  and  con- 
sisting of  about  one  hundred  and  sixty  lodges.  It  appeared  extremely 
populous,  with  a  great  number  of  children  ;  a  circumstance  which  indicated 
a  regular  supply  of  the  means  of  subsistence.  The  chiefs,  who  were  gath- 
ered together  at  the  farther  end  of  the  village,  received  us  (as  probably 
strangers  are  always  received  to  whom  they  desire  to  show  respect  or  re- 
gard) by  throwing  their  arms  around  our  necks  and  embracing  us. 

It  required  some  skill  in  horsemanship  to  keep  the  saddle  during  the 
performance  of  this  ceremony,  as  our  .A.merican  horses  exhibited  for  them 
the  same  fear  they  have  for  a  bear  or  any  other  wild  animal.  Having 
very  fenv  goods  with  me,  I  was  only  able  to  make  them  a  meagre  present, 
accounting  for  the  poverty  of  the  gift  by  explaining  that  my  goods  had 
been  left  with  the  wagons  in  charge  of  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  who  was  well 
known  to  them  as  the  White-Head,  or  the  Broken  Hand.     I  saw  here,  as 


SECO.V/>  KXPEDITIOX— CEREMONIOUS  ARAPAHOES. 


'77 


I  hail  n-niarked  in  an  Arapaho  village  tlie  preceding  year,  near  the  lodges 
of  the  chitis,  tall  tripods  of  white  poles  supporting  their  spears  and  shields, 
which  showed  it  to  be  a  regular  custom. 

Thouijh  disappointed  in  obtaining  the  presents  which  had  been  evi- 
dentlv  expected,  they  behaved  very  courteously,  and  after  a  little  conver- 
sation 1  left  them,  and,  continuing  on  up  the  river,  halted  to  noon  on  the 
bluii",  as  the  bottoms  were  almost  inundated  ;  continuing  in  the  afternoon 
our  route  along  the  mountains,  which  were  dark,  misty,  and  shrouded — 
threatening  a  storm  ;  the  snow-peaks  sometimes  glittering  through  the 
cloikls  beyond  the  first  ridge. 

We  surprised  a  grizzly  bear  sauntering  along  the  river  ;  which,  raising 
himself  upon  his  hind  legs,  took  a  deliberate  survey  of  us  that  did  not  ap- 
pear very  s.'.tisfactory  to  him,  and  he  scrambled  into  the  river  and  swam 
to  the  opposite  side.  We  halted  for  the  night  a  little  above  Cherry  Creek  ; 
the  evening  cloudy,  with  many  mosquitoes. 

Some  indifferent  observations  placed  the  camp  in  latitude  39"  43'  53", 
and  chronometric  longitude  105'  24'  34". 

July  Zth. — We  continued  to-day  to  travel  up  the  Platte  ;  the  morning 
pleasant,  with  a  prospect  of  fairer  weather.  During  the  forenoon  our 
way  lay  over  a  more  broken  country,  with  a  gravelly  and  sandy  surface  ; 
although  the  immediate  bottom  of  the  river  was  a  good  soil,  of  a  dark 
sandy  mould,  resting  upon  a  stratum  of  large  pebbles,  or  rolled  stones,  as 
at  Laramie  I'ork.  On  our  right,  and  apparently  very  near,  but  probably 
eight  or  ten  miles  distant,  and  two  or  three  thousand  feet  above  us,  ran  the 
lirst  range  of  the  mountains,  like  a  dark  corniced  line,  in  clear  contrast 
with  the  great  snowy  chain  which,  immediately  beyond,  rose  glittering  five 
thousand  feet  above  them. 

We  caught  this  morning  a  view  of  Pike's  Peak ;  but  it  appeared  for  a 
moment  only,  as  clouds  rose  early  over  the  mountains,  and  shrouded  them 
in  mist  and  rain  all  the  day.  In  the  first  range  were  visible,  as  at  the  Red 
Buttes  on  the  North  P'ork,  very  lofty  escarpments  of  red  rock.  While 
travelling  through  this  region,  I  remarked  that  always  in  the  morning  the 
lofty  peaks  were  visible  and  bright,  but  very  soon  small  white  clouds  be- 
gan to  setde  around  them — brewing  thicker  and  darker  as  the  day  ad- 
vanced, until  the  afternoon,  when  the  thunder  began  to  roll ;  and  invari- 
ably at  evening  we  had  more  or  less  of  a  thunder-storm. 

.At  eleven  o'clock,  and  twenty-one  miles  from  St.  Vrain's  Fort,  we 
reached  a  point  in  this  Southern  Fork  of  the  Platte  where  the  stream  is 
divided  into  three  forks  ;  two  of  these  (one  of  them  being  much  the  larg- 
est) issuing  directly  from  the  mountains  on  the  west,  and  forming,  with  the 
easternmost  branch,  a  river  of  the  plains.  The  elevation  of  this  point  is 
about  five  thousand  five  hundred  feet  above  the  sea ;  this  river  falling  two 


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178 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  I.IFK—JOILY  CHARLES  ERflMONT. 


thousand  eight  hundred  feet  in  a  distance  of  three  hundred  and  sixteen 
miles,  to  its  junction  with  the  North  Forlv  of  tlic  I'latte.  In  tliis  ('siimate 
the  elevation  of  the  junction  is  assumed  as  given  by  our  barometrical  ob- 
servations in  1842. 

On  the  easternmost  branch,  up  which  we  took  our  way,  we  first  came 
among  the  pines  growing  on  the  top  of  a  very  high  bank,  and  where  wc 
halted  on  it  to  noon  ;  quaking  asp  (  Popultis  Ircimiloides)  was  mixed  witii 
the  cotton-wood,  and  there  were  excellent  grass  and  rushes  for  the  ani- 
mals. 

During  the  morning  we  came  across  many  beautiful  flowers,  which  we 
had  not  hitherto  met.  Among  them,  the  common  blue  flowering  flax  made 
its  first  appearance  ;  and  a  tall  and  handsome  species  oi gilia,  with  slender 
scarlet  flowers,  which  appeared  yesterday  for  the  first  time,  was  very  fre- 
ciuent  to-day. 

We  had  found  very  little  game  since  leaving  the  fort,  and  provisions 
began  to  get  unpleasantly  scant,  as  we  had  no  meat  for  several  days ;  but 
toward  sundown,  when  we  had  already  made  up  our  minds  to  sleep  an- 
other night  without  supper,  Lajeunesse  had  the  good  fortune  to  kill  a  fine 
deer,  which  he  found  feeding  in  a  hollow  near  by  ;  and  as  the  rain  bei^'an 
to  fall,  threatening  an  unpleasant  night,  we  hurried  to  secure  a  comfortable 
camp  in  the  timber. 

To-night  the  camp  fires,  girdled  with  appdas  of  fine  venison,  looked 
cheerful  in  spite  of  the  stormy  weather, 

J'uly  gf/i. — On  account  of  the  low  state  of  our  provisions  and  the  scar- 
city of  game,  I  determined  to  var\-  our  route,  and  proceed  several  camps 
to  the  eastward,  in  the  hope  of  falling  in  with  the  buffalo.  This  route 
along  the  dividing  grounds  between  the  South  Fork  of  the  Platte  and  the 
-Arkansas,  would  also  afford  some  additional  geographical  information. 
This  morning,  therefore,  we  turned  to  the  eastward,  along  the  upper  waters 
of  the  stream  on  which  we  had  encamped,  entering  a  country  of  picturesque 
and  varied  scenery  ;  broken  into  rocky  hills  of  singular  shapes  ;  little  valleys, 
with  pure  crystal  water,  here  leaping  swiftly  along,  and  there  losing  itself 
in  the  sands  ;  green  spots  of  lu.xuriant  grass,  flowers  of  all  colors,  and  tim- 
ber of  different  kinds— everything  to  give  it  a  varied  beauty,  except  game. 

To  one  of  these  remarkably  shaped  hills,  having  on  the  summit  a  circii 
lar  flat  rock,  two  or  three  hundred  yards  in  circumference,  some  one  gave 
the  name  of  Pound-cake  rock,  which  it  has  been  permitted  to  retain,  as  our 
hungry  people  seemed  to  think  it  a  very  agreeable  comparison.  In  the 
afternoon  a  buffalo  bull  was  killed,  and  we  encamped  on  a  small  stream, 
near  the  road  which  runs  from  St.  Vrain's  fort  to  the  Arkansas. 

ynly  loih. — Snow  fell  heavily  on  the  mountains  during  the  night,  and 
Pike's  Peak  this  morning  is  luminous  and  grand,  covered  from  the  summit. 


11 


sECO.yj)  Exir.DirroN-PRArRiK  doc.  village. 


«79 


a<  low  .own  as  \vc  can  see,  with  glittering  white.  Leaving  the  encamp- 
imnt  at  six  o'clock,  we  continued  our  easterly  course  over  a  rolling  coun- 
ir\,  near  to  the  high  ridges,  which  are  generally  rough  and  rocky  with  a 
coarse  conglomerate  disj:layed  in  masses,  and  covered  with  pines.  This 
rmk  is  very  friable,  and  it  is  undoul)teilly  from  its  decomposition  that  the 
nrairies  derive  their  sandy  and  gravelly  formation. 

ill  six  miles  we  crossed  a  head-water  of  the  Kioway  River,  on  which  we 
:  iiiiul  a  strong  fort  and  corral  \\\?lX.  had  been  built  in  the  spring,  and  halted 
!o  noon  on  the  principal  branch  of  the  river.  During  the  morning  our 
route  led  over  a  dark  vegetable  mould  mixed  with  sand  and  gravel,  the 
characteristic  plant  being  csparccttc  (  Onobrychis  saliva),  a  species  of  clover 
which  is  much  used  in  certain  parts  of  Germany  for  pasturage  of  stock — 
[jrincipally  hogs.  It  is  sown  on  rocky,  waste  ground,  which  would  other- 
wise be  useless,  and  grows  very  luxuriantly,  requiring  only  a  renewal  of 
the  s(;ed  aljout  once  in  fifteen  years.  Its  abundance  here  greatly  adds  to 
the  pastoral  value  of  this  region. 

.-\  species  of  antennaria  in  flower  was  very  common  along  the  line  of 
road,  and  the  creeks  were  timbered  with  willow  and  pine.  We  eih.amped 
on  Bijou's  fork,  the  wattT  of  which,  unlike  the  clear  streams  we  had  previ- 
oii'^'  ossed,  is  of  a  whitish  color,  and  the  soil  of  the  bottom  a  very  hard, 
tc  \y.     There  was  a  i)rairie-dog  village  on  the  bottom,  and,  in  the 

(jiuiecnor  to  unearth  one  of  the  little  animals,  we  labored  ineffectually  in 
the  tough  clay  until  dark.  After  descending  with  a  slight  inclination,  until 
it  had  gone  the  depth  of  two  feet,  the  hole  suddenly  turned  at  a  sharp 
angle  in  another  direction  for  one  more  foot  in  depth,  when  it  again  turned, 
taking  an  ascending  direction  to  the  next  nearest  hole.  I  have  no  doubt 
that  all  their  little  habitations  communicate  with  each  other. 

The  greater  part  of  the  people  were  sick  to-day,  and  I  was  inclined  to 
attribute  their  indisposition  to  the  meat  of  the  bull  which  had  been  killed 
the  previous  day. 

July  will. — There  were  no  indications  of  buffalo  having  been  recently 
in  the  neighborhood  ;  and,  unwilling  to  travel  farther  eastward,  I  turned 
this  morning  to  the  southward,  up  the  valley  of  Bijtui.  Esparceiie  occurred 
universally,  and  among  the  plants  on  the  river  I  noticed,  for  th  ;  first  time 
during  this  journey,  a  few  small  bushes  of  the  uosiiilhe  of  the  v  oyagei  rs, 
which  is  commonly  used  for  fire-wood  {Arlemisia  Iridenlala). 

Yesterday  and  today  the  road  has  been  ornamentet!  v, ith  the  shovy 
bloom  of  a  beautiful  lupinus,  a  characteristic  in  many  parts  of  the  moun- 
tain .egioii,  on  which  were  generally  great  numbers  of  an  insect  with  very 
hright  colors  {Lilla  vesicatoria). 

.\s  we  were  riding  quietly  along,  eagerly  searching  every  hollow  in 
search  of  game,  we  discovered,  at  a  little  distance  in   the  prairie,  a  large 


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MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRMfOjYr. 


grizzly  bear  so  busily  engaged  in  digging  roots  that  he  did  not  perceive  us 
until  we  were  galloping  down  a  little  hill  fifty  yards  from  him,  when  he 
charged  upon  us  with  such  sudden  energy  that  several  of  us  came  near 
losing  our  saddles.  Being  wounded,  he  commenced  retreating  to  a  rockv 
piny  ridge  near  by,  from  which  we  were  not  able  to  cut  him  off,  and  we 
entered  the  timber  with  him.  The  way  was  very  much  blocked  up  with 
fallen  timber  ;  and  we  kept  up  a  running  fight  for  some  time,  animated  by 
the  bear  charging  among  the  horses.  He  did  not  fall  until  after  he  hau 
received  si.x  rifle  balls.  He  was  miserably  poor,  and  added  nothing  to  our 
stock  of  provisions. 

W(;  followed  the  stream  to  its  head  in  a  broken  ridge,  which,  accordin-' 
to  the  barometer,  was  about  seven  thousand  five  hundred  feet  above  the 
sea.  This  is  a  piny  elevation  into  whicli  the  prairies  are  gathered,  and 
from  which  the  waters  flov/  in  almost  every  direction  to  the  Arkansas. 
Platte,  and  Kansas  Rivers ;  the  latter  stream  having  here  its  remotest 
sources.  Although  somewhat  rocky  and  broken,  and  covered  with  pines, 
in  comparison  with  the  neighboring  mountains  it  scarcely  forms  an  inter- 
ruption to  the  great  prairie  plains  which  sweep  up  to  their  base.i. 

The  annexed  view  of  Pike's  Peak  from  this  camp,  at  the  distance  of 
forty  milcf-,  represents  very  correctly  the  manner  in  which  this  mountain 
barrier  presents  itself  to  travellers  on  the  plains,  which  sweep  almost  di- 
rectly to  its  bases ,  an  immense  and  comparatively  smooth  and  grassy 
prairie,  in  very  strong  contrast  with  the  black  masses  of  timber,  and  thr 
glittering  snow  above  them.  This  is  thc^  picture  which  has  been  left  upnn 
my  mind,  and  its  general  features  are  given  in  the  accompanying  view. 

With  occasional  exceptions,  comparatively  so  very  small  as  not  to  re 
quire  mention,  these  prairies  are  everywhere  covered  with  a  close  and  vig- 
orous growth  of  a  great  variety  of  grassei^,  among  which  the  most  abund- 
ant is  the  buffalo-grass  (.SV^/r^/^?  dar/y/o/f/rs.)  Between  the  Platte  an  1 
Arkansas  Rivers,  that  part  of  this  region  which  forms  the  basin  drained !  y 
the  waters  of  the  Kansas,  with  which  our  0|)erations  made  us  more  [)articii- 
larly  acquainted,  is  based  upon  a  formation  of  calcareous  rocks. 

The  soil  of  all  this  country  is  excellent,  admirably  adapted  to  agric;'!- 
tural  purposes,  and  would  support  a  large  agricultural  and  pastoral  pop:.- 
lation.  The  plain  is  watered  by  mai;y  streams.  Throughout  its  western 
half  these  are  shallow  with  sandy  beds,  becoming  deeper  as  they  reach 
the  richer  lands  approaching  the  Missouri  River  ;  they  generally  have 
bottom  lands  bordered  by  bluffs  varying  from  fifty  to  five  hundred  feet  iii 
height.  In  all  this  region  the  timber  is  entirely  confi  led  to  the  streanv 
In  the  eastern  half,  where  the  soil  is  a  deep,  ricii  vegetable  moukl,  retf;> 
tive  of  rain  and  moisture,  it  is  of  vigorous  growth,  and  of  many  diften  " 
kinds;  and  throughout  the  western   half  it    consists    entirely    of  varii'"- 


rm 


jraiiunl  by 
i);irtic'.:- 


to  asjnci'l- 
)r:il  pop-,.- 
ts  western 
Bicy  roach 
[ally  have 

,;d  feet  in 
struaff^ 
lild,  rctfv 
differ-  ■' 

|)f  vari''..- 


< 

u 

0. 

■Jl 
u 

X 

u. 

o 


!  rll    i 


I 


I 


npraTTinilff 


i 


.).  I, 


1     f' 


I  I 


if 


species  of 
—growing 
existence  c 

animals,     j 

the  Sioux, 

Pawnees  ar 

is  a  war  gn 

ance  and  cc 

Uescenc 

pines,  whicl 

its  foot,  whe 

sources  of  tl 

extended  o\ 

beyond. 

As  tile  g 
day,  and  asc 
illness  was  c 

On  the 
forts,  wliich 
[irotected  by 
evening  was 
tion  of  tlie  ca 
Turning  t 
the  morninof. 
and  encampf 
Spring)  Rive 
ward  found  tl 
the  effervescii 
whicli  is  cold. 
white  flower, 
variety  of  i's/>t 
^0.    We  had 
bright  moon,  i 
eter,  at  sunse 
eii,dit  hundred 
.7///)'  13///.- 
the  thermonict 
MS,  and  the  1 
W  e  resume 
tremely  good  1 
l^aynu  Salade, 
tilt  road  was  s; 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— MY  MEN  SICK. 


i8i 


soecies  of  cotton-wood,  which  deserves  to  be  called  the  tree  of  the  desert 
—growing  in  sandy  soils,  where  no  other  tree  will  grow  ;  pointing  out  the 
existence  of  water,  and  furnishing  to  the  traveller  fuel,  and  food  for  his 
ininials.  Add  to  this  that  the  western  border  of  the  plain  is  occupied  by 
the  Sioux,  Arapaho,  and  Cheyenne  nations,  and  its  eastern  limits  by  the 
Pawnees  and  other  half-civilized  tribes  for  whom  the  intermediate  country 
is  a  war  ground  ;  and  a  tolerably  correct  idea  can  be  formed  of  the  appear- 
ance and  condition  of  the  country. 

Descending  a  somewhat  precipitous  and  rocky  hill-side  among  the 
pines,  which  rarely  appear  elsewhere  than  on  the  ridge,  we  encamped  at 
its  foot,  where  there  were  several  springs,  which  make  one  of  the  extreme 
sources  of  the  Smoky  Hill  Fork  of  the  Kansas.  From  this  place  the  view 
extended  over  the  Arkansas  Valley,  and  the  Spanish  peaks  in  the  south 
beyond. 

As  the  greater  part  of  the  men  continued  sick,  I  encamped  here  for  the 
day,  and  ascertained  conclusively,  from  experiments  on  myself,  that  their 
illness  was  caused  by  the  meat  of  the  buffalo  bull. 

On  the  summit  of  the  ridge,  near  the  camp,  were  several  rock-built 
torts,  which  in  front  were  very  difficult  of  approach,  and  in  the  rear  were 
protected  by  a  precipice  entirely  beyond  the  reach  of  a  rifle  ball.  The 
evening  was  tolerably  clear,  with  a  temperature  at  sunset  of  63°.  Eleva- 
tion of  the  camp,  seven  thousand  three  hundred  feet. 

Turning  the  next  day  to  the  southwest,  we  reached,  in  the  course  of 
the  morning,  the  wagon  road  to  the  settlements  on  the  Arkansas  River, 
and  encamped  in  the  afternoon  on  the  Fontaine-qui-botiit  (or  Boiling 
Spring)  River,  where  it  wa"  fifty  feet  wide,  with  a  swift  current.  I  after- 
ward found  that  the  spring  and  river  owe  their  names  to  the  bubbling  of 
the  effervescing  gas  in  the  former,  and  not  to  the  temperature  of  the  water 
which  is  cold.  During  the  morning  a  tall  species  of  gilia,  with  a  slender 
white  flower,  was  characteristic  ;  and  in  the  latter  part  of  the  day,  another 
variety  of  esparcettc  (wild  clover),  having  the  flower  white,  was  equally 
so.  We  had  a  fine  sunset  of  golden  brown  ;  and  in  the  evening,  a  very 
bright  moon,  with  the  near  mountains,  made  a  beautiful  scene.  Thermom- 
tter,  at  sunset,  was  69",  and  our  elevation  above  the  sea  five  thousand 
ciLjht  hundred  feet. 

'July  \^th. — The  morning  was  clear,  with  a  northwesterly  breeze,  and 
the  thermometer  at  sunrise  at  46".  There  ■  ^ere  no  clouds  along  the  moun- 
iins,  and  the  morning  sun  showed  very  clearly  their  rugged  character. 

We  resumed  our  journey  very  early  down  the  river,  follow'ng  an  ex- 
tremely good  lodge-trail,  which  issues  by  the  head  of  this  stream  from  the 
baynu  Salado,  a  high  mountain  valley  behind  Pike's  Peak.  The  soil  along 
the  road  was  sandy  and  gravelly,  and  the  river  well  timbered. 


I!: 


'i  'i/i 


!  I 


E  :i 


'*?:iw  lllj: 


182  MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 

We  halted  at  noon  under  the  shade  of  some  fine  large  cotton-woods 
our  animals  luxuriating  on  rushes  {^Equisctrim  hyemalc),  which,  along  this 
river,  were  remarkably  abundant.  A  variety  of  cactus  made  its  appear- 
ance,  and  among  several  strange  plants  were  numerous  and  beautiful  clus- 
ters  of  a  plant  resembling  ;«m?(5z7z'i-y'a/«^a,  with  a  handsome  convolvulus 
I  had  not  hitherto  seen  {calystegia). 

In  the  afternoon  we  passed  near  the  encampment  of  a  hunter  named 
Maurice,  who  had  been  out  on  the  plains  in  pursuit  of  buffalo  calves,  a 
number  of  which  I  saw  among  some  domestic  cattle  near  his  lodge. 
Shortly  aft°rvvard,  a  party  of  mountaineers  galloped  up  to  us — fine-look- 
ing and  hardy  men,  dressed  in  skins  and  mounted  on  good,  fat  horses; 
among  them  were  several  Connecticut  men,  a  portion  of  Wyeth's  party, 
whom  I  had  seen  the  year  before,  and  others  were  men  from  the  western 
States. 

Continuing  down  the  river,  we  encamped  at  noon  on  the  14th  at  its 
mouth,  on  the  Arkansas  River.  A  short  distance  above  our  encampment, 
on  the  left  bank  of  the  Arkansas,  is  a  pueblo  (as  the  Mexicans  call  their 
civilized  Indian  villages),  where  a  number  of  mountaineers,  who  had  mar- 
ried Spanish  women  in  the  valley  of  Taos,  had  collected  together  and  oc- 
cupied themselves  in  farming,  carrying  on  at  the  same  time  a  desultory 
Indian  trade.  They  were  principally  Americans,  and  treated  us  with  ali 
the  rude  hospitality  their  situation  admitted  ;  but  as  all  commercial  inttr- 
course  with  New  Mexico  was  now  interrupted,  in  consequence  of  Mexican 
decrees  to  that  effect,  there  was  nothing  to  be  had  in  the  way  of  proyi- 
sions.  They  had,  however,  a  fine  stock  of  cattle,  and  furnished  us  an 
abundance  of  excellent  milk.  I  learned  here  that  Maxwell,  in  company 
with  two  other  men,  had  started  for  Taos  on  the  morning  of  the  9th,  but 
that  he  would  probably  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Utah  Indians,  commonly 
called  Spanish  Utes. 

As  Maxwell  had  no  knowledge  of  their  being  in  the  vicinity  when  lie 
crossed  the  Arkansas,  his  chance  of  escape  was  very  doubtful  ;  but  I  diJ 
not  entertain  much  apprehension  for  his  life,  having  great  confidence  in  his 
prudence  and  courage.  I  was  further  informed  that  there  had  been  ;i  pop- 
ular tumult  among  the  pueblos,  or  civilized  Indians  residing  near  Tao>, 
against  the  ''foreigners''  of  that  place,  in  which  they  had  plundered  their 
houses  and  ill-treated  their  families.  Among  those  whose  property  haJ 
been  destroyed  was  Mr.  Reaubien,  father-in-law  o{  Maxwell,  from  whom  1 
had  expected  to  obtain  supplies,  and  who  had  been  obliged  to  make  hi^ 
escape  to  Santa  Fe. 

By  this  position  of  affairs  our  expectation  of  obtaining  supplies  from 
Taos  was  cut  off.  I  had  here  the  satisfaction  to  meet  our  good  bullalo 
hunter  of  1842,  Christopher  Carson,  whose  services  I  considered  niy^t!! 


lexical) 
irovi- 
us  an 


imoiiiy 

len  he 

.It  1  diii 

c  111  bis 

a  pop- 

'rao>, 

d  their 

rty  ha.i 

whom  1 

ake  hi- 


^s  from 


m\>^" 


I  ry^ 


fortunate 

■       necessary 

ties,  to  M 

about  sevt 

He  wa 

the  countr 

at  St.  Vraii 

of  St.  Lou 

ageur. 

Accord 

iS'  15'  23'' 
four  thousa 
On  the 
pired,  we  r 
stated  that 
26th,  in  the 
tion  was  up 
celebrated  .' 
its  upper  w; 
Our  ani 
everywiicre 
a  character!; 
to  fn-o  flowe, 
lii/is  jalapa 
tic  of  tlie  hot 
shrubs  which 
podiaceous  s 
On  the  al 
the  foot  of  ti- 
the camp  to  ( 
■^prinrrs.     In 
ternoon  over 
^11  violent  but 
the:hnndcr-s 
I  continue 
\vas  betj-inninj 
ivlifn  I  came  : 
'liamcter,  whc 
"P  in  the  mids 
"f  the  rock. 
t'lfi  hunters,  I 
'ittle  way  up  tl 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— KIT  JOIaVS  US  AGAIN. 


«83 


fortunate  to  secure  again  ;  and  as  a  reinforcement  of  mules  was  absolutely 
necessary,  I  despatched  him  immediately,  with  an  account  of  our  necessi- 
ties, to  Mr.  Charles  Bent,  whose  principal  post  is  on  the  Arkansas  River, 
about  seventy-five  miler.  below  Fontainc-qui-bouit. 

He  was  directed  to  proceed  from  that  post  by  the  nearest  route  across 
the  country,  and  meet  me  with  what  animals  he  should  be  able  to  obtain 
at  St.  Vrain's  Fort.  I  also  admitted  into  the  party  Charles  Towns — a  native 
of  St.  Louis,  a  serviceable  man,  with  many  of  the  qualities  of  a  good  voy- 

ageur. 

According  to  our  observations  the  latitude  of  the  mouth  of  the  river  is 
38°  15' 23";  its  longitude  104°  58'  30";  and  its  elevation  above  the  sea 
four  thousand  eight  hundred  and  eighty  feet. 

On  the  morning  of  the  i6th,  the  time  for  Maxwell's  arrival  having  ex- 
pired, we  resumed  our  journey,  leaving  for  him  a  note  in  which  it  was 
stated  that  I  would  wait  for  him  at  St.  Vrain's  Fort  until  the  morning  of  the 
26th,  in  the  event  that  he  should  succeed  in  his  commission.  Our  direc- 
tion was  up  the  Boiling  Spring  River,  it  being  my  intention  to  visit  the 
celebrated  springs  from  which  the  river  takes  its  name,  and  which  are  on 
its  upper  waters  at  the  foot  of  Pike's  Peak. 

Our  animals  fared  well  while  we  were  on  this  stream,  there  being 
everywhere  a  great  abundance  oi ptCle.  Ipomca  leptophylla,  in  bloom,  was 
a  characteristic  plant  along  the  river,  generally  in  large  bunches,  with  two 
to  five  flowers  on  each.  Beautiful  clusters  of  the  plant  resembling  Mira- 
hilis  jalapa  were  numerous,  and  Glycyrrhiza  Icpidota  was  a  characteris- 
tic of  the  bottoms.  Currants,  nearly  ripe,  were  abundant,  and  among  the 
shrubs  which  covered  the  bottom  was  a  very  luxuriant  growth  of  cheno- 
podiaceous  shrubs  four  to  six  feet  high. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  17th  we  entered  among  the  broken  ridges  at 
the  foot  of  the  mountains,  where  the  river  made  several  forks.  Leaving 
the  camp  to  follow  slowly,  I  rode  ahead  in  the  afternoon  in  search  of  the 
springs.  In  the  meantime  the  clouds,  which  had  been  gathered  all  the  af- 
ternoon over  the  mountains,  began  to  roll  down  their  sides  ;  and  a  storm 
so  violent  hurst  upon  me  that  it  appeared  I  had  entered  the  storehouse  of 
the  rhunder-storms. 

I  continued,  however,  to  ride  along  up  the  river  until  about  sunset,  and 
was  beginning  to  be  doubtful  of  finding  the  springs  before  the  next  day, 
when  I  came  suddenly  upon  a  large,  smooth  rock,  about  twenty  yards  in 
fliametor,  where  the  water  from  several  springs  was  bubbling  and  boiling 
up  in  the  midst  of  a  white  incrustation  with  which  it  had  covered  a  portion 
of  the  rock.  As  this  did  not  correspond  with  a  description  given  me  by 
the  hunters,  I  did  not  stop  to  taste  the  water,  but,  dismounting,  walked  a 
httle  way  up  the  river,  and,  passing  through  a  narrow  thicket  of  shrubbery 


W 


•    \\ 


ffi 


I    i 


^^i;ill 


:[;  il     i|.:  i 


184  MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 

bordering  the  stream,  stepped  directly  upon  a  huge  white  rock,  at  the  foot 
of  which  the  river,  already  become  a  torrent,  foamed  along,  broken  by  a 
small  fall. 

A  deer  which  had  been  drinking  at  the  spring  was  startled  by  my  ap- 
proach, and,  springing  across  the  river,  bounded  off  up  the  mountain.  In 
the  upper  part  of  the  rock,  which  had  apparently  been  formed  by  deposi- 
tion,  was  a  beautiful  white  basin,  overhung  by  currant  bushes,  in  which 
the  cold,  clear  water  bubbled  up,  kept  in  constant  motion  by  the  escaping; 
gas,  and  overflowing  the  rock,  which  it  had  almost  entirely  covered  with  a 
smooth  crust  of  glistening  white.  I  had  all  day  refrained  from  drinkinf', 
reserving  myself  for  the  spring ;  and  as  I  could  not  well  be  more  wet  than 
the  rain  had  ah'jady  made  me,  I  lay  down  by  the  side  of  the  basin,  and 
drank  heartily  of  the  delightful  water. 

The  accompanying  sketch  is  only  a  rude  one,  but  it  will  give  somi.- 
idea  of  the  character  of  the;  scen(*ry  and  the  beauty  of  this  spot,  imme- 
diately at  the  foot  of  lofty  mountains,  beautifully  timbered,  which  sweep 
closely  round,  shutting  up  the  little  valley  in  a  kind  of  cove.  As  it  was  be- 
ginning to  grow  dark,  I  rode  quickly  down  the  river,  on  which  I  found  the 
camp  a  few  miles  below. 

The  morning  of  the  18th  was  beautiful  and  clear,  and,  all  the  peopL- 
being  anxious  to  drink  of  these  famous  waters,  we  encamped  immediate!; 
at  the  springs,  and  spent  there  a  very  pleasant  day.  On  the  opposite  side 
of  the  river  is  another  locality  of  springs,  which  are  entirely  of  the  sanv 
nature. 

The  water  has  a  very  agreeable  taste,  which  Mr.  Preuss  found  very 
much  to  resemble  that  of  the  famous  Selters  Springs,  in  the  Grand  Duchy 
Nassau,  a  country  famous  for  wine  and  mineral  waters ;  and  it  is  almost 
of  entirely  of  the  same  character,  though  still  more  agreeable  than  that  ot 
the  famous  fieer  Springs,  near  Hear  River  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake. 

The  following  is  an  analysis  of  an  incrustation  with  which  the  water  had 
covered  a  piece  of  wood  lying  on  the  rock  : 

Caibonntu  of  lime 92.25 

C.ubi)niito  of  niaj^nesia. ...    1.21 

SuIpluUc  of  lime  j 

Chloride  of  calcium     > o.2j 

Chloride  of  inagiicbia  ) 

Silica 1.50 

W'^aable  matter o.:o 

Moisture  and  loss 4-''' 

100.00 

At  eleven  o'clock,  when  the  temperature  of  the  air  was  "jt,",  that  ot  the 
water  in  this  was  O0.5   ;  and  that  of  the  upper  spring,  which  issued  from 


.25 


i 


T77"^ 


rV^V 


ii      i; 


m 


ii  I 


I , 


•!    Ii 


it 


■ 


I,         :S 


^    '  I'^^I 


',•  I 


!i  I 


1 

' 

■I 

■1 

; 

1 

SECOND  EXPEDITION— SELTERS  SPRING. 


•8s 


the  flat  rock,  more  exposed  to  the  sun,  was  69^  At  sunset,  when  the 
temperature  of  the  air  ',  as  66^  that  of  the  lower  spring  was  58',  and  that 
of  the  upper  61°. 

July  igih- — A  beautiful  and  clear  morning,  with  a  slight  breeze  from 
the  northwest ;  the  temperature  of  the  air  at  sunrise  being  57.5°.  At  this 
time  the  temperature  of  the  lower  spring  was  57.8,  and  that  of  the  upper 

54.3  . 

The  trees  in  the  neighborhood  were  birch,  willow,  pine,  and  an  oak  re- 
sembling Quftcus  alba.  In  the  shrubbery  along  the  river  are  currant 
bushes  {ribes),  of  which  the  fruit  has  a  singular  piny  flavor ;  and  on  the 
mountain  side,  in  a  red,  gravelly  soil,  is  a  remarkable  coniferous  tree  (per- 
haps an  abies),  having  the  leaves  singularly  long,  broad,  and  scattered, 
with  bushe  >f  Spircea  aricefolia.  By  our  observations  this  place  is  six 
thousand  three  hundred  and  fifty  feet  above  the  sea,  in  latitude  38°  52'  10", 
and  longitude  105'  22'  45". 

Resuming  our  journey  on  this  morning,  we  descended  the  river  in  or- 
der to  reach  the  mouth  of  the  eastern  fork,  which  I  proposed  to  ascend. 
The  left  bank  of  the  river  here  is  very  much  broken.  There  is  a  handsome 
little  bottom  on  the  right,  and  both  banks  are  exceedingly  picturesque — 
;  frata  of  red  rock,  in  nearly  perpendicular  walls,  crossing  the  valley  from 
north  to  sout'i. 

About  il'.rpe  iiiles  below  the  springs,  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river,  is  a 
nearly  perpendicular  limestone  rock,  presenting  a  uniforn\ly  unbroken  sur- 
face, twenty  to  forty  feet  high,  containing  very  great  nunibers  of  a  large 
univalve  slu;ll,  which  appears  to  belong  to  the  genus  tnoceramus,  and  in 
the  appendix  is  designated  by  the  No.  42. 

In  contact  with  this,  to  the  westward,  was  another  stratum  of  limestone, 
containing  fossil  shells  of  a  different  character ;  and  still  higher  up  on  the 
stream  were  parallel  strata,  consisting  of  a  compact,  somewhat  crystalline 
limestone,  and  argillaceous  bituminous  limestone  in  thin  layers.  Durmg 
the  morning  we  travelled  up  the  eastern  fork  of  the  Fontaine-qui-bouit 
River,  our  road  being  roughened  by  frequent  deep  gullies  timbered  with 
|H..  ii.  1  halted  to  noon  on  a  small  branch  of  this  stream,  timbered  prin- 
cipally with  the  narrow-leaved  cotton-wood  {Populus  angusit/olia),  called 
by  the  Cuiadians  Liard amcre. 

On  „  iill  near  by  were  two  remarkable  columns  of  a  grayish-whice  con- 
glomerate rock,  one  of  whirh  was  about  twenty  feet  high,  and  two  feet  in 
liameter.  They  are  surmounted  by  slabs  of  a  dark  ferruginous  conglom- 
trate,  forming  black  aps,  and  adding  very  much  to  their  columnar  effect 
at  a  distance.  This  rock  is  very  destructible  by  the  action  of  the  weather, 
and  the  hill,  of  which  they  formerly  constituted  a  part,  is  entirely  abraded. 
A  shaft  of  the  gun-carriage  was  broken  in  the  afternoon  ;  and  we  made 


f 


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I 


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i 


I 


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i) 


I'  ( 


186 


MEMOI  iS  OF  MY  LIFE- JOHN  CHARLES  FREMO.^T. 


an  early  halt,  the  stream  being  from  ."-welve  to  twenty  feet  wide,  with  clear 
water.     As  usual,  the  clouds  had  gathered  to  a  storm  over  the  mountains 
and  we  had  a  showery  evening.     At  sunset  the  thermometer  stood  at  6: 
and  our  elevation  above  the  sea  was  six  thousdnd  five  hundred  and  thirt)  i(;et, 

July  20th. — This  morning  (as  we  generally  found  the  mornings  under 
these  mountains)  was  very  dear  and  beautiful,  and  the  air  cool  and  pleas- 
ant, with  the  thermometer  at  44°.  We  continued  our  march  up  the  stream, 
between  pine  hills  on  the  one  h:md,  and  the  main  Black  Hills  on  the  other, 
along  a  green  sloping  bottom,  toward  the  ridge  which  separates  the  waters 
of  the  Platte  from  those  of  the  Arkansas. 

As  we  approached  the  dividing  ridge  the  v/hole  valley  was  radiant 
v.'ith  flowers  ;  blue,  yellow,  pink,  white,  scarlet,  and  purple  vied  with  each 
other  in  splendor.  Esparcette  was  one  of  the  highly  characteristic  plants, 
and  a  bright-looking  flower  {^Gaillardia  aristata)  was  very  frequent;  but 
the  most  abundant  plant  along  our  road  to-day  was  Gera7iium  maculalum, 
which  is  the  characteristic  plant  on  this  portion  of  the  dividing  grounds, 

Crossing  to  the  waters  of  the  Platte,  fields  of  blue  flax  added  to  the 
magnificence  of  this  mountain  garden  ;  this  was  occasionally  four  feet  in 
height,  which  was  a  luxuriance  of  growth  that  I  rarely  saw  this  almost  uni- 
versal plant  attain  throughout  the  journey.  Continuing  down  a  branch  of 
the  Platte,  among  high  and  very  steep  timbered  hills,  covered  with  fra<;- 
ments  of  rock,  toward  evening  wc  issued  from  the  piny  region,  and  made 
a  late  encampment  near  Poundcake  Rock,  on  that  fork  of  the  river  which  we 
had  ascended  on  July  8th.  Our  animals  enjoyed  the  abundant  rushes  this 
evening,  as  the  flies  were  so  bad  among  the  pines  that  they  had  been 
much  harassed. 

A  deer  was  killed  here  this  evening ;  and  again  the  evening  was  over- 
cast, and  a  collection  of  brilliant  red  clouds  in  the  west  was  followed  by 
the  customary  squall  of  rain. 

Achillea  millefolium  (milfoil)  was  among  the  characteristic  plants  of 
the  river  bottoms  to-day.  This  was  one  of  the  most  common  plants  dur- 
ing the  whole  of  our  journey,  occurring  in  almost  every  variety  of  situation, 
I  noticed  it  on  the  lowlands  of  the  rivers,  near  the  coast  of  the  Pacific,  and 
near  to  the  snow  among  the  mountains  of  the  Sierra  Nevada. 

During  this  excursion  we  had  surveyed  to  its  head  one  of  the  two  prin- 
cipal branches  of  the  Upper  Arkansas,  seventy  five  miles  in  length,  and  en- 
tirely completed  our  survey  of  the  South  Fork  of  the  Platte  to  the  extreme 
sources  of  that  portion  of  the  river  which  belongs  to  the  plains  and  heads 
in  the  broken  hills  of  the  Arkansas  dividing  ridge  at  the  foot  of  the  moun- 
tains. That  portion  of  its  waters  which  were  collected  among  these 
mountains  it  was  hoped  to  explore  on  our  homeward  voyage. 

Reaching  St.  Vrain's  Fort  on  the  nu  rning  of  the  23d,  we  found  Mr,  Fitz- 


I  i 


plants  of 

)lants  diir- 

f  situation, 
'acific,  and 

iJ^ 

:  two  prill- 

iif 

.h,  and  en- 

1 

le  extreme 
aiic^  heads 

the  moiin- 

ong  these 

d  Mr.  Fitz- 


UTAH    INDIAN 


I 


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!ii    ' 


i     ! 


SI. 

patrick  : 

true  and 

the  necc 

Mr.  ] 

the  conn 

this  coun 

was  an  a 

we  fared 

small  pig 

Mr.  Fitzp 

been  occi 

ficial  to  hi 

I  had 

acter  of  tl: 

always  be 

of  which  V 

venient  pc 

it  to  roach, 

place  cons 

river.    It  i.s 

find  no  on 

their  weste 

recesses  ha 

dividiials — 

of  each  yea 

It  will  Ij 

their  villag- 

Cheyenne 

their  arrival 

principal  mc 

tains,  whom 

nearly  thirt 

liad  grown  < 

Through 

of  the  war-p 

and  occasior 

southward  a 

,?ling  lodges 

parties  had 

found  iinexp( 

'iifl  a  hot  pii 

"lalii  they  ha 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— FG^NB  FITZPATRICK  AND  PARTY.       187 

Patrick  and  his  party  in  good  order  and  excellent  health,  and  with  him  my 
true  and  reliable  friend,  Kit  Carson,  who  had  brought  ten  good  mules  with 
the  necessary  pack-taddles. 

Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  vho  had  often  endured  every  extremity  of  want  during 
the  course  of  his  mountain  life,  and  knew  well  the  value  of  provisions  in 
this  country,  had  watched  over  our  stock  with  jealous  vigilance  ;  and  there 
was  an  abundance  of  flour,  rice,  sugar,  and  coffee  in  the  camp ;  and  again 
we  fared  luxuriously.  Meat  was,  however,  very  scarce ;  and  two  very 
small  pigs,  which  we  obtainv-.'  at  the  fort,  did  not  go  far  among  forty  men. 
Mr.  Fitzpatrick  had  been  here  a  week,  during  which  time  his  men  had 
been  occupied  in  refitting  the  camp  ;  and  the  repose  had  been  very  bene- 
ficial to  his  animals,  which  were  now  in  tolerably  good  condition. 

I  had  been  able  to  obtain  no  certain  information  in  regard  to  the  char- 
acter of  the  passes  in  this  portion  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  range,  which  had 
always  been  represented  as  impracticable  for  carriages,  but  the  exploration 
(if  which  was  incidentally  contemplated  with  the  view  of  finding  some  con- 
venient point  of  passage  for  the  road  of  emigration,  which  would  enable 
it  to  reach,  on  a  more  direct  line,  the  usual  ford  of  the  Great  Colorado — a 
place  considered  as  determined  by  the  nature  of  the  country  beyond  that 
river.  It  is  singular  that,  immediately  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  I  could 
find  no  one  sufficiently  acquainted  with  them  to  guide  us  to  the  plains  at 
their  western  base ;  but  the  race  of  trappers  who  formerly  lived  in  their 
recesses  has  almost  entirely  disappeared— dwindled  to  a  few  scattered  in- 
dividuals— some  one  or  two  of  whom  are  regularly  killed  in  the  course 
of  each  year  by  the  Indians. 

It  will  be  remembered  that,  in  the  previous  year,  I  brought  with  me  to 
their  village,  near  this  post,  and  hospitably  treated  on  the  way,  several 
Cheyenne  Indians  whom  I  had  met  on  the  Lower  Platte.  Shortly  after 
their  arrival  here,  these  were  out  with  a  party  of  Indians  (themselves  the 
principal  men),  which  discovered  a  few  trappers  in  the  neighboring  moun- 
tains, whom  they  immediately  murdered,  although  one  of  them  had  been 
nearly  thirty  years  in  the  country,  and  was  perfectly  well  known,  as  he 
had  grown  gray  among  them. 

Through  this  portion  of  the  mountains,  also,  are  the  customary  roads 
of  the  war-parties  going  out  against  the  I'tah  and  Shoshonee  Indians; 
and  occasionally  parti-^'s  from  the  Crow  nation  make  their  way  down  to  the 
southward  along  this  chain,  in  the  expectation  of  surprising  some  strag- 
gling lodges  of  their  enemies.  Shortly  before  our  arrival,  one  of  their 
parties  had  attacked  an  Arapaho  village  in  the  vicinity,  which  they  had 
found  unexpectedly  strong  ;  and  their  assault  was  turned  into  a  rapid  flight, 
and  a  hot  pursuit,  in  vvhich  they  had  been  compelled  to  abandon  the  ani- 
mals they  had  ridden,  and  escape  on  their  war-horses. 


\   la 


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r  j;:     - 

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1,   :•[: 

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r:\      V       1 

1 

1 88 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FR£M0NT. 


Into  this  uncertain  and  dangerous  region  small  parties  of  three  or  four 
trappers  who  now  could  collect  together  rarely  ventured ;  and  conse 
quently  it  was  seldom  v 'sited  and  little  known.  Having  determined  to  try 
the  passage  by  a  pass  through  a  spur  of  the  mountains  made  by  the  Cliche- 
i(-la-Po2idre  River,  which  rises  in  the  high  bed  of  mountains  around  Loner's 
Peak,  I  thought  it  advisable  to  avoid  any  encumbrance  which  would  occa- 
sion detention,  and  accordingly  again  separated  the  party  into  two  divi- 
sions— one  of  which,  under  the  command  of  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  was  directed 
to  cross  the  plains  to  the  mouth  of  Laramie  River,  and,  continuing  thence 
its  route  along  the  usual  emigrant  road,  meet  me  at  Fort  Hall,  a  post  be- 
longing to  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  and  situated  on  Snake  River,  as  it 
is  commonly  called  in  the  Oregon  Territory,  although  better  known  to  us 
as  Lewis'  Fork  of  the  Columbia.  The  latter  name  is  there  restricted  to 
one  of  the  upper  forks  of  the  river. 

Our  Delaware  Indians  having  determined  to  return  to  their  homes,  it 
became  necessary  to  provide  this  party  with  a  good  hunter  ;  and  I  accord- 
ingly engaged  in  that  capacity  Alexander  Godey,  a  young  man  about 
twenty-five  years  of  age,  who  had  been  in  this  country  six  or  seven  years, 
all  of  which  time  he  had  been  actively  employed  in  hunting  for  the  support 
of  the  posts,  or  in  solitary  trading  e.xpeditions  among  the  Indians. 

In  courage  and  professional  skill  he  was  a  formidable  rival  to  Carson, 
and  constantly  afterwards  was  among  the  best  and  most  efficient  of  the 
party,  and  in  difficult  situations  was  of  incalculabh;  value.  Hiram  Powers, 
one  of  the  men  belonging  to  Mr.  Fitzpatrick's  party,  was  discharged  at 
this  f  lace. 

A  French  engage  at  Lupton's  Fort  had  been  shot  in  the  back  on  July 
4th,  and  died  during  our  absence  to  the  Arkansas.  The  wife  of  the  mur- 
dered man,  an  Indian  woman  of  the  Snake  nation,  desirous,  like  Naomi  of 
old,  to  return  to  hrx  people,  requested  and  obtained  permission  to  travel 
with  my  party  to  the  neighborhood  of  Bear  River,  where  she  expected  to 
meet  with  some  of  their  villages.  Happier  than  the  Jewish  widow,  she 
carried  with  her  two  children,  pretty  little  half  breeds,  who  added  much  to 
the  liveliness  of  the  camp.  Her  baggage  was  carried  on  five  or  six  pack- 
horses  ;  and  I  gave  her  a  small  tent,  for  which  I  no  longer  had  any  use,  as 
I  had  procured  a  lodge  at  the  fort. 

For  my  own  party  I  selected  the  following  men,  a  number  of  whom  old 
associations  rendered  agreeable  to  me : 

Charles  Preuss,  Christopher  Carson,  Basil  Lajeunesse,  I'Vanc^ois  Ba- 
deau,  Jean  Baptiste  Bernier,  Louis  Menard,  Raphael  Proue,  Jacob  Dod- 
son,  Louis  Zindel,  Henry  Lee,  Jean  Baptiste  Derosier,  Francois  LajeU' 
ni'sse,  and  Auguste  Vasquez. 

By  observation  the  latitude  of  the  post  is  40"  16'  11  ,  and  its  longitiidt 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— GODEY  ENGAGED. 


1S9 


jQ.'  12'  23",  depending,  with  all  the  other  longitudes  along  this  portion  of 
the  line,  upon  a  subsequent  occultation  of  September  13,  1843,  to  which 
they  are  referred  by  the  chronometer. 

Its  distance  from  Kansas  Landing,  by  the  road  we  travelled  (which,  it 
will  be  remembered,  was  very  winding  along  the  Lower  Kansas  River),  was 
seven  hundred  and  fifty  miles.  The  rate  of  the  chronometer,  determined 
by  observations  at  this  place  for  the  interval  of  our  absence,  during  this 
month,  was  H-Ti' ,  which  you  will  hereafter  see  did  not  sensibly  change 
durino-  the  ensuing  month,  and  remained  nearly  constant  during  the  re- 
mainder of  our  journey  across  the  continent.  This  was  the  rate  used  in 
referring  to  St.  Vrain's  Fort,  the  longitude  between  that  place  and  the 
mouth  of  the  Fontainc-qui-botiit. 

Our  various  barometrical  observations,  which  are  better  worthy  of  con- 
fidence than  the  isolated  determination  of  1842,  give,  for  the  elevation  of 
the  fort  above  the  sea,  four  thousand  nine  hundred  and  thirty  feet.  The 
barometer  here  used  was  also  a  better  one,  and  less  liable  to  derangement. 

At  the  end  of  two  days,  which  was  allowed  to  my  animals  for  necessary 
repose,  all  the  arrangements  had  been  completed,  and  on  the  afternoon  of 
the  26th  we  resumed  our  respectiv<-  routes.  Some  little  trouble  was  ex- 
perienced in  crossing  the  Platte,  the  waters  of  which  were  still  kept  up  by 
rains  and  melting  snow  ;  and,  having  travclltxl  only  about  four  miles,  we 
encamped  in  the  evening  on  Thompson's  Creek,  where  we  were  very  mucli 
disturbed  by  mosquitoes. 

The  following  days  we  continued  our  march  westward  over  comparative 
plains,  and,  fording  the  CdcIic-a-la-Pottdrc  on  the  morning  of  the  28th,  en- 
tered the  Black  Hills,  and  nooned  on  this  stream  in  the  mountains  beyond 
them.  Passing  over  a  fine  large  bottom  in  the  afternoon,  we  reached  a 
place  where  the  river  was  shut  up  in  the  hills;  antl,  ascending  a  ravine, 
made  a  laborious  and  very  difficult  passage  around  by  a  gap,  striking  the 
river  again  about  dusk.  A  little  labor,  however,  would  remove  this  diffi- 
culty, and  render  the  road  to  this  point  a  very  excellent  one.  The  evening 
closed  in  dark,  with  rain,  and  the  mountains  looked  gloomy. 

July  2C)t/i. — Leaving  our  encampment  about  seven  in  the  morning,  we 
travelled  until  three  in  the  afternuv,.i  along  the  river,  which,  lor  this  distance 
i)f  about  six  miles,  rims  directly  through  a  spur  of  the  main  mountains. 

We  were  compelU^d  by  the  nature  of  the  ground  to  cross  the  river  eight 
or  nine  times  at  difficult,  deep,  and  rocky  fords,  the  stream  running  wiih 
%KdA  force,  swollen  by  the  rains  -a  true  mountain  torrent,  only  forty  or 
fifty  feet  wide.  It  was  a  mountain  valh^y  of  the  narrowest  kind — almost  a 
chasm ;  and  the  scenery  very  wild  ami  beautiful. 

Towering  mountains  rose  round  about ;  their  sides  sometimes  dark  with 
lorests  of  pine,  and  sometimes  with  lofty  precipices,  washed  b)-  the  river ; 


:         ■  i    ■     !i 


I  <W 


t 


:M 


I . 

'      I'll 


i     III 


! 

,1 

[1 

1, 

M  1, 

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,1 

; 

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1 

1 

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190 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LfFE—JOHN  CHARLES  FRp.MONT. 


while  below,  as  if  they  indemnified  themselves  in  luxuriance  for  the  scanty 
space,  the  green  river  bottom  was  covered  with  a  wilderness  of  flowers 
t.ieir  tall  spikes  sometimes  rising  above  our  heads  as  we  rode  among  them. 
\  profusion  of  blossoms  on  a  white  flowering  vine  {^Clevtatis  lasianthi), 
uhich  was  abundant  along  the  river,  contrasted  handsomely  with  the  green 
foliage  of  the  trees.  The  mountain  appeared  to  be  composed  of  a  greenish 
gray  and  red  granite,  which  in  some  places  appeared  to  be  in  a  state  of 
decomposition,  making  a  red  soil. 

The  stream  was  wooded  with  cotton-wood,  box-elder,  and  cherry,  with 
c  urrantand  service-berry  bushes.  After  a  somewhat  laborious  day,  durini' 
which  it  had  rained  incessant!)-,  we  encamped  near  the  end  of  the  pass  at 
the  mouth  of  a  small  creek,  in  sight  of  the  great  Laramie  Plains. 

It  continued  to  rain  heavily,  and  at  evening  the  mountains  were  hid  in 
mists ;  but  there  was  no  lack  of  wood,  and  the  large  fires  we  made  to  drv 
our  clothes  were  very  comfortabhi ;  and  at  night  the  hunters  came  in  with 
a  fine  deer.  Rough  and  difficult  as  we  found  the  pass  to-day,  an  excellem 
road  may  be  made  with  a  little  labor.  Elevation  o(  the  camp  five  thousand 
five  hundred  and  forty  feet,  and  distance  from  Si.  Vrain's  Fort  fifty-six 
miles. 

yuly  2)Ofk. — The  day  was  bright  again  ;  the  thermometer  at  sunrise  52' ; 
and  leaving  our  encampment  at  eight  o'clock,  in  about  half  a  mile  we 
crossed  the  Cachc-a-la-Poiidrc  River  for  the  last  time;  and,  cnteriiitj a 
smoother  country,  we  travelled  along  a  kind  of  vallon,  bounded  on  the 
right  by  red  buttes  and  precipices,  while  to  the  left  a  high  rolling  country 
extended  to  a  range  of  the  Black  Hills,  beyond  which  rose  the  great  moun- 
tains around  Long's  Peak. 

By  the  great  quantity  of  snow  visible  among  them,  it  had  probably 
snowed  heavily  there  the  previous  day,  wdiile  it  had  rained  on  us  in  the 
valley. 

We  halted  at  noon  on  a  small  branch  ;  and  in  the  afternoon  travelled 
over  a  high  country,  gradually  ascending  toward  a  range  oi  butlcs,Qx\\\<^\ 
hills  covered  with  pines,  which  forms  the  dividing  ridge  between  the  waters 
we  had  left  and  those  of  Laramie  River. 

Late  in  the  evening  we  encamped  at  a  spring  of  cold  water,  near  the 
summit  of  the  ridge,  having  increased  our  elevation  to  seven  thousand  live 
hundred  and  twenty  feet.  During  the  day  we  had  travelled  twenty-four 
miles.  By  some  indifferent  observations  our  latitude  is  41^  02'  19  .  A 
species  of  hcdcome  was  characteristic  along  the  whole  day's  route. 

l'"merging  from  the  mountains,  we  entered  a  region  of  bright,  fair 
weather.  In  my  experience  in  this  country  I  was  forcibly  impressed  with 
the  different  character  of  the  climate  on  opposite  sides  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tain rantje.     The  vast  prairie  plain  on  the  east  is  like  the  ocean  ;  the  rain 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— A  BEAUTIFUL  COUNTRY. 


191 


and  clouds  from  the  constantly  evaporating  snow  of  the  mountains  rushing 
down  into  the  heated  air  of  the  plains,  on  which  you  will  have  occasion  to 
remark  the  frequent  storms  of  rain  we  encountered  during  our  journey. 

July  o^st. — The  morning  was  clear;  temperature  48'.  A  fine  rolling 
road,  among  piny  and  grassy  hills,  brought  us  this  morning  into  a  large 
trail  where  an  Indian  village  had  recently  passed.  The  weather  was 
pleasant  and  cool ;  we  were  disturbed  by  neither  mosquitoes  nor  flies  ;  and 
die  country  was  certainly  extremely  beautiful. 

The  slopes  and  broad  ravines  were  absolutely  covered  with  fields  of 
(lowers  of  the  most  excjuisitely  beautiful  colors.  Among  those  which  had 
not  hitherto  made  their  appearance,  and  which  here  were  characteristic, 
was  anew  dclphiniutu,  of  a  green  and  lustrous  metallic-blue  color,  mingled 
with  compact  fields  of  several  bright-colored  varieties  of  asimgahis,  which 
were  crowded  together  in  splendid  profusion.  This  trail  conducted  us 
dirough  a  remarkable  defile  to  a  little  timbered  creek,  up  which  we  wound 
our  way,  passing  by  a  singular  and  massive  wall  of  dark-red  granite. 

The  formation  of  the  country  is  a  red  feldspathic  granite,  overlying  a 
decomposing  mass  of  the  same  rock,  forming  the  soil  of  all  this  region, 
wiiich  everywhere  is  red  and  gravelly,  and  appears  to  be  of  a  great  floral 
fertility. 

As  we  emerged  on  a  small  tributary  of  the  Laramie  River,  coming  in 
sight  of  its  principal  stream,  the  flora  became  i^erfectly  magnificent ;  and 
we  congratulated  ourselves,  as  we  rode  along  our  pleasant  road,  that  we 
had  substituted  this  for  the  uninteresting  country  between  Laramie  Mills 
aiul  the  Sweet  W^ater  Valley.  We  had  no  meat  for  supper  last  night,  or 
breakfast  this  morning,  and  were  glad  to  see  Carson  come  in  at  noon  with 
a  good  antelope. 

A  meridian  observation  of  the  sun  placed  us  in  latitude  41°  04'  06."  In 
the  evening  we  encamped  on  the  Laramie  River,  which  is  here  very  thinly 
timbered  with  scattered  groups  of  cotton-wood  at  considerable  intervals. 
From  our  camp  we  are  able  to  distinguish  the  gorges  in  which  are  the 
sources  of  Cache-a-la-Poudre  and  Laramie  Rivers  ;  and  the  Medicine  Bow 
Mountain,  toward  the  point  of  which  we  are  directing  our  course  this  after- 
noon, has  been  in  sight  the  greater  part  of  the  day. 

By  observation  the  latitude  was  41"^  15' 02",  and  longitude  106'  16'  54". 
The  same  beautiful  flora  continued  till  about  four  in  the  afternoon,  when  it 
suddenly  disappeared  with  the  red  soil,  which  became  sandy  and  of  a  whit- 
ish-gray color.  The  evening  was  tolerably  clear ;  temperature  at  sunset 
64.    The  day's  journey  was  thirty  miles. 

August  isL — The  morning  was  calm  and  clear,  with  sunrise  tempera- 
ture at  42.  We  travelled  to-day  over  a  plain,  or  open  rolling  country,  at 
the  loot  of  the  Medicine  Bow  Mountain  ;  the  soil  in  the  morning  being 


!'■     I 


I.,  r      : 
;  S  i  f 


I  I 


II         J 


192 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


sandy,  with  fragments  of  rock  abundant ;  and  in  the  afternoon,  when  we 
approached  closer  to  the  mountain,  so  stony  that  we  made  but  little  way. 

The  beautiful  plants  of  yesterday  reappeared  occasionally  ;  flax  in 
bloom  occurred  during-  the  morning,  and  esparcette  in  luxuriant  abundance 
was  a  characteristic  of  the  stony  ground  in  the  afternoon.  The  camp  was 
roused  into  a  little  excitement  by  a  chase  after  a  buffalo  bull,  and  an  en- 
counter with  a  war-party  of  Sioux  and  Cheyenne  Indians  about  thirty 
strong.  Hares  and  antelope  were  seen  during  the  day,  and  one  of  the  lat- 
ter was  killed.  The  Laramie  Peak  was  in  sight  this  afternoon.  The 
evening  was  clear,  with  scattered  clouds :  temperature  62°.  The  day's 
journey  was  twenty-six  miles. 

Atigust  2a^.— Temperature  at  sunrise  52^,  and  scenery  and  weather 
made  our  road  to-day  delightful.  The  neighboring  mountain  is  thickly 
studded  with  pines,  intermingled  with  the  brighter  foliage  of  aspens,  and 
occasional  spots  like  lawns  between  the  patches  of  snow  among  the  pines, 
and  here  and  there  on  the  heights.  Our  route  below  lay  over  a  compara- 
tive plain  covered  with  the  same  brilliant  vegetation,  and  the  day  was 
clear  and  pleasantly  cool. 

During  the  morning  we  crossed  many  streams,  clear  and  rocky,  and 
broad  grassy  valleys,  of  a  strong  black  soil  washed  down  from  the  moun- 
tains and  producing  excellent  pasturage.  These  were  timbered  with  the 
red  willow  and  long-leaved  cotton-wood,  mingled  with  aspen,  as  we  ap- 
proached the  mountain  more  nearly  toward  noon.  Esparcette  was  a  char- 
acteristic, and  flax  occurred  frequently  in  bloom.  We  halted  at  noon  on 
the  most  western  fork  of  Laramie  River^ — a  handsome  stream  about  six 
ty  feet  wide  and  two  feet  deep,  with  clear  water  and  a  swift  current  over 
a  bed  composed  entirely  of  bowlders  or  roll-stones.  There  was  a  large 
open  bottom  here,  on  which  were  many  lodge-poles  lying  about ;  and  in 
the  edge  of  the  surrounding  timber  were  three  strong  forts  that  appeared 
to  have  been  recently  occupied. 

At  this  place  I  became  first  acquainted  with  the  yampah  [Anethum 
f^raveolcns),  which  I  found  our  Snake  woman  engaged  in  digging  in  the 
low-timbered  bottom  of  the  creek.  Among  the  Indians  along  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  and  more  particularly  among  the  Shoshonee  or  Snake  Indians, 
in  whose  territory  it  is  very  abundant,  this  is  considered  the  best  among 
the  roots  used  for  food.  To  us  it  was  an  interesting  plant — a  little  link 
between  the  savage  and  civilized  life.  Here,  among  the  Indians,  its  root 
is  a  common  article  of  food,  which  they  take  pleasure  in  offering  to  stran- 
gers ;  while  with  us,  in  a  considerable  portion  of  America  and  Europe,  the 
seeds  are  used  to  flavor  soup.  It  grows  more  abundantly  and  in  greater 
luxuriance  on  one  of  the  neighboring  tributaries  of  the  Colorado  than  in 
any  other  part  of  this  region  ;  and  on  that  stream,  to  which  the  Snakes  are 


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SECOND  EXPEDITION— YAMP AH  RIVER. 


'9? 


accustomed  to  resort  every  year  to  procure  a  supply  of  their  favorite  plant, 
they  ii'vc  bestowed  the  name  of  Yampah  River.  Among  the  trappers  it 
is  (rer  jrally  known  as  Little  Snake  River  ;  but  in  this  and  other  instances 
where  it  illustrated  the  history  of  the  people  inhabiting  the  country,  I  have 
preferred  to  retain  on  the  map  the  aboriginal  name. 

By  a  meridional  observation  the  latitude  is  41°  45'  59", 

In  the  afternoon  we  took  our  way  directly  across  the  spurs  from  the 
point  of  the  mountain,  where  we  had  several  ridges  to  cross  ;  and,  al- 
thouf'h  the  road  was  not  rendered  bad  by  the  nature  of  the  ground,  it  was 
made  extremely  rough  by  the  stiff,  tough  bushes  o{  Artemisia  tridentata* 
in  this  country  commonly  called  sage. 

This  shrub  now  began  to  make  its  appearance  in  compact  fields ;  and 
we  were  about  to  quit  for  a  long  time  this  country  of  excellent  pasturage 
and  brilliant  flowers. 

Ten  or  twelve  buffalo  bulls  were  seen  during  the  afternoon ;  and  we 
were  surprised  by  the  appearance  of  a  large  red  ox.  We  gathered  around 
him  as  if  he  had  been  an  old  acquaintance,  with  all  our  domestic  feelings 
as  much  awakened  as  if  we  had  come  in  sight  of  an  old  farm-house.  He 
had  probably  made  his  escape  from  some  party  of  emigrants  on  Green 
River;  and,  with  a  vivid  remembrance  of  some  old  green  field,  he  was  pur- 
suing the  straightest  course  for  the  frontier  that  the  country  admitted.  We 
carried  him  along  with  us  as  a  prize  ;  and  when  it  was  found  in  the  morn- 
ing that  he  had  wandered  off,  I  would  not  let  hirn  be  pursued,  for  I  would 
rather  have  gone  through  a  starving  time  of  three  entire  days  than  let  him 
be  killed  after  he  had  successfully  run  the  gauntlet  so  far  among  the  In- 
dians. 

1  have  been  told  by  Mr.  Bent's  people  of  an  ox,  born  and  raised  at  St. 
V'rain's  Fort,  which  made  his  escape  from  them  at  Elm  Grove,  near  the 
frontier,  having  come  in  that  year  with  the  wagons.  They  were  on  their 
way  out,  and  saw  occasionally  places  where  he  had  eaten  and  lain  down 
to  rest ;  but  did  not  see  him  for  about  seven  hundred  miles,  when  they 
overtook  him  on  the  road,  travelling  along  to  the  fort,  having  unaccount- 
ably escaped  Indians  and  every  other  mischance. 

We  encamped  at  evening  on  the  principal  fork  of  Medicine  Row  River, 
near  to  an  isolated  mountain  called  the  Medicine  Butte,  which  appeared  to 
be  about  eighteen  hundred  feet  above  the  plain,  from  which  it  rises  ab- 
riipdy,  and  was  still  white,  nearly  to  its  base,  with  a  great  quantity  of 
snow.  The  streams  were  timbered  with  the  long-leaved  cotton-wood  and 
red  willow  ;  and  during  the  afternoon  a  species  of  onion  was  very  abundant. 

•The  greater  portion  of  our  subsequent  journey  was  through  a  region  where  this  shrub  consti- 
tuted the  tree  of  the  country  ;  and  as  it  will  often  be  mentioned  in  occasional  descriptions,  the 
«ord  artemisia  only  will  be  used,  without  the  specific  name. 


,1 


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I     1 


I-   I 


'!     I 


W' 


ill 


194 


MEMOIRS  or  MY  LIFK—JOIIX  CHARLES  FRIiMONT. 


I  obtained  iiere  an  immersion  of  the  first  satellite  of  Jupiter,  which, 
corresijonding  very  nearly  with  the  chronometer,  placed  us  in  loiijritude 
106^  47'  25".  The  latitude,  by  observation,  was  41°  2>l'  16";  elevation 
above  the  sea  seven  thousand  eight  hundred  feet,  and  distance  from  St. 
N'rain's  Fort  one  hundred  and  forty-seven  miles. 

August  yi. — There  was  a  white  frost  last  niyht ;  the  morning  is  cluar 
and  cool.  We  were  earlj-  aw  the  road,  having'  breakfasted  before  sunrise, 
and  in  a  few  miles'  travel  entered  the  pass  of  the  Medicine  Butte,  throu<'h 
which  led  a  liroad  trail  whicii  ha^l  been  recently  travelled  bj-  a  very  lart^i- 
party.  Immediately  in  the  pass  the  road  was  broken  by  ravines,  and  wc 
were  obliged  to  clear  a  way  through  groves  of  aspens,  which  geiicrallv 
made  their  appearance  when  we  reached  elevated  regions.  According  to 
the  barometer  this  was  eight  thousand  three  hundred  feet ;  and  while  \vt; 
were  detained  in  opening  a  road,  I  obtained  a  meridional  observation  of 
the  sun,  which  gave  41'  ,^5'  48"  for  th<!  latitude  of  the  pass.  The  Medi- 
cine Butte  is  isolateil  1)\'  a  small  tributary  of  the  North  Fork  of  the  Platte, 
but  the  mountains  approach  each  other  very  nearly,  the  stream  running 
at  their  feet.  On  ihf.-  south  they  are  smooth,  with  occasional  streaks  of 
pine  ;  but  the  butte  itself  is  ragged,  wiih  escarpments  of  red  feldspathic 
granite,  and  dark  with  pines  ;  the  snow  reaching  from  the  summit  to  within 
a  few  hundred  feet  of  the  trail. 

The  granite  here  was  more  compact  and  durable  than  that  in  the  for- 
mation which  we  had  passed  through  a  few  days  before  to  the  eastward  of 
Laramie.  Continuing  our  way  over  a  plain  on  the  west  side  of  the  pass, 
where  the  road  was  terribly  rough  with  aitemisia,  we  made  our  evenini^ 
encampment  on  the  creek,  where  it  took  a  northern  direction,  unfavorable 
to  the  course  we  were  pursuing. 

Bands  of  buffalo  were  discovered  as  we  came  down  upon  the  plain ; 
and  Carson  brought  into  the  camp  a  cow  which  had  the  fat  on  the  fleece 
two  inches  thick.  Even  in  this  country  of  rich  pasturage  and  abundant 
game  it  is  rare  that  the  hunter  chances  upon  a  finer  animal.  Our  voyage 
had  already  been  long,  but  this  was  the  first  good  buffalo  meat  we  had 
obtained.     We  travelled  to-day  twenty-si.\  miles. 

August  ^th. — The  morning  was  clear  and  calm  ;  and,  leaving  the 
creek,  we  travelled  toward  the  North  F^ork  of  the  Platte,  over  a  plain  which 
was  rendered  rough  and  broken  by  ravines.  With  the  exception  of  some 
thin  grasses  the  sandy  soil  here  was  occupied  almost  exclusively  by  arte- 
misia,  with  its  usual  turpentine  odor.  We  had  expected  to  meet  with 
some  difficulty  in  crossing  the  river,  but  happened  to  strike  it  where  there 
was  a  very  excellent  ford,  and  halted  at  noon  on  the  left  bank,  two  hun- 
dred miles  from  St.  Vrain's  Fort. 

The  hunters  brought  in  pack-animals  loaded  with  fine  meat.     Accord- 


.sy:c().vj>  i:.\i'iu)iTJOx -A  I'KECiPirous  descent. 


«95 


iiiij  to  our  imperfect  knowledge  of  the  country  there  should  have  been  a 
small  aftliient  to  this  streaivi  a  few  miles  higher  up ;  and  in  the  afternoon 
\u'  continued  our  way  among  the  river  hills,  in  the  expectation  of  encamp- 
iii'  upon  it  in  the  evening.  The  ground  proved  to  be  so  exceedingly 
ililhciilt,  broken  up  into  hills,  terminating  in  escarpments  and  broad  ravines 
tivi-  or  six  hundred  feet  deep,  with  sides  so  precipitous  that  we  could 
-carcely  find  a  place  to  descend,  that,  toward  sunset,  I  turned  directly  in 
inward  the  riv(;r,  and,  after  nightlall,  entered  a  sort  of  ravine.  We  were 
obliged  to  feel  our  way  and  clear  a  road  in  the  darkness,  the  surface 
beini''  much  broken,  and  the  progress  of  the  carriages  ijeing  greatly  ob- 
structed by  the  artemisia,  which  had  a  luxuriant  growth  of  four  to  six  feet 
In  hfiijfht. 

Wc  luul  scrambled  along  this  gully  for  several  hours,  during  which  we 
had  knocked  off  the  carriage-lamps,  broken  a  thermometer  and  several 
small  articles,  when,  fearing  to  lose  something  of  more  importance,  I  halted 
for  the  night  at  ten  o'clock.  Our  animals  were  turned  down  toward  the 
river,  that  the)-  might  pick  up  what  little  grass  they  could  fmd  ;  and  after 
a  litde  search  some  water  was  found  in  a  small  ravine,  and  improved  by 

ili,i,r,o;ing 

Wo  lighted  up  the  ravine  with  fires  of  artemisia,  and  about  midnight 
sat  down  to  a  supper  which  we  were  hungry  enough  to  find  delightful, 
althouofh  the  buffalo  meat  was  crusted  with  sand  and  the  cuffee  was  bitter 
with  the  wormwood  taste  of  the  artemisia  leaves. 

.A  successful  day's  hunt  had  kept  our  hunters  occupied  until  late,  and 
they  slept  out,  but  rejoined  us  at  daybreak,  when,  finding  ourselves  only 
about  a  mile  from  the  river,  we  followed  the  ravine  down,  and  camped  in 
a  cotton-wood  grove  on  a  beautiful  grassy  bottom,  where  our  animals  in- 
demnified themselves  fjr  the  scanty  fare  of  the  past  night.  It  was  quite  a 
pretty  and  pleasant  jjlace  :  a  narrow  strip  of  prairie  aboit  five  hundred 
yards  long  terminated  at  the  ravine  where  wc  entered  by  high  precipitous 
hills  closing  in  upon  the  river,  and  at  the  upper  end  by  a  ridge  of  low, 
rolling  hills. 

In  the  precipitous  bluffs  w'ere  displayed  a  succession  of  strata  contain- 
iac;  fossil  vegetable  remains  and  several  beds  of  coal.  In  some  of  the 
beds  the  coal  did  not  appear  to  be  perfectly  mineralized  ;  and  in  some  of 
the  seams  it  was  compact  and  remarkably  lustrous.  In  these  latter  places 
there  were,  also,  thin  layers  of  a  very  fine  white  salts,  in  powder. 

As  we  had  a  large  supply  of  meat  in  the  camp,  which  it  was  necessary 
to  dry,  and  the  surrouiuling  country  appeared  to  be  well  stocked  with 
buhalo,  which  it  was  probable,  after  a  day  or  two,  we  would  not  see  again 
until  our  return  to  the  Mississippi  waters,  I  determined  to  make  here  a 
['revision  of  dried  meat,  which  would  be  necessary  for  our  subsistence  in 


I!     * 


i  ; 


-r-'-wTTT" 


•H: 


!       f 


!: 


196 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


the  region  we  were  about  entering,  which  was  said  to  be  nearly  destitutt; 
of  game.  Scaffolds  were  accordingly  soon  erected,  fires  made,  and  tht 
meat  cut  into  thin  slices  to  be  dried ;  ind  ail  were  busily  occupied,  when 
the  camp  was  thrown  Into  a  sudder.  tumult  by  a  charge  from  about  seventv 
mounted  Indians,  over  the  low  hills  at  the  upper  end  of  the  little  bottom. 

Fortunately,  the  guard,  who  was  between  tlicm  and  our  animals,  had 
caught  a  glimpse  of  an  Indian's  heati,  as  he  raised  himself  in  his  stirrups 
to  look  over  the  hill,  a  moment  before  he  made  the  charge,  and  succeeded 
in  turning  the  band  into  the  camp,  as  the  Indians  charged  into  the  bottom 
with  the  usual  yell.  Before  they  reached  us,  the  grove  on  the  verge  of 
the  little  bottom  was  occupied  h\  our  people,  and  the  Indians  brought  to 
a  sudden  halt,  which  they  made  in  time  to  save  themselves  from  a  howitzer 
shot,  which  would,  undoubtedl\ ,  have  been  very  eft'ective  in  such  a  com- 
pact body,  anil  further  proceedings  were  interrupted  by  their  .igns  for 
peace.  They  proved  to  be  a  war-party  of  Arapaho  and  Cheyenne  Indiaiiy 
and  informed  us  that  thej'  had  charged  upon  the  camp  under  the  belief 
that  we  were  hostile  Indians,  and  had  discovered  their  mistake  only  at  the 
moment  of  the  attack — an  excuse  which  policy  required  us  to  receive  as 
true,  tb.nigh  under  the  full  conviction  that  the  dis[)la\-  of  our  little  howitzer 
and  our  favorable  position  in  the  grove,  certainly  saved  our  horses,  z\v. 
probably  ourst^lves,  from  their  marauding  intentions.  They  had  been  on 
a  war- party,  and  had  been  defeated,  and  were,  consequently,  in  a  state  of 
mind  which  aggravates  their  innate  thirst  for  plunder  and  blood.  Their 
excuse,  however,  was  taken  in  good  part,  and  the  usual  evidences  of 
friendship  int'rrchanged.  The  pipe  went  round,  provisions  were  spread, 
and  the  tobacco  and  goods  furnished  t\\v.  customary  presents,  which  th<\ 
look  for  even  from  traders,  and  mucii  more  from  <iovernment  author- 
ities. 

They  were  returning  froiii  an  ex[)editio!i  against  the  Slujshonec  Indi- 
ans, one  of  whose  villages  they  hatl  surprised,  at  'iridger's  b'ort,  on  Ham's 
Fork  of  Green  River  (in  the  absence  of  the  men,  who  were  engaged  in  an 
antelope  surround),  and  succeeded  in  carrying  off  their  horses,  and  takin<; 
several  scalps.  News  of  the  attack  reached  the  Snakes  immediately,  wln^ 
pursued  and  overtook  them,  and  recov  ered  their  horses  ;  and,  in  the  run 
ning  fight  which  ensued,  the  Arapahocs  had  lost  several  men  killed,  and  a 
nund)er  wounded,  who  were  coming  on  more  slowly  with  a  party  in  tlv 
rear.  Nearly  all  the  horses  they  had  brought  off  were  the  pro[)erty  ofthf 
whites  at  the  fort.  After  remaining  until  hvjarly  sunset,  they  took  their  lie 
parture  ;  and  the  excitement  which  their  arrival  had  afforded  subsided  inti' 
our  usual  quiet,  a  little  enlivened  by  the  vigilance  rendered  necessary  by 
the  neighborhood  of  our  uncertain  visitors.  IKx.  noon  the  thermometer  \va 
at  75",  at  sunset  ;u',  and  the  evening  clear. 


^Svi ' 


'    II 

•i  ;i| 

''''■'   il 

■ 

■  'i 

ii 

M 


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UTAH   INDIAN. 


i  fk     CI, 


(  ' 


I 


Eleva 
latitude  ^ 

clear  and 

Ijarren  an 

in  the  evt 

sprini^s,  v 

pretty  litti 

ing'  amon^ 

slieep  {O'i 

Our  re 

iiiisia,  wliii 

that  it  was 

and  nearh 

wliich  we 

ridge  betw 

to  a  consid 

rock,  at  the 

rawed  am 

mountainoi 

longiny  nei 

in  the  sand 

From  ai 

Me  in  the  i: 

tlie  range  o 

further  attei 

turned  our  c 

•Vater  River 

'•lusing-a  co 

lore  we  succ 

little  water  ii 

■shrubs.     All 

(lurino-  the  d; 

-pnts  where  i 

!!lil-'S  of  the.  J 

"lain-  places  ^ 
of  shallow  la 
among  which 
diaraoteristic 
^'rowing  with 
possession  of 
On  the  ev 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— AN  ATTACK  BY  ARAPAHOES. 


»97 


Elevation  above  the  sea,  six  thousand  eight  hundred  and  twenty  feet  ; 

latitude  41'  3^'  00"  ;  longitude  107    22'  27". 

Au'^ust  6lh.  -At  sunrise  the  thermometer  was  46°,  the  morning  being 
,lear  and  calm.  We  travelled  to-da\/  over  an  extremely  rugged  country, 
barren  and  uninteresting — nothing  to  be  seen  but  artemisia  bushes  ;  and, 
in  the  evening,  found  a  grassy  spot  among  the  hills,  kept  green  by  several 
sprini'^s,  where  we  encamped  late.  Within  a  few  hundred  yards  was  a  very 
nrettv  little  stream  of  clear  cool  water,  whose  green  banks  looked  refresh- 
in<''  among  the  dry  rocky  hills.  The  hunters  brought  in  a  fat  mountain 
sheep  {Ovis  montana). 

Our  road  the  next  day  was  through  a  continued  and  dense  field  of  arte- 
iiii^ia,  which  now  entirely  covered  the  country  in  such  a  luxuriant  growth 
that  it  was  difficult  and  laborious  for  a  man  on  foot  to  force  his  way  through, 
and  nearly  impracticable  for  our  light  carriages.  The  region  through 
which  we  were  travelling  was  a  high  plateau,  constituting  the  dividing 
ndi,fe  between  the  watcs  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  Oceans,  and  extending 
to  a  considerable  distance  southward,  from  the  neighborhood  of  the  Table 
rock,  at  the  southern  side  of  the  South  Pass.  Though  broken  up  into 
lUi^ged  and  rocky  h.lls  *"  a  dry  and  barren  nature,  it  has  nothing  of  a 
•nountainoiis  charactei  ,  die  small  streams  which  occasionally  occur  be- 
!oni,nng  neither  to  the  Platte  nor  the  Colorado,  but  losing  themselves  either 
11  thi-  sand  or  in  small  lakes. 

From  an  eminence,  in  the  afternoon,  a  mountainous  range  became  vis- 
Me  in  tlu'  )rth,  in  which  were  recognized  some  rocky  peaks  belonging  to 
the  range  oi  the  Sweet  Water  V' alley  ;  and,  determining  to  abandon  any 
further  attempt  to  struggle  through  this  almost  impracticable  country,  we 
turned  our  course  directly  north,  tovard  a  pass  in  the  valley  of  the  Sweet 
Water  River.  A  shaft  of  the  gun-can  lage  was  broken  during  the  afternoon, 
uiusinga  considerable  delay  ;  and  it  was  late  in  an  unpleasant  evening  be- 
fore we  succeeded  in  finding  a  very  poor  encampment,  where  there  was  a 
little  water  in  a  deep  trench  of  a  creek,  and  some  scanty  grasr-,  among  the 
shrubs.  All  the  game  here  consisted  in  a  few  straggling  buffalo  bulls,  and 
(lurino  the  day  there  had  been  but  very  little  grass,  except  in  some  green 
^pots  where  it  had  collected  around  springs  or  shallow  lakes.  Within  fifty 
milies  ot  the  Sweet  Water,  the  country  changed  into  a  vast  saline  plain,  in 
main  places  extn  inely  le^el,  occasionally  resembling  the  flat  sandy  beds 
ol  shallow  lakes.  Here  the  vegetation  consisted  of  a  shrubby  growth, 
among  which  were  several  varieties  of  ckcnopodiaceous  plants ;  but  the 
characteristic  shrub  was  Fremontia  vcrmicularis,  with  smaller  saline  shrubs 
^'rowing  with  singular  luxuriance,  and  in  many  places  holding  exclusive 
I'osscssion  of  the  ground. 

On  the  evening  of  the  8th,  we  ericamped  on  one  of  these  fresh  water 


P7T*""PW" 


.!  i    t  1 


f  \. 


'    i      If 


.98 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  IJFE—JOHN  CHARLES  FRp.MONT. 


WA 


'      I 


i'  li.  I  i*'  |i 


■1    j;       1 

i 

''        i 

i           1'    :    : 

'J           ■     "i 

I            :   ! 

t        ■■     ; 

'        '1      '\ 

1  1 

5    'i    • 

:  ■    .  "! 

I, 

;    1 


ir!  »i^' 


lakes,  which  the  traveller  considers  himself  fortunate  to  find  ;  and  the  next 
day,  in  latitude  by  observation  42 '  20'  06",  halted  to  noon  immediately  at 
the  foot  of  the  southern  side  of  the  range  which  walls  in  the  Sweet  Water 
Valley,  on  the  hf^ad  of  a  small  tributary  to  that  river. 

Continuing  in  the  afternoon  our  course  down  the  stream,  which  here 
cuts  directly  through  the  ridge,  forming  a  very  practicable  pass,  we  entered 
the  valley  ;  and,  after  a  march  of  about  nine  miles,  encamped  on  our  famil- 
iar river,  endeared  to  us  by  the  acquaintance  of  the  previous  expedition 
the  night  having  already  closed  in  with  a  cold  rain-storm.  Our  camp  was 
about  twenty  miles  above  the  Devil's  Gate,  which  we  had  been  able  to  see 
in  coming  down  the  plain  ;  and,  in  the  course  of  the  night,  the  clouds  broke 
away  around  Jupiter  for  a  short  time,  during  which  we  obtained  an  immer- 
sion of  the  first  satellite,  the  result  of  which  agreed  ver)'  nearly  with  the 
chronometer,  giving  for  the  mean  longitude  107^  50'  07"  ;  elevation  above 
the  sea,  six  thousand  and  forty  feet  ;  and  distance  from  St.  Vrain's  Fort,  by 
the  road  we  had  just  travelled,  three  hundred  and  fifteen  miles. 

Here  passes  the  road  to  Oregon  ;  and  the  broad,  smooth  highway, 
where  the  numerous  heavy  wagons  of  the  emigrants  had  entirely  beaten 
and  crushed  the  artemisia,  was  a  happy  exchange  to  our  poor  animals  for 
the  sharp  rocks  and  tough  shrubs  among  which  they  had  been  toiling  sn 
long  ;  and  we  moved  up  the  valley  rapidly  and  pleasantly.  With  very 
little  deviation  from  our  route  of  the  preceding  year,  we  continued  up  the 
valley;  and,  on  the  evening  of  the  12th,  encamped  on  the  Sweet  Water, 
at  a  point  where  the  road  turns  off  to  cross  to  the  plains  of  Green  River, 
The  increased  coolness  of  the  weather  indicated  that  we  had  attained  a 
great  elevation,  which  the  barometer  here  placed  at  seven  thousand  two 
hundred  and  twenty  feet  ;  and  during  the  night  water  froze  in  the  lodge. 

The  morning  of  the  13th  was  clear  and  cold,  there  being  a  white  frost; 
and  the  thermometer,  a  little  before  sunrise,  standing  at  26.5''.  Leavins:^ 
this  encampment  (our  last  on  the  waters  which  flow  toward  the  rising; 
sun)  we  took  our  way  along  the  upland,  toward  the  dividing  ridge  whidi 
separates  the  Atlantic  from  the  Pacific  waters,  and  crossed  it  by  a  road 
some  miles  further  south  than  the  one  we  had  followed  on  our  return  in 
1842.  We  crossed  very  near  the  Table  Mountain,  at  the  southern  extrem- 
ity of  the  South  Pass,  which  is  near  twenty  miles  in  width  and  already 
traversed  by  several  different  roads. 

Selecting  as  well  as  I  could,  in  the  scarcely  distinguishable  ascent,  what 
might  be  considered  the  dividing  ridge  in  this  remarkable  depression  in 
the  mountain,  I  took  a  barometrical  observation,  which  gave  seven  thou- 
sand four  hundred  and  ninety  feet  for  the  elevation  above  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico.  On  my  visit  of  the  preceding  year,  I  estimated  the  elevation  ol 
this  pass  at  about  seven  thousand  feet ;  a  correct  observation  with  a  good 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— GREEN  RIVER. 


199 


barometer  enables  me  now  to  give  it  with  more  precision.  Its  importance, 
as  the  great  gate  through  which  commerce  and  travelHng  may  hereafter 
pass  between  the  valley  of  the  Mississippi  and  the  North  Pacific,  justifies  a 
precise  notice  of  its  locality  and  distance  from  leading  points,  in  addition 
to  this  statement  of  its  elevation.  Its  latitude  at  the  point  where  we  crossed 
is  42"  24'  32"  ;  its  longitude,  109°  26'  00"  ;  its  distance  from  the  mouth  of 
the  Kansas,  by  the  common  travelling  route,  nine  hundred  and  sixty-iwo 
miles ;  from  the  mouth  of  the  Gr(;at  Platte,  along  the  valley  of  that  /iver, 
according  to  our  previous  survey,  eight  hundred  and  eighty-two  miles  ; 
and  its  distance  from  St.  Louis  about  four  hundred  miles  more  by  the  Kan- 
sas, and  about  seven  hundred  by  the  Great  Platte  route — these  additions 
beinc  steamboat  conveyance  in  both  instances.  F"rom  this  pass  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Oregon  is  about  one  thousand  six  hundred  miles  by  the  com- 
mon travelling  route ;  so  that,  under  a  general  point  of  view,  it  may  be 
assumed  to  be  about  half-way  between  the  Mississippi  and  the  Paciilc 
Ocean  on  the  common  travelling  route. 

Following  a  hollow  of  slight  and  easy  descent,  in  which  was  very  soon 
formed  a  little  tributary  to  the  Gulf  of  California  (for  the  waters  which  flow 
west  from  the  South  Pass  go  to  this  gulf),  we  made  our  usual  halt  four 
miles  from  the  pass,  in  latitude  by  observation  42°  19'  53".  Entering  here 
the  valley  of  Green  River — the  great  Colorado  of  the  West — and  inclining 
very  much  to  the  southward  along  the  streams  which  form  the  Sandy 
River,  the  road  led  for  several  days  over  dry  and  level  uninteresting 
plains ;  to  which  a  low,  scrubby  growth  of  artemisia  gave  a  uniform  dull, 
grayish  color  ;  and  on  the  evening  of  the  15th  we  encamped  in  the  Mexi- 
can Territory,  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Green  River,  sixty-nine  miles  from 
the  South  Pass,  in  longitude  no"  05'  05",  and  latitude  41"  53'  54",  distant 
one  thousand  and  thirty-one  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  Kansas.  This  is 
tilt;  emigrant  road  to  Oregon,  which  bears  much  to  the  southward  to  avoid 
the  mountains  about  the  western  heads  of  Green  River — the  Rio  Verde  of 
the  Spaniards. 

Ano^Hst  \6th. — Crossing  the  river,  here  about  four  hundred  feet  wide, 
by  a  very  good  ford,  we  continued  to  descend  for  seven  or  eight  miles  on 
a  pleasant  road  along  the  right  bank  of  the  st/eam,  of  which  the  islands 
and  shores  are  handsomely  timbered  with  cotton-wood.  The  refreshing 
appearance  of  the  broad  river,  with  its  timberetl  shores  and  green-wooded 
islands,  in  contrast  to  its  dry  sandy  plains,  probably  obtained  for  it  the 
name  of  Green  River,  which  was  bestowed  on  it  by  the  Spaniards,  wh'^ 
first  came  into  this  country  to  trad*  some  twenty-five  years  ago.  It  was 
th(;n  familiarly  known  as  the  Seed-s-kedc'c-agic,  or  Prairie  Hen  {ictrao  uro- 
phasian7(s)  River  ;  a  name  which  is  rex-riveci  from  the  Crows,  to  whom  its 
upper  waters  belong,  and  on  which  this  birJ  is  still  verv  abundant. 


I W' 


I    11 


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I 

13 


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w 


\a     i 
1     I 


200 


Arj^AW/R.S  OF  MY  UFK-JOHX  CHARLES  FRiiMONT. 


Ry  tho  Slioshonee  and  Utah  Indians,  to  wliom  l)elongs,  for  a  consider- 
able distance  btdow,  tlic  country  where  we  were  now  travelHno-,  it  was 
called  the  P-itter-root  River,  from  the  ;^reat  abundance  in  its  valley  ot  a 
plant  which  afibrds  then;  one  of  their  favorite  roots.  Lower  down,  from 
l^rown's  hole  to  the  southward,  the  river  runs  throui^h  lofty  chasms,  walled 
in  by  precipices  of  red  rock  ;  and  even  anions;  the  wilder  tribes  who  inhabit 
that  portion  of  its  course  I  have  heard  it  called,  by  Indian  refujjees  from 
the  Californian  settlements,  the  Rio  Colorado. 

We  halted  tc  noon  at  the  upper  end  of  a  large  bottom,  near  some  old 
houses,  which  had  been  a  trading-post,  in  latitude  41  46'  54".  At  this 
])lace  the  elevation  of  the  river  above  the  sea  is  six  thousand  two  hundred 
and  thirtv  feet:  that  of  Lewis'  Pork  of  the  Columbia  at  Fort  1  lall  is,  ac- 
cording  to  our  subsequent  obser\ations,  four  thousand  five  hundred  fett. 
'rh(,'  descent  of  each  stream  is  rapid,  but  that  of  the  Colorado  is  but  littli 
known,  antl  thai  iitth'  derived  from  vague  report.  Three  hundred  miles 
of  its  lower  part,  as  it  approaches  the  Gull  of  California,  is  :  epor'.ed  to  be 
:/,iiooth  and  tranquil  ;  but  its  u|jper  part  is  manifestly  broken  into  many  falls 
and  rapids.  I'rom  many  tlescriptions  of  trappers,  it  is  probabU  that  in  its 
foaming  course  among  its  lofty  precipices  it  [jresents  man\'  scenes  of  wild 
grandeur  ;  and  though  olfering  many  temptations,  and  often  discussed,  no 
trappers  have  be(;n  found  bold  enough  to  undertake  a  voyage  which  has  so 
certain  a  prospt;ct  of  a  fatal  termination.  The  Indians  have  strange  stones 
of  beautiful  valleys  abounding  with  beaver,  shut  \\\i  among  inaccessible 
>  .il's  of  rock  in  the  lower  course  of  the  river;  and  to  which  th(!  nei((hbor- 
uig-  Indians,  in  their  occasional  wars  with  the  Spaniards,  and  among  them- 
selves, drive  their  herds  of  catth  and  flocks  of  sheep,  leaving  them  to  past 
ure  in  perfect  security. 

The  roatl  here  leaves  the  river,,  which  bends  considerably  to  the  east; 
and  in  the  afternoon  we  resumed  our  westerly  course,  passing  over  a  some- 
what high  and  broken  country  ;  and  about  sunset,  after  a  day's  travel  ol 
twenty-six  miles,  reached  Black's  I'ork  of  the  Green  River — a  shallow 
stream,  with  a  somewhat  sluggish  current,  about  ont;  hundred  and  t\vent\ 
feet  wide,  timbered  princi|jally  with  wilK>w,  and  here  and  there  an  ncea 
sional  large  tre  \ 

Vt  three  in  the  morning  1  otetainod  an  obwrvalion  of  an  emersion  ot 
W»e  Pirst  --ateltite  -it  J'upiter,  with  other  observation^  The  heavy  wai^ons 
have  sti  completely  puilverized  the  soil  th;U  clouds  of  fine  light  dust  ar( 
raised  by  the  --li^^htest  wind,  making  the  ixxad  sometimes  v<ry  disagreeable. 

AtLi^ust  \-jtt^  Leaving  c-^iiw  encamiprrtent  at  six  in  ihe  niorninq;.  we 
ttravelled  ajong;  the  botDom,  %liiich  is  about  two  miles  wide,  bordered  by 
low  hiSis.  in,  w&»3Jch  tV  strata  contained  Imndsome  and  very  distinct  \e,c[e 
ttible  fos.sik     In  a  gid'Jy  a  sJiort  distano.  farther  up  the  river,  antl  under 


if 


itoru'.s 

rhbor- 

them- 

0  past- 


■  cast ; 

some- 

avfl  ot 

shallow 

tWCIlt' 


•sion  0' 

1 

wai^on- 

1 

llSl    M' 

I 

■ecabl'' 

1 

w^.  ■\' 

1 

>r.Ml  b'. 

■ 

1^ 


U  '  t. 


t*: 


mH  f''  H.  y-w 

iliffi  '  i^  Ir    ''« 

I^S  '  >:   n«^    >  K 

i  K  ' '    H^   ^  V 

||ffi  ;'    K;^ 

^ ~  1 '  Wm 

■fiil'l 

^  it' 


I";    :^  ^ 


m 


TIP 


^:  fi 


\  -^' 


It  vcc;' 

iimlcr 


K"ii 


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!:  I 


lyiny  thes 

Crossing' 

wide,  witi 

l-'ork,  a  tr: 

and  a  kw 

and  in  th( 

makes  a  ti 

Passin 

liiyh,  witli 

sistin^  of 

iron-brown 

at  two  in  tl 

twenty-one 

Mountains, 

ered  j)rinci| 

Augusi 

of  the  eniio 

trail ;  and  h 

The  She 

of  her  relati 

fork  of  this 

fifteen  feet  \ 

I  obtain. 

-■t;  nces,  the 

One  of  o 

^ix  or  seven 

lorded  was 

I'ustonied  to 

to  no  other  n 

usually  callec 

"f  any  servic 

'ountry,  and 

An£iis/    ]( 

'  ^cnt  on  Car 
"lents  for  a  s 
'•'^"t  the  road 
"lountain,"  co 
'^1"  the  hills  n( 
formation,  fra,L 
in'd.o-eofthis 
3"'l  descended 
'*■'■  made  our  n 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— SHOSHONEK  WOMAN  LEA  VES. 


201 


Iviiv  these,  was  exposed  a  stratum  of  an  impure  or  argillaceous  limestone. 
Crossiiv  on  the  way  Black's  Fork,  where  it  is  one  loot  deep  and  forty 
wide,  with  clear  water  and  a  pebbly  bed,  in  nine  miles  we  reached  I  lam's 
Fork,  a  tributary  to  the  former  stream,  having  now  about  sixty  feet  breadth 
and  a  few  inches'  depth  of  water.  It  is  wooded  with  thickets  of  red  willow, 
and  in  the  bottom  is  a  tolerably  strong  growth  of  grass.  The  road  here 
makes  a  traverse  of  twelve  miles  across  a  bend  of  the  river. 

Passing  on  the  way  some  remarkable  hills,  two  or  three  hundred  feet 
hiuh,  with  frequent  and  nearly  vertical  escarpments  of  a  green  stone,  con- 
sistiii""  of  an  argillaceous  carbonate  of  lime,  alternating  with  strata  of  an 
iron-brown  limestone,  and  worked  into  picturesque  forms  by  wind  and  rain, 
at  two  in  the  afternoon  we  reached  the  river  again  ;  having  made  to-day 
uventy-onc  miles.  Since  crossing  the  great  dividing  ridge  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  plants  have  been  very  few  in  variety,  the  country  being  cov- 
ered principally  with  artemisia. 

AitoHsi  \Sl/i. — We  passed  on  the  road  this  morning  the  grave  of  one 
of  the  emigrants,  being  the  second  we  had  seen  since  falling  into  their 
trail ;  and  halted  to  noon  on  the  river  a  short  distance  above. 

The  Shoshonee  woman  took  leave  of  us  here,  expecting  to  find  some 
of  her  relations  at  Bridger's  Fort,  which  is  only  a  mile  or  two  distant,  on  a 
fork  of  this  stream.  In  the  evening  we  encamped  on  a  salt  creek,  about 
fifteen  feet  wide,  having  to-day  travelled  thirty-two  miles. 

I  obtained  an  emersion  of  the  first  satellite  under  favorable  circum- 
st;  nccs,  the  night  being  still  and  clear. 

One  of  our  mules  died  here,  and  in  this  portion  of  our  journey  we  lost 
Nix  or  seven  of  our  animals.  The  grass  which  the  country  had  lately  af- 
forded was  very  poor  and  insufficient  ;  and  animals  which  have  been  ac- 
I'ustonied  to  grain  become  soon  weak,  and  unable  to  labor,  when  reduced 
to  no  other  nourishment  than  grass.  The  American  horses  (as  those  are 
usually  called  which  are  brought  to  this  country  from  the  States)  are  not 
"I  any  serviceable  value  until  after  they  have  remained  a  winter  in  the 
lountry,  and  become  accustomed  to  live  entirely  on  grass. 

.lugitst  \(^th. — Desirous  to  avoid  every  delay  not  absolutely  necessary, 
1  sent  on  Carson  in  advance  to  Fort  Hall  this  morning,  to  make  arrange- 
ments for  a  small  supply  of  provisions.  A  few  miles  from  our  encamp- 
ment the  road  entered  a  high  ridge,  which  the  trappers  called  the  "  little 
mountain,"  connecting  the  Utah  with  the  Wind  River  chain  ;  and  in  one 
'il  the  hills  near  which  we  passed  I  remarked  strata  of  a  conglomerate 
lorniation,  fragments  of  which  were  scattered  over  the  surface.  We  crossed 
^ndq;e  of  this  conglomerate,  the  road  passing  near  a  grove  of  low  cedar, 
and  descended  upon  one  of  the  heads  of  Ham's  Fork,  called  Muddy,  where 
^\|'  made  our  midday  halt. 


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MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRiiMONT. 


In  the  river  hills  at  this  place  I  discovered  strata  of  fossiliferous  rock 
havinj^  an  oolitic  structure,  which,  in  connection  with  the  neighborinr 
strata,  authorizes  us  to  believe  that  here,  on  the  west  side  of  the  Rockv 
Mountains,  we  fuiil  repeated  tht;  modern  formations  of  Great  Hritain  aiv! 
Europe,  which  have  hitherto  been  wantini^  to  complete  the  system  of 
Nortii  Ami'rican  ^^('oloj^y. 

In  tin;  afU'inoon  we  continued  our  road,  and,  searching  anionjj  tht 
hills  a  few  miles  up  the  stream,  and  on  the  same  bank,  I  discovered  ainoii" 
altcnintini^r  beds  of  coal  and  clay  a  stratum  of  while  indurated  clay  contain- 
in^'-  very  clear  and  beautiful  impressions  of  vegetable  remains.  This  was 
the  most  interestini,'  fossil  locality  I  had  met  in  the  country,  and  I  dceplv 
renrretted  that  time  did  not  p<.'nnit  me  to  remain  a  day  or  two  in  the  vicin- 
ity ;  but  I  could  not  anticipate  the  delays  to  whicii  I  mii^dit  be  exposed  in 
the  cours(!  of  our  journ(!y  or,  rather,  I  knew  that  they  were  many  and 
inevitable;  and  after  remaining;;  lu-re  only  about  an  hour,  I  hurried  off, 
load(Hl  with  as  many  specimens  as  I  could  conveniently  carry. 

Coal  mailc  its  afrpearance  occasionally  in  the  hills  during  the  afternoon, 
and  was  dis])layed  in  rabbit-burrows  in  a  kind  of  gap,  through  which  wi 
passed  over  some  high  hills,  and  we  descended  to  make  our  encanij)nicnt 
on  the  same  stream,  where  we  found  but  very  poor  grass. 

In  the  (evening  a  fine  cow  with  her  calf  which  had  strayed  off  from 
some  emigrant  party,  wen;  found  several  miles  from  the  road  and  brought 
into  camp  ;  and  as  she  gave  an  abundance  of  milk,  we  enjoyed  to-nij,dit  an 
excellent  cup  of  coffee.  We  travelled  to-day  twenty-eight  miles,  and,  a- 
has  been  usual  since  crossing  the  Green  River,  the  road  has  been  very 
dusty  and  the  weather  smoky  and  oppressively  hot.  Artemisia  was  char- 
acteristic among  the  few  plants. 

Anoust  20^//. --We  continued  to  travel  up  the  creek  by  a  very  gradual 
ascent  and  a  very  excellent  grassy  road,  passing  on  the  way  several  small 
forks  of  the  stream.  The  hills  here  are  higher,  presenting  escarpments  nt 
parti-colored  and  apparently  clay  rocks — purple,  dark-red,  and  yellow- 
containing  strata  of  sandstone  and  lime^cone  with  shells,  with  a  bed  of 
cemented  pebbles,  the  whole  overlaid  by  beds  of  limestone.  The  alterna- 
tion of  red  and  yellow  gives  a  bright  appearance  to  the  hills,  one  of  whidi 
was  called  by  our  people  the  Rainbow  Hill ;  and  the  character  of  the  coun- 
try became  more  agreeable,  and  travelling  far  more  pleasant,  as  now  we 
found  tiniber  and  very  good  grass.  Gradually  ascending,  we  reached  thi; 
lower  level  of  a  bed  of  white  limestone,  lying  upon  a  white  clay,  on  ihf 
upper  line  of  which  the  whole  road  is  abundantly  supplied  with  beaiitilc 
coo!  springs,  gushing  out  a  foot  in  breadth  and  several  inches  deep,  di- 
rectly from  the  hill-side. 

At  noon  we  halted  at  the  last  main  fork  of  the  creek,  at  an  elevation  of 


SECOND  EXPEDrTrOX—VA I.LF.Y  OF  BEAR  RIVER.  203 

seven  thousand  two  hundred  feet,  and  in  latitude,  ]>y  observation,  41"  39' 


found  who  had  entirely  made  the  circuit  of  its  shores  ;  and  no  instrumental 
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SECOND  EXPEDITION— VALLEY  OF  BEAR  RIVER. 


203 


seven  thousand  two  hundred  feet,  and  in  latitude,  by  observation,  41°  39' 
ir" ;  and  in  the  afternoon  continued  on  the  same  excellent  road,  up  the 
left  or  northern  fork  of  the  stream,  toward  its  head,  in  a  pass  which  the 
barometer  placed  at  eight  thousand  two  hundred  and  thirty  feet  above 
the  sea.  This  is  a  connecting  ridge  between  the  Utah  or  Bear  River 
Mountains  and  the  Wind  River  chain  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  separat- 
in<i  the  waters  of  the  Gulf  of  California  on  the  east,  and  those  on  the 
west  belonging  more  directly  to  the  Pacific,  from  a  vast  interior  basin 
whose  rivers  are  collected  into  numerous  lakes  having  no  outlet  to  the 
ocean.  Prom  the  summit  of  this  pass,  the  highest  which  the  road  crosses 
between  the  Mississippi  and  the  western  ocean,  our  view  was  over  a 
very  mountainous  region,  whose  rugged  appearance  was  greatly  increased 
bv  the  smoky  weather,  through  which  the  broken  ridges  were  dark  and 
dimly  seen.  The  ascent  to  the  summit  of  the  gap  was  occasionally 
steeper  than  the  national  road  in  the  Alleghanies ;  and  the  descent,  by 
way  of  a  spur  on  the  western  side,  is  rather  precipitous,  but  the  pass 
may  still  be  called  a  good  one.  Some  thickets  of  willow  in  the  hollows 
below  deceived  us  into  the  expectation  of  finding  a  camp  at  our  usual 
hour  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain  ;  but  we  found  them  without  water,  and 
continued  down  a  ravine,  and  encamped  about  dark  at  a  place  where  the 
springs  again  began  to  make  their  appearance,  but  where  our  animals 
fared  badly ;  the  stock  of  the  emigrants  having  grazed  the  grass  as  com- 
pletely as  if  we  were  again  in  the  midst  of  the  buffalo. 

August  2\st. — An  hour's  travel  this  morning  brought  us  into  the  fertile 
and  picturesque  valley  of  Bear  River,  the  principal  tributary  to  the  Great 
Salt  Lake.  The  stream  is  here  two  hundred  feet  wide,  fringed  with  wil- 
lows and  occasional  groups  of  hawthorns.  We  were  now  entering  a 
region  which  for  us  possessed  a  strange  and  extraordinary  interest.  We 
were  upon  the  waters  of  the  famous  lake  which  forms  a  salient  point  among 
the  remarkable  geographical  features  of  the  country,  and  around  which  the 
vague  and  superstitious  accounts  of  the  trappers  had  thrown  a  delightful 
obscurity,  whi  •  e  anticipated  pleasure  in  dispelling,  but  which,  in  the 
meantime,  left  ri  crowded  field  for  the  exercise  of  our  imagination. 

In  our  occa.  ional  conversations  with  the  few  old  hunters  who  had  vis- 
ted  the  region,  it  had  been  a  subject  of  frequent  speculation  ;  and  the 
wonders  which  they  related  were  not  the  less  agreeable  because  they  were 
highly  exaggerated  and  impossible. 

Hitherto  this  lake  had  been  seen  only  by  trappers  who  were  wander- 
ing through  the  country  in  search  of  new  beaver  streams,  caring  very  little 
for  geography  ;  its  islands  had  never  been  visited  ;  and  none  were  to  be 
found  who  had  entirely  made  the  circuit  of  its  shores  ;  and  no  instrumental 
observations,  or  geographical  survey  of  any  description,  had  ever  been 


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MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


made  anywhere  in  the  neighboring  region.  It  was  generally  supposed  that 
it  had  no  visible  outlet ;  but  among  the  trappers,  including  those  in  my 
own  camp,  were  many  who  believed  that  somewhere  on  its  surface  was  a 
terrible  whirlpool,  through  which  its  waters  found  their  way  to  the  ocean 
by  some  subterranean  communication. 

All  these  things  had  made  a  frequent  subject  of  discussion  in  our  desul- 
tory conversations  around  the  fires  at  night ;  and  my  own  mind  had  be- 
come tolerably  well  filled  with  their  indefinite  pictures,  and  insensibly  col 
ored  with  their  romantic  descriptions,  which,  in  the  pleasure  of  excitement, 
I  was  well  disposed  to  believe,  and  half  expected  to  realize. 

Where  we  descended  into  this  beautiful  valley  it  is  three  to  four  miles 
in  breadth,  perfectly  level,  and  bounded  by  mountainous  ridges,  one  aboyt 
another,  rising  suddenly  from  the  plain. 

The  emigrant  road  passes  along  a  portion  of  the  river,  which  in  its  char 
acter  of  level  bottoms,  inclosed  between  abrupt  mountains,  presents  a  type 
of  the  streams  of  this  region. 

We  continued  our  road  down  the  river,  and  at  night  encamped  with  a 
family  of  emigrants-  two  men,  women,  and  several  children-  who  appeareii 
to  be  bringing  up  the  rear  of  the  great  caravan.  I  was  struck  with  the  fine 
appearance  of  their  cattle,  some  six  or  eight  yoke  of  oxen,  which  leall) 
looked  as  well  as  if  they  had  been  all  the  summer  at  work  on  some  good 
farm.  It  was  strange  to  see  one  small  family  travelling  alone  throuprh  such 
a  country,  so  remote  from  civilization.  Some  nine  years  since,  such  a 
security  might  have  been  a  fatal  one  ;  but  since  their  disastrous  defeats  in 
the  country  a  little  north,  the  Blackfeet  have  ceased  to  visit  these  waters. 
Indians,  however,  are  very  uncertain  in  their  localities ;  and  the  friendly 
feelings,  also,  of  those  now  inhabiting  it  may  be  changed. 

According  to  barometrical  observation  at  noon,  the  elevation  of  the  val- 
ley was  six  thousand  four  hundred  feet  above  the  sea  ;  and  our  encampment 
at  night  in  latitude  42^  03'  47",  and  longitude  111°  10'  53",  by  observation 
— the  day's  journey  having  been  twenty-six  miles.  This  encampment  was 
therefore  within  the  territorial  limit  of  the  United  States ;  our  travellinij, 
from  the  time  we  entered  the  valley  of  the  Green  River,  on  August  15th, 
having  been  to  the  south  of  the  forty-second  degree  of  north  latitude,  and 
consequently  on  Mexican  territory  ;  and  this  is  the  route  all  the  emigrants 
now  travel  to  Oregon. 

The  temperature  at  sunset  was  65" ;  and  at  evening  there  was  a  distant 
thunder-storm,  with  a  light  breeze  from  the  north. 

Antelope  and  elk  were  seen  during  the  day  on  the  opposite  prairie  ;  and 
tliere  were  ducks  and  geese  in  the  river. 

The  next  morning,  in  abi^at  three  miles  from  our  encampment,  we 
reached  Smith's  Fork,  a  stream  of  clear  water,  about  fifty  feet  in  breadth. 


SECOND  EXPEDITlON—SMinrS  EORK. 


205 


It  is  timbered  with  cotton-wood,  willow,  and  aspen,  and  makes  a  beautiful 
debouchement  through  a  pass  about  six  hundred  yards  wide,  between  re- 
markable mountain  hills,  rising  abruptly  on  either  side,  and  forming  gigantic 
columns  to  the  gate  by  which  it  enters  Bear  River  Valley.  The  bottoms, 
which  below  Smith's  Fork  had  been  two  miles  wide,  narrowed,  as  we  ad- 
vanced, to  a  gap  five  hundred  yards  wide  ;  and  during  the  greater  part  of 
the  clay  w<  had  a  winding  route,  the  river  making  very  sharp  and  sudden 
bends,  the  mountains  steep  and  rocky,  and  the  valley  occasionally  so  narrow 
as  only  to  leave  space  for  a  passage  through. 

We  made  our  halt  at  noon  in  a  fertile  bottom,  where  the  common  blue 
llax  was  growing  abundantly,  a  few  miles  below  the  mouth  of  Thomas' 
Fork,  one  of  the  larger  tributaries  of  the  river. 

Crossing,  in  the  afternoon,  the  point  of  a  narrow  spur,  we  descended 
into  a  beautiful  bottom,  formed  by  a  lateral  valley,  which  presented  a  pict- 
ure of  home  beauty  that  went  directly  to  our  hearts.  The  edge  of  the 
wood,  for  several  miles  along  the  river,  was  dotted  with  the  white  covers 
of  emigrant  wagons,  collected  in  groups  at  different  camps,  where  the 
smokes  were  rising  lazily  from  the  fires,  around  which  the  w'omen  were 
occupied  in  preparing  the  evening  meal,  and  the  children  playing  in  the 
jrrass  ;  and  herds  of  cattle,  grazing  about  in  the  bottom,  had  an  air  of  quiet 
security  and  civilized  comfort  that  made  a  rare  sight  for  the  traveller  in 
such  a  remote  wilderness. 

In  common  with  all  the  emigration,  they  had  been  reposing  for  several 
days  in  this  delightful  valley,  in  order  to  recruit  their  animals  on  its  luxuri- 
ant pasturage  after  their  long  journey,  and  prepare  them  for  the  hard  travel 
along  the  comparatively  sterile  banks  of  the  Upper  Columbia.  At  the  lower 
i!id  of  this  extensive  bottom  the  river  passes  through  an  open  caflon 
where  there  were  high  vertical  rocks  to  the  water's  edge,  and  the  road  here 
turns  up  a  broad  valley  to  the  right.  It  was  already  near  sunset ;  but, 
hoping  to  reach  the  river  again  before  night,  we  continued  our  march  along 
the  valley,  finding  the  road  tolerably  good,  until  we  arrived  at  a  point  where 
it  crosses  the  ridge  by  an  ascent  of  a  mile  in  length,  which  was  so  very 
steep  and  difficult  for  the  gun  and  carriage  that  we  did  not  reach  the  sum- 
mit until  dark. 

It  was  absolutely  necessary  to  descend  into  the  valley  for  water  and 
grass,  and  we  were  obliged  to  grope  our  way  in  the  darkness  down  a  very 
"Steep,  bad  mountain,  reaching  the  river  at  about  ten  o'clock.  It  was  late 
before  our  animals  were  gathered  into  camp,  several  of  those  which  were 
very  weak  being  necessarily  left  to  pass  the  night  on  the  ridge  ;  and  we 
sat  down  again  to  a  midnight  supper.  The  road,  in  the  morning,  presented 
an  animated  appearance.  We  found  that  we  had  encamped  near  a  large 
party  of  emigrants,  and  a  few  miles  below  another  body  was  already  in 


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MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRi:.\fONT. 


motion.  Here  the  valley  had  resumed  its  usual  breadth,  and  the  river 
swept  off  along  the  mountains  on  the  western  side,  the  road  continuing 
directly  on. 

In  about  an  hour's  travel  we  met  several  Shoshonce  Indians,  who  in- 
formed us  that  they  belonged  to  a  large  village  which  had  just  come  into 
the  valley  from  the  mountains  to  the  westward,  where  they  had  been  hunt- 
ing antelope,  and  gathering  service-berries.  Glad  at  the  opportunity  of 
seeing  one  of  their  villages,  and  in  the  hope  of  purchasing  from  them  a 
few  horses,  I  turned  immediately  off  into  the  plain  toward  their  encamp- 
ment, which  was  situated  on  a  small  stream  near  the  river. 

We  had  approached  within  something  more  than  a  mile  of  the  villa^'e, 
when  suddenly  a  single  horseman  emerged  from  it  at  full  speed,  followed 
by  anothi;r,  and  another,  in  rapid  succession  ;  and  then  party  after  party 
poured  into  the  plain,  until,  when  the  foremost  rider  reached  us,  all  the 
whole  intervening  plain  was  occupied  by  a  mass  of  horsemen,  which  came 
charging  down  upon  us  with  guns  and  naked  swords,  lances,  and  bows  and 
arrows —Indians  entirely  naked,  and  warriors  fully  dressed  for  war,  with 
the  long  red  streamers  of  their  war  bonnets  reaching  nearly  to  the  ground 
— all  mingled  together  in  the  bravery  of  savage  warfare.  They  had  been 
thrown  into  a  sudden  tumult  by  the  appearance  of  our  flag,  which,  amonj; 
these  peuyie,  is  regarded  as  an  emblem  of  hostility  ;  it  being  usually  borne 
by  the  Sioux,  and  the  neighboring  mountain  Indians,  when  they  come  here 
to  war  ;  and  we  had  accordingly  been  mistaken  for  a  body  of  their  ene- 
mies. A  few  words  from  the  chief  quieted  the  excitement ;  and  the  whole 
band,  increasing  every  moment  in  number,  escorted  us  to  their  encampment, 
where  the  chief  pointed  out  a  place  for  us  to  encamp  near  his  own  lodge, 
and  made  known  our  purpose  in  visiting  the  village. 

In  a  very  short  time  we  purchased  eight  horses,  for  which  we  gave  in 
exchange  blankets,  red  and  blue  cloth,  beads,  knives,  and  tobacco,  and  the 
usual  other  articles  of  Indian  traffic.  We  obtained  from  them  also  aeon 
siderable  quantity  of  berries  of  different  kinds,  among  which  service-berries 
were  the  most  abundant ;  and  several  kinds  of  roots  and  seeds,  wliich  we 
could  eat  with  pleasure,  as  any  kind  of  vegetable  food  was  gratifying  to  us. 

I  ate  here,  for  the  first  time,  the  kooyah,  or  tobacco  root  ( ValeruiM 
cdulis),  the  principal  edible  root  among  the  Indians  who  inhabit  the  upper 
Avatcrs  of  the  streams  on  the  western  side  of  the  mountains.  It  has  a  very 
strong  and  remarkably  peculiar  taste  and  odor,  which  I  can  compare  to 
no  other  vegetable  that  I  ana  acquainted  with,  and  which  to  some  persons 
is  extremely  offensive.  It  was  characterized  by  Mr.  Preuss  as  the  most 
horrid  food  he  had  (!ver  put  in  his  mouth  ;  and  when,  in  the  evening,  one 
of  the  chiefs  sent  his  wife  to  me  with  a  portion  which  she  had  prepared  as 
a  delicacy  to  regale  us,  the  odor  immediately  drove  him  out  of  the  lodge; 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— PREUSS  OBJECTS  TO  KOOYAH.  207 

and  frequently  afterward  he  used  to  beg  that  when  those  who  liked  it  had 
taken  what  they  desired,  it  might  be  sent  away.  To  others,  however,  the 
taste  is  rather  an  agreeable  one,  and  I  was  afterward  always  glad  when  it 
formed  an  addition  to  our  scanty  meals.  It  is  full  of  nutriment ;  and  in  its 
unprepared  state  is  said  by  the  Indians  to  have  very  strong  poisonous 
(lualities,  of  which  it  is  deprived  by  a  peculiar  process,  being  baked  in  the 
^rroLind  for  about  two  days. 

The  morning  of  the  24th  was  disagreeably  cool,  with  an  easterly  wind 
;uh1  very  sinoky  weather.  We  made  a  late  start  from  the  village,  and  re- 
gaining the  road  (on  which,  during  all  the  day,  were  scattered  the  emi- 
tjrant  wagons),  we  continued  on  down  the  valley  of  the  river,  bordered  by 
hiiTJi  and  mountainous  hills,  on  which  fires  are  seen  at  the  summit. 

The  soil  appears  generally  good,  although,  with  the  grasses,  many  of 
ihe  plants  are  dried  up,  probably  on  account  of  the  great  heat  and  want  of 
;ain.  The  common  blue  flax  of  cultivation,  now  almost  entirely  in  seed — 
only  a  scattered  flower  here  and  there  remaining — is  the  most  characteris- 
tic plant  of  the  Bear  River  Valley.  When  we  encamped  at  night  on  the 
li^ht  bank  of  the  river,  it  was  growing  as  in  a  sown  field.  We  had  trav- 
i;lled  during  the  day  twenty-two  miles,  encamping  in  latitude  (by  observa- 
tion) 42   36'  56",  chronometric  longitude  iii"  42'  05". 

In  our  neighborhood,  the  mountains  appeared  extremely  rugged,  giv- 
ing still  greater  value  to  this  beautiful  natural  pass, 

August  i^th. — This  was  a  cloudless  but  smoky  autumn  morning,  with 
,1  cold  wind  from  the  southeast,  and  a  temperature  of  forty- five  degrees  at 
iinrise.  In  a  few  miles  I  noticed,  where  a  little  stream  crossed  the  road, 
fragments  of  scoriatcd  basalt  scattered  about — the  first  volcanic  rock  we 
had  seen,  and  which  now  became  a  characteristic  rock  along  our  future 
road.  In  about  six  miles'  travel  from  our  encampment,  we  reached  one  of 
the  points  in  our  journey  to  which  we  had  always  looked  forward  with 
L^reat  interest — the  famous  Beer  Springs.  It  is  a  basin  of  mineral  waters 
inclosed  by  the  mountains,  which  sweep  around  a  circular  bend  of  Bear 
River  here,  at  its  most  northern  point,  and  which  from  a  northern,  in  the 
course  of  a  few  miles  acquires  a  southern  direction  toward  the  Great  Salt 

l.AKK. 

A  pretty  little  stream  of  clear  water  enters  the  upper  part  of  the  basin 
trom  an  open  valley  in  the  mountains,  and,  passing  through  the  bottom, 
discharges  into  Bear  River.  Crossing  this  stream,  we  descended  a  mile 
below,  and  made  our  encampment  in  a  grove  of  cedar  immediately  at  the 
Rccr  Springs,  which,  on  account  of  the  effervescing  gas  and  acid  taste, 
have  received  their  name  from  the  voyageurs  and  trappers  of  the  country, 
who,  in  the  midst  of  their  rude  and  hard  lives,  are  fond  of  finding  some 
landed  resemblance  to  the  luxuries  they  rarely  have  the  fortune  to  enjoy. 


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208  AfEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRliMONT. 

Although  somewhat  disappointed  in  the  expectations  which  various  df. 
scriptions  had  led  me  to  form  of  unusual  beauty  of  situation  and  scenerv 
I  found  it  altogether  a  place  of  very  great  interest ;  and  a  traveller  for  the 
first  time  in  a  volcanic  region  remains  in  a  constant  excitement,  and  nt 
every  step  is  arrested  by  something  remarkable  and  new.  There  is  a  con- 
fusion of  interesting  objects  gathered  together  in  a  small  space.  Around 
the  place  of  'encampment  the  Beer  Springs  were  numerous  ;  but,  as  far  ;m 
we  could  ascertain,  were  entirely  confined  to  that  locality  in  the  bottom. 
In  the  bed  of  the  river,  in  front,  for  a  space  of  several  hundred  yards,  they 
were  very  abundant,  the  effervescing  gas  rising  up  and  agitating  the  water 
in  countless  bubbling  columns.  In  the  vicinity  round  about  were  numer 
ous  springs  of  an  entirely  different  and  equally  marked  mineral  character. 

In  a  rather  picturesque  snot,  about  thirteen  hundred  yards  below  our 
encampment,  and  immediately  on  the  river  bank,  is  the  most  remarkable 
spring  of  the  place.  In  an  opening  on  the  rock,  a  white  column  of  scat- 
tered water  is  thrown  up,  in  form  like  a  jet  d'eaii,  to  a  variable  height  of 
about  three  feet,  and,  though  it  is  maintained  in  a  constant  supply,  its 
greatest  height  is  attained  only  at  regular  intervals,  according  to  the  action 
of  the  force  below.  It  is  accompanied  by  a  subterranean  noise,  which. 
together  with  the  motion  of  the  water,  makes  very  much  the  impression  ot 
a  steamboat  in  motion  ;  and,  without  knowing  that  it  had  been  ahcady 
previously  so  called,  we  gave  to  it  the  name  of  the  Steamboat  Spring. 
The  rock  through  which  it  is  forced  is  slightly  raised  in  a  convex  manner, 
and  gathered  at  the  opening  into  an  urn-mouthed  form,  and  is  evidently 
formed  by  continued  deposition  from  the  water,  and  colored  bright  red  by 
oxide  of  iron. 

An  analysis  of  this  deposited  rock,  which  I  subjoin,  will  give  you  some 
idea  of  the  properties  of  the  water,  which,  with  the  exception  of  the  Beer 
Springs,  is  the  mineral  water  of  the  place.*  It  is  a  hot  spring,  and  the 
water  has  a  pungent  and  disagreeable  metallic  taste,  leaving  a  burning  ef- 
fect on  the  tongue.  Within  perhaps  two  yards  of  the  jet  (fcati  is  a  small 
hole  of  about  an  inch  in  diameter,  through  which,  at  regular  intervals, 
escapes  a  blast  of  hot  air  with  a  light  wreath  of  smoke,  accompanied  by  a 
regular  noise.  This  hole  had  been  noticed  by  Dr.  Wislizenus,  a  gentle- 
man who  several  years  since  passed  by  this  place,  and  who  remarked, 

*  ANALYSIS. 

Carbonate  of  lime  92' 55 

Carbonate  of  magnesia 0.42 

Oxide  of  iron 105 

Silica  J 

Alumina  >• 5-9^ 

Water  and  loss  J  ~ 

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SECOND  EXPEDITION— A  PrCTURF.SQUE  SPOT.  ao^ 

with  very  nice  observation,  that  smelling  the  gas  which  issued  from  the 
orifice  produced  a  sensation  of  giddineiss  and  nausea. 

Mr.  Preuss  and  myself  repeated  the  observation  and  were  so  well  sat- 
istiefi  with  its  correctness,  that  we  did  not  find  it  pleasant  to  continue  the 
experiment,  as  the  sensation  of  giddiness  which  it  produced  was  certainly 
strong  and  decided.  A  huge  emigrant  wagon,  with  a  large  and  diversified 
family,  had  overtaken  us  and  halted  to  noon  at  our  encampment ;  and, 
while  we  were  sitting  at  the  spring,  a  band  of  boys  and  girls,  with  two  or 
three  young  men  came  up,  one  of  whom  I  asked  to  stoop  down  and  smell 
the  gas,  desirous  to  satisfy  myse. ""  further  of  its  effects.  But  his  natural 
caution  had  been  awakened  by  the  singular  and  suspicious  features  of  the 
place,  and  he  declined  my  proposal  decidedly,  adding  a  few  indistinct 
remarks  about  the  devil,  whom  he  seemed  to  consider  the  genius  loci. 
The  ceaseless  motion  and  the  play  of  the  fountain,  the  red  rock,  and  the 
ijreen  trees  near,  make  this  a  picturesque  spot. 

A  short  distance  above  the  spring,  and  near  the  foot  of  the  same  spur, 
is  a  very  remarkable  yellow-colored  rock,  soft  and  friable,  consisting  prin- 
cipally of  carbonate  of  lime  and  oxide  of  iron,  of  regular  structure,  which  is 
probably  a  fossil  coral.  The  rocky  bank  along  the  shore  between  the  Steam- 
boat Spring  and  our  encampment,  along  which  is  dispersed  the  water  from 
the  hills,  is  composed  entirely  of  strata  of  a  calcareous  tufa,  with  the  remains 
of  moss  and  reed-like  grasses,  which  is  probably  the  formation  of  springs. 

The  Beer  or  Soda  Springs,  which  have  given  name  to  this  locality,  are 
agreeabl ;,  but  less  highly  flavored  than  the  Boiling  Springs  at  the  foot  of 
Pike's  Peak,  which  are  of  the  same  character.  They  are  very  numerous, 
and  half  hidden  by  tufts  of  grass,  which  we  aniused  ourselves  in  removing 
and  searching  about  for  more  highly  impregnated  springs.  They  are  some 
of  them  deep  and  (.-/f  various  sizes — sometimes  several  yards  in  diameter, 
and  kept  in  constant  motion  by  columns  of  escaping  gas.  By  analysis,  one 
quart  of  the  water  contains  as  follows  : 

Onins. 

Sulphate  of  magnesia 12.  lo 

Sulphate  of  lime 2.12 

Carbonate  of  lime 3.86 

Carbonate  of  magnesia 3.22 

Chloride  of  calcium 1.33 

Chloride  of  magnesium 1.13 

Chloride  of  sodium 2.24 

Vegetable  extractive  matter,  etc 0.85 

26.84 

The  carbonic  acid,  originally  contained  in  the  water,  had  mainly  es- 
caped before  it  was  subjected  to  analysis  ;  and  it  was  not  therefore  taken 
into  consideration. 


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2IO  MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIJ'I'.—JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 

In  the  afternoon  I  wanJered  about  among- tlie  cedars,  which  occupy  the 
greater  part  of  the  bottom  toward  the  inountains.  The  soil  here  has  a  dry 
and  calcined  appearance ;  in  some  places,  the  open  grounds  are  covered 
with  saline  efflorescences,  and  there  are  a  number  of  regularly  shaped  and 
very  remarkable  hills,  which  are  formed  of  a  succession  of  convex  strata 
that  have  been  deposited  by  the  waters  of  extinct  springs,  the  orifices  of 
which  are  found  on  their  summits,  some  of  them  having  the  form  of  funnel- 
shaped  cones. 

Others  of  these  remarkably  shaped  hills  are  of  a  red-colored  earth,  en- 
tirely bare,  and  composed  principally  of  carbonate  of  lime,  with  oxide  ol 
iron,  formed  in  the  same  manner.  Walking  near  one  of  them,  on  the  sum- 
mit of  which  the  springs  were  dry,  my  attention  was  attracted  by  an  un- 
derground noise,  around  which  I  circled  repeatedly,  until  I  found  the  spot 
from  beneath  which  it  came  ;  and,  removing  the  red  earth,  discovered  a 
hidden  spring,  which  was  boiling  up  from  below,  with  the  same  disagree- 
able metallic  taste  as  the  Steamboat  Spring. 

Continuing  up  the  bottom,  and  crossing  the  little  stream  which  has 
been  already  mentioned,  I  visited  several  remarkable  red  and  white  hills, 
which  had  attracted  my  attention  from  the  road  in  the  morning.  These 
are  immediately  upon  the  stream,  and,  like  those  already  mentioned,  are 
formed  bv  the  deposition  of  successive  strata  from  the  springs.  On  their 
summits,  the  orifices  th.rough  which  the  waters  had  been  discharged  were 
so  large  that  they  resembljd  miniature  craters,  being  some  of  them  several 
feet  in  diameter,  circular,  and  regularly  formed  as  if  by  art.  At  a  former 
lime,  when  these  dried-up  fountains  were  all  in  motion,  they  must  have 
made  a  beautiful  display  on  a  grand  scale  ;  and  nearly  all  this  basin  ap- 
pears to  me  to  have  b(;en  formed  under  their  action,  and  should  be  called 
\.\\ft  place  of  fountains. 

At  the  fo(5t  of  one  of  these  hills,  or  rather  on  its  side  near  the  base, 
are  several  of  these  small  limestone  columns,  about  one  foot  in  diameter  at 
the  base,  and  tapering  upward  to  a  height  of  three  or  four  feet;  and  on 
the  summit  the  water  is  boiling  up  and  bubbling  over,  constantly  adding 
to  the  height  of  the  little  obelisks.  In  some,  the  water  only  boils  up,  no 
longer  overflowing,  and  has  here  the  same  taste  as  the  Steamboat  Sprinij. 
Idle  observer  will  remark  a  gradual  subsidence  in  the  water  which  for- 
merly sujiplied  the  fountains,  as  on  all  the  summits  of  the  hills  the  sprin<:;s 
are  now  dry,  and  are  found  only  low  down  upon  their  sides  or  on  the  sur- 
rounding plain, 

A  little  higher  up  the  creek,  its  banks  arc  formed  by  strata  of  a  very 
heavy  and  hard  scoriaceous  basalt,  having  a  bright  metallic  lustre  when 
broken.  The  i.ountains  overlooking  the  plain  are  of  an  entirely  different 
geological  character.     Continuing  on,  I   walked  to  the  summit  of  one  ol 


SRf^OND  EXPEDITION— METALLIC  TASTING-SPRINGS. 


211 


them,  where  the  principal  rock  was  a  granular  quartz.  Descending  the 
mountains,  and  returning  toward  the  camp  along  the  base  of  the  ridge 
which  skirts  the  plain,  I  found  at  the  foot  of  a  mountain  spur,  and  issuing 
from  a  compact  rock  of  a  dark-blue  color,  a  great  number  of  springs  hav- 
ing the  same  pungent  and  disagreeably  metallic  taste  already  mentioned, 
the  water  of  which  was  collected  into  a  very  remarkable  basin,  whose  sin- 
irularitv,  perhaps,  made  it  appear  to  me  very  beautiful.  It  is  large — pcr- 
liaps  fifty  yards  in  circumference ;  and  in  it  the  water  is  contained  at  an  el- 
evation of  several  feet  above  the  surrounding  ground  by  a  wall  of  calcare- 
ous tufa,  composed  principally  of  the  remains  of  mosses,  three  or  four,  and 
sometimes  ten  feet  h'gh.  The  water  within  is  very  clear  and  pure,  and 
three  or  four  feet  deep,  where  it  could  be  conveniently  measured  near  the 
wall ;  and,  at  a  consid'.rably  lower  level,  is  another  pond  or  basin  of  very 
clear  water,  and  apparently  of  considerable  depth,  from  the  bottom  of  which 
the  gas  was  escajjing  in  bubbling  columns  at  many  places.  This  water 
was  collected  into  a  small  stream  which,  in  a  few  hundred  yards,  sank  un- 
der ground,  reap[iearing  among  the  rocks  between  the  two  great  springs 
near  the  river,  wliich  it  entered  by  a  little  fall. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  I  set  out  on  my  return  to  the  camp,  and,  crossing 
in  the  way  a  large  field  of  a  salt  that  was  several  inches  deep,  found  on 
my  arrival  that  our  emigrant  friends,  who  had  been  encamped  in  company 
with  us,  had  resumed  their  journey,  and  the  road  had  again  assumed  its 
solitary  character. 

The  temperature  of  the  largest  of  the  Beer  Springs  at  our  encampment 
was  65"  at  sunset,  that  of  the  air  being  62.5".  Our  barometric  observa- 
tion gave  five  thousand  eight  hundred  and  forty  feet  for  the  elevation  above 
the  Gulf,  being  about  five  hundred  feet  lower  than  the  Boiling  Springs, 
which  are  of  a  similar  nature,  at  the  foot  of  Pike's  Peak.  The  astronomi- 
cal observations  gave  for  our  latitude  42°  39'  57",  and  1 11°  46'  00"  for  the 
longitude.  The  night  was  very  still  and  cloudless,  and  I  sat  up  for  an  ob- 
stirvation  of  the  first  satellite  of  Jupiter,  the  emersion  of  which  took  place 
about  midnight ;  but  fell  asleep  at  the  telescope,  awaking  just  a  few  min- 
utes after  the  appearance  of  the  star. 

The  morning  of  the  26th  was  calm,  and  the  sky  without  clouds,  but 
smoky;  and  the  temperature  at  sunrise  28.5".  At  the  same  time,  the  tem- 
perature of  the  large  Hecr  Spring,  where  we  encamped,  was  56";  that  of 
the  Steamboat  Spring  87'';  and  that  of  the  steam-hole  near  it,  81.5".  In 
the  course  of  the  morning  the  last  wagons  of  the  emigration  passed  by, 
and  we  were  again  left  in  our  place  in  the  rear. 

Remaining  in  camp  until  ne.irly  eleven  o'clock,  we  travelled  a  short  dis- 
tance down  the  river,  and  halted  to  noon  on  the  bank  at  a  point  where 
tlie  road  quits  the  vallev  of  IJear  River,  and,  crossing  a  ridge  which  divides 


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MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE -JOHJV  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


the  Great  Basin  from  the  Pacific  waters,  reaches  Fort  Hall  by  way  of  the 
Portneuf  River  in  a  distance  of  probably  fifty  miles,  or  two  and  a  half 
days'  journey  for  wagons. 

An  examination  of  the  great  lake  which  is  the  outlet  of  this  river,  and 
the  principal  feature  of  geographical  interest  in  the  basin,  was  one  of  the 
main  objects  contemplated  in  the  general  plan  of  our  survey  ;  and  I  ac- 
cordingly determined  at  this  place  to  leave  the  road,  and,  after  havinrr 
completed  areconnoissance  of  the  lake,  regain  it  subsequently  at  Fort  Hall. 
But  our  little  stock  of  provisions  had  again  become  extremely  low ;  w 
had  only  dried-meat  sufficient  for  one  meal,  and  our  supply  of  flour  and 
other  comforts  was  entirely  exhausted.  I  therefore  immediately  despatcht-d 
one  of  the  party,  Henry  Lee,  with  a  note  to  Carson,  at  Fort  Hall,  direct- 
ing him  to  load  a  pack-horse  with  whatever  could  be  obtained  there  in  the 
way  of  provisions,  and  endeavor  to  overtake  me  on  the  river. 

In  the  meantime,  we  had  picked  up  along  the  road  two  tolerably  weii- 
grown  calves,  which  would  have  become  food  for  wolves,  and  which  had 
probably  been  left  by  some  of  the  earlier  emigrants,  none  of  those  we  had 
met  having  made  any  claim  to  them  ;  and  on  these  I  mainly  relied  for  sup- 
port during  our  circuit  to  the  lake. 

In  sweeping  around  the  point  of  the  mountain  which  runs  down  into 
the  bend,  the  river  here  passes  between  per[iendicular  walls  of  basalt, 
which  always  fix  the  attention,  from  the  regular  form  in  which  it  occurs 
and  its  perfect  distinctness  from  the  surrounding  rocks  among  which  it  has 
been  placed.  The  mountain,  which  is  rugged  and  steep,  and,  by  our 
measurement,  one  thousand  four  hundred  feet  above  the  river  directly  op- 
posite the  place  of  our  halt,  is  called  the  Sheep  /?(;r/C'— probably  because  a 
flock  of  the  common  mountain  sheep  (Ovis  moniaiiii)  had  been  seen  on  the 
craggy  point. 

As  we  were  about  resuming  our  march  in  the  afternoon  I  was  attracted 
by  the  singular  appearance  of  an  isolated  hill  with  a  concave  summit,  in 
the  plain,  about  two  miles  from  the  river,  and  turnetl  off  toward  it  while 
the  camp  proceeded  on  its  way  to  the  southward  in  search  of  the  lake.  I 
found  the  thin  and  stony  soil  of  the  plain  entirely  underlaid  by  the  basalt 
which  forms  the  river  walls ;  and  when  I  reached  the  neighborhood  of  the 
hill,  the  surface  of  the  plain  was  rent  into  freriucnt  fissures  and  chasms  ot 
the  same  scoriated  volcanic  rock,  from  forty  to  sixty  feet  deep,  but  whic'i 
there  was  not  sufficient  light  to  penetrate  entirely,  and  which  I  had  no! 
time  to  descend.  Arrived  at  the  simimit  of  the  hill,  I  found  that  it  ter- 
minated in  a  very  perfect  crater,  of  an  oval  or  nearly  circular  form,  thnc 
hundred  and  sixty  paces  in  circumference,  and  sixty  feet  at  the  greatest 
depth.  The  walls,  which  were  perfectly  vertical  and  disposed  like  masonry 
'\n  a  very  regular  manner,  were  composed  of  a  brown-colored  scoriaceous 


■\'  I  ill: 


our 
yop- 


tracted 
unit,  in 
while 
:e.  I 
basalt 
of  the 
sms  cl 
whir'i 
ad  no! 
it  tcr- 
,  three 
reate>t 
asonry 
aceous 


UTAH    BOY. 


I 


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1 


f  in-    ■.  ; 


m 


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i  '  i 

'     "l        ■ 

■j:| 

;    ,i          |- 

■1 

<                     ■             '■■'.' 

1  ^;?L 

!|i 

SECOND  EXPEDITION— VOLCANIC  ROCKS. 


ii: 


lava  evidently  the  production  of  a  modern  volcano,  and  having  all  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  lighter  scoriaceous  lavas  of  Mount  ^tna,  Vesuvius,  and 
other  volcanoes.  The  faces  of  the  walls  were  reddened  and  glazed  by  the 
tire,  in  wliich  they  had  been  melted,  and  which  had  left  them  contorted 
and  twisted  by  its  violent  action. 

Our  route  during  the  afternoon  was  a  little  rough,  being  (in  the  direc- 
tion we  had  taken)  over  a  volcanic  plain,  where  our  progress  was  some- 
times obstructed  by  fissures,  and  black  beds,  composed  of  fragments  of  the 
rock.  On  both  sides  the  mountains  appeared  very  broken,  but  tolerably 
well  timbered. 

Ai^gust  26th. — Crossing  a  point  of  ridge  which  makes  in  to  the  river, 
u  f  fell  upon  it  again  before  sunset,  and  encamped  on  the  right  bank,  oppo- 
site to  the  encampment  of  three  lodges  of  Snake    Indians.     They  visited 
us  during  the  evening,  and  we  obtained  from  them  a  small  quantity  of 
roots  of  different  kinds  in  exchange  for  goods.    Among  them  was  a  sweet 
root  of  very  pleasant   flavor,  having    somewhat    the    taste   of  preserved 
quince.    My  endeavors  to  become  acquainted  with  the  plants  which  furnish 
to  the  Indians  a  [tortion  of  their  support  were  only  gradually  successful, 
and  after  long  and  persevering  attention  ;  and  even  after  obtaining,  I  did 
not  succeed  in  preserving  them  until  they  could  be  satisfactorily  determined. 
In  this  portion  of  the  journey  I  found  this  particular  root  cut  up  into 
such  small  pieces  that  it  was  only  to  be  identified  by  its  taste,  when  the 
bulb  was  met  with  in  perfect  form  among  the  Indians  lower  down  on  the 
Columbia,  among  whom  it  is  the  highly  celebrated  kamas.     It  was  long 
afterwards,  on  our  return  through  Upper  California,  that  I  found  the  plant 
itself  in  bloom,  which  I   supposed  to  furnish  the  kamas  root  (^Camassia 
(iculcnta).     The  root-diet  had  a  rather  mournful  effect  at  the  commence- 
ment, and  one  of  the  calves  was  killed  this  evening  for  food.     The  animals 
fared  well  on  rushes. 

August  2'jt/i. — ^The  morning  was  cloudy,  with  appearance  of  rain,  and 
the  thermometer  at  sunrise  at  29".  Making  an  unusually  early  start,  we 
crossed  the  river  at  a  good  ford  ;  and,  following  for  about  three  hours  a 
trail  which  led  along  the  bottom,  we  entered  a  labyrinth  of  hills  below  the 
main  ridge  and  halt(!(l  to  noon  in  the  ravine  of  a  pretty  little  stream,  tim- 
bered with  cotton-wood  of  large  size,  ash-leaved  maple,  with  cherry  and 
other  shrubby  trees.  The  hazy  weather,  which  had  prevented  any  very 
extended  views  since  entering  the  Green  River  V^alley,  began  now  to  dis- 
appear. There  was  a  slight  rain  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  day,  and  at 
noon,  when  the  thermometer  had  risen  to  79.5",  we  had  a  bright  sun,  with 
blue  sky  and  scattered  cumuli.  According  to  the  barometer  our  halt 
lure  among  the  hills  was  at  an  elevation  of  five  thousand  three  hundred 
iind  twenty  feet. 


i:iPl 


1'l  ' 


ill"!'-  ;;i-! 


jA-Vi 


i     iii 


I  ill 


1   1.       i 

i'  I 
a:  i 


!|  \ 


Mil.' 


I>l^ 


Vi' 


!      •    M.   ! 


I     i:  = 


■I    i 


:''!•     I;: 


■r^i^Li 


314 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  UFE—JOHN'  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


Crossing  a  dividing  ridge  in  the  afternoon,  we  followed  down  another 
little  Bear  River  tributary  to  the  poin*  where  it  emerged  on  an  open  green 
flat  among  the  hills,  timbered  with  groves  and  bordered  with  cane  thickets 
but  without  water.  A  pretty  little  rivulet,  coming  out  of  the  hill-side  and  over- 
hung by  tall  flowering  plants  of  a  species  I  had  not  hitherto  seen,  furnished 
us  with  a  good  camping-place.  The  evening  was  cloudy,  the  temperature 
at  sunset  69°,  and  the  elevation  five  thousand  one  hundred  and  forty  feet. 

Among  the  plants  occurring  along  the  line  of  road  during  the  day,  epi- 
nettes dcs  prairies  (^Grindelia  squarrosa^wTi's,  in  considerable  abundance, 
and  is  among  the  very  few  plants  remaining  in  bloom — the  whole  country 
having  now  an  autumnal  appearance,  in  the  crisped  and  yellow  plants  and 
dried-up  grasses.  Many  cranes  were  seen  during  the  day,  with  a  few 
antelope,  very  shy  and  wild. 

Atigiist  28///. — During  the  night  we  had  a  thunder-storm,  with  moder- 
ate rain,  which  has  made  the  air  this  morning  very  clear,  the  thermometer 
being  at  55°.  Leaving  our  encampment  at  the  Cane  Spring  and  quitting 
the  trail  on  which  we  had  been  travelling,  and  whic'  would  probably 
have  afforded  us  a  good  road  to  the  lake,  we  crossed  some  very  dee]) 
ravines,  and  in  about  an  hour's  travelling  again  reached  the  river.  We 
were  now  in  a  valley  five  or  six  miles  wide,  between  mountain  ranges 
which,  about  thirty  miles  below,  appeared  to  close  up  and  terminate  the 
valley,  leaving  for  the  river  only  a  very  narrow  pass,  or  cafion,  behind 
which  we  imagined  that  we  should  find  the  broad  waters  of  the  lake. 

We  made  the  usual  halt  at  the  mouth  of  a  small  clear  stream,  having  a 
slightly  mineral  taste  (perhaps  of  salt),  four  thousand  seven  hundred  and 
sixty  feet  above  the  gulf.  In  the  afternoon  we  climbed  a  very  steep  sandy 
hill  ;  and  after  a  slow  and  winding  day's  march  of  twenty-seven  miles  en- 
camped at  a  slough  on  the  river.  There  were  great  quantities  of  geese 
and  ducks,  of  which  only  a  few  were  shot,  the  Indians  having  probably 
made  them  very  wild.  The  men  employed  themselves  in  fishing,  but 
caught  nothing.  A  skunk  (Mtpliiiis  Americana)  which  was  killed  in  the 
afternoon  made  a  supper  for  one  of  the  messes.  The  river  is  bordered 
occasionally  with  fields  of  cane,  which  we  regarded  as  an  indication  of  our 
approach  to  a  lake  country.  We  had  frequent  showers  of  rain  during  tlv; 
night,  with  thunder. 

August  2gth. — The  thermometer  at  sunrise  was  54",  with  air  from 
the  northwest,  and  dark  rainy  clouds  moving  on  the  horizon  ;  rain-squalls 
and  bright  sunshine  by  intervals.  I  rode  ahead  with  Hasil  to  explore 
the  country,  and,  continuing  about  three  miles  along  the  river,  turned 
directly  off  on  a  trail  running  toward  three  marked  gaps  in  the  bor- 
dering range,  wliere  the  mountains  appeared  cut  through  to  their  bases, 
toward  which  the  river  plain  rose  gradually. 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— ROOT-DrGGKRS'  COUNTR  V. 


!'5 


Puttin""  our  horses  Into  a  gallop  on  some  fresh  tracks  which  showed 
very  plainly  in  the  wet  path,  we  came  suddenly  upon  a  small  party  of 
Shoshonee  Indians  who  had  fallen  into  the  trail  from  the  north.  We 
could  only  communicate  by  signs ;  but  they  made  us  understand  that  the 
road  throii<^h  the  chain  was  a  very  excellent  one,  leading  into  a  broad 
valley  which  ran  to  the  southward.  We  halted  to  noon  at  what  may  be 
called  the  gate  of  the  pass  ;  on  either  side  of  which  wore  huge  mountains 
of  rock,  between  which  stole  a  little  pure-water  stream,  with  a  margin  just 
sufficiently  large  for  our  passage.  From  the  river  the  plain  had  gradu- 
ally risen  to  an  altitude  of  five  thousand  five  hundred  feet,  and  by  meridian 
observation  the  latitude  of  the  entrance  was  42". 

In  the  interval  of  our  usual  halt  several  of  us  wandered  along  up  the 
stream  to  examine  the  pass  more  at  leisure.  Within  the  gate  the  rocks 
receded  a  little  back,  leaving  a  very  narrow,  but  most  beautiful  valley, 
through  which  the  litde  stream  wound  its  way,  hidden  by  different  kinds 
of  trees  and  shrubs — aspen,  maple,  willow,  cherry,  and  elder;  a  fine  ver- 
dure of  smooth,  short  grass  spread  over  the  remaining  space  to  the  bare 
sides  of  the  rocky  walls.  These  were  of  a  blue  limestone,  which  consti- 
tutes the  mountain  here  ;  and  opening  directly  on  the  grassy  bottom  were 
several  curious  caves,  which  appeared  to  be  inhabited  by  root-diggers. 
On  one  side  was  gathered  a  heap  of  leaves  for  a  bed,  and  they  were  dry, 
open  and  pleasant.  On  the  roofs  of  the  caves  I  remarked  bituminous  exu- 
dations from  the  rock. 

The  trail  was  an  excellent  one  for  pack-horses  ;  but  as  it  sometimes 
crossed  a  shelving  point,  to  avoid  the  shrubbery  we  were  obliged  in  sev- 
eral places  to  open  a  road  for  the  carriage  through  the  wood.  A  squaw 
on  horseback,  accompanied  by  five  or  six  dogs,  entered  the  pass  in  the 
.'Aernoon,  but  was  too  much  terrified  at  finding  herself  in  such  unexpected 
company  to  make  any  pause  for  conversation,  and  hurried  off  at  a  good 
jtace  being  of  course  no  further  disturbed  than  by  an  accelerating  shout. 
She  was  well  and  showily  dressed,  and  was  probably  going  to  a  village 
encamped  somewhere  near,  and  evidently  did  not  belong  to  the  tribe  of 
Rool-diggcrs. 

We  had  now  entered  a  country  inhabited  by  these  people  ;  and  as  in 
the  course  of  our  voyage  we  shall  frequently  meet  with  them  in  vari- 
ous stages  of  existence,  it  will  be  well  to  remark  that,  scattered  over  the 
;,'reat  region  west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  and  south  of  the  Great  Snake 
River,  are  numerous  Indians  whose  subsistence  is  almost  solely  derived 
trom  roots  and  seeds,  and  such  small  animals  as  chance  and  great  good 
fortune  sometimes  bring  within  their  reach.  They  are  miserably  poor, 
armed  only  with  bows  and  arrows,  or  clubs  ;  and  as  the  country  they  in- 
li'ibit  is  almost  destitute  of  game,  they  have  no  means  of  obtaining  better 


I 

I 


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■'.'i 


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in 


I   :i 


!l6 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  I.I FJI—JOJIX  C/fAKIKS  IREMOXT. 


arms.  In  the  northern  part  of  the  region  just  mentioned  they  live  vtw- 
erally  in  solitary  families;  and  farther  to  the  south  they  are  .fathered 
together  in  villages. 

Those  who  live  together  in  villages,  strengthened  by  association,  arr 
in  exclusive  possession  of  the  more  genial  and  richer  parts  of  the  counirv 
while  the  others  are  ilriven  to  the  ruder  mountains  and  to  the  more  inhos- 
pitable parts  of  the  country.  But  simply  observing,  in  accompanyin"-  us 
along  our  road,  will  give  to  the  reader  a  better  knowledge  of  these  people 
than  I  couM  give  in  any  other  than  a  very  lengthened  description. 

Roots,  seeds,  and  grass,  every  vegetable  that  affords  anj-  nourishment, 
and  every  living  animal  thing,  insect  or  worm,  they  eat.  Nearl\  approach- 
ing to  the  lower  animal  creation,  their  sole  employment  is  to  obtain  food: 
and  they  are  constantly  occujjied  in  a  struggle  to  support  existence. 

In  the  annexed  view  will  be  found  a  sketch  of  the  Standing  AV/'— the 
most  remarkable  feature  of  the  jkiss,  where  a  huge  rock,  fallen  from  tiv 
cliffs  above,  and  standing  perpendicularly  near  the  middle  of  the  vallcv, 
presents  itself  like  a  watch-tower  in  the  pass.  It  will  give  a  tolerabh  (or 
rect  idea  of  the  character  of  the  scenery  in  this  country,  where  gencral'v 
the  mountains  rise  abruptly  up  from  comparatively  unbroken  plains  am! 
level  valleys  ;  but  it  will  entirely  fail  in  representing  the  picturesque  beautv 
of  this  delightful  place,  where  a  green  valley,  full  of  foliage  an.l  a  hundn  i 
yards  wide,  contrasts  with  naked  crags  that  spire  up  into  a  blue  line  nl' 
pinnacles  three  thousani  feet  above,  sometimes  crested  with  cedar  and 
pine,  and  sometimes  ragged  and  bare. 

The  detention  that  we  met  with  in  opening  the  road,  and  perhaps  a  wiil- 
ingness  to  linger  on  the  way,  made  the  afternoon's  travel  short ;  and  about 
two  miles  from  the  entrance  we  passed  through  another  gate,  and  encamped 
on  the  stream  at  the  junction  of  a  little  fork  from  the  southward,  around 
which  the  mountains  stooped  more  gently  down,  forming  a  small  open  cove. 

As  it  was  still  early  in  the  afternoon,  Basil  and  myself  in  one  direction, 
and  Mr.  Preuss  in  another,  set  out  to  explore  the  country,  and  ascended 
different  neighboring  peaks  in  the  hope  of  seeing  some  indications  of  the 
lake  ;  but  though  our  elevation  afforded  magnificent  views,  the  eye  ran^nn; 
f)\er  a  long  extent  of  Bear  River,  with  the  broad  and  fertile  Culic  I'alh:. 
in  the  direction  of  our  search  was  only  to  be  seen  a  bed  of  apparently 
impracticable  mountains.  Among  these  the  trail  we  had  been  following: 
turned  sharply  to  the  northward,  and  it  began  to  be  doubtful  if  it  would 
not  lead  us  away  from  the  object  of  our  destination  ;  but  I  nevertheless 
determined  to  kei'p  it,  in  the  belief  that  it  would  eventually  bring  us  right. 
A  squall  of  rain  drove  us  out  of  the  mountain,  ^nd  it  was  late  when  w 
reached  the  camp.  The  evening  closed  in  with  frequent  showers  of  rain 
with  some  lightning  and  thunder. 


wou'.vi 


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in  the 

clear  2 

romett 

earl)-,  ( 

a  hors( 

the  sui 

on  the 

were  S( 

had  be< 

Thi: 

cHed  tl: 

waijons 

o 

ami,  on 

and  bei 

roots  an 

cherry,  ' 

A  m( 

22 '  for  c 

one  hunc 

over  to  \ 

hacco,  kr 

visions. 

any  root; 

spare  fro 

aside  the 

not  any  h 

their  wre 

pose  then 

Agre; 

in  game  ; 

eastern  w. 

^0  rapidly 

neyed  alor 

remained  ( 

The  e.N 

"ur  territo 

scale  on  w 

wceptions, 

skins;  eve 

pf  the  buff; 

where  the\ 


SECOJVD  KXPKDITIOX— A   POOR  COU.VTRY,  «? 

August  30///. — Wo  had  constant  thunder-storms  during  the  night,  but 
in  the  morning  the  clouds  were  sinking  to  the  horizon,  and  the  air  was 
clear  and  cold,  with  the  thermometer  at  sunrise  at  39°.  Elevation  by  ba- 
rometer five  thousand  five  hundred  and  eighty  feet.  We  were  in  motion 
earlv,  continuing  up  the  little  stream  without  encountering  any  ascent  where 
a  horse  would  not  easily  gallop,  and,  crossing  a  slight  dividing  ground  at 
the  summit,  descended  upon  a  small  stream,  along  which  we  continued 
on  the  same  excellent  road.  In  riding  through  the  pass  numerous  cranes 
were  seen  ;  and  [)rairie  hens,  or  grouse  {Bonasia  umbellus),  which  lately 
hail  been  rare,  were  very  abundant. 

ihis  little  affluent  brought  us  to  a  larger  stream,  down  which  we  trav- 
elled through  a  more  open  bottom,  on  a  level  road  where  heavily-laden 
wagons  could  pass  without  obstacle.  The  hills  on  the  right  grew  lower, 
and,  on  entering  a  more  open  country,  we  discovered  a  .Shoshonee  village  ; 
and  being  desirous  to  obtain  information  and  purchase  from  them  some 
roots  and  berries,  we  halted  on  the  river,  which  was  lightly  wooded  with 
cherry,  willow,  maple,  service-berry,  and  aspen. 

.\  meridian  observation  of  the  sun  which  I  obtained  here  gave  42°  14' 
22  for  our  latitude,  and  the  barometer  indicated  a  height  of  five  thousand 
one  hundred  and  seventy  feet.  A  number  of  Indians  came  immediatelely 
over  to  visit  us,  and  several  men  were  sent  to  the  village  with  goods,  to- 
l)acco,  knives,  cloth,  vermilion,  and  the  usual  trinkets,  to  exchange  for  pro- 
visions. Hut  they  had  no  game  of  any  kind ;  and  it  was  difficult  to  obtain 
any  roots  from  them,  as  they  were  miserably  poor  and  had  but  little  to 
spare  from  their  winter  stock  of  provisions.  Several  of  the  Indians  drew 
aside  their  blankets,  showing  me  their  lean  and  bony  figures  ;  and  I  would 
not  any  longer  tempt  them  with  a  display  of  our  merchandise  to  part  with 
their  wretched  subsistence,  when  they  gave  as  a  reason  that  it  would  ex- 
pose them  to  temporary  starvation. 

A  great  portion  of  the  region  inhabited  by  this  nation  formerly  abounded 
in  game  ;  the  buffalo  ranging  about  in  herds,  as  we  had  found  them  on  the 
eastern  waters,  and  the  plains  dotted  with  scattered  bands  of  antelope  ;  but 
so  rapidly  have  they  disappeared  within  a  few  years,  that  now,  as  we  jour- 
neyed along,  an  occasional  buffalo-skull  and  a  few  wild  antelope  were  all  that 
remained  of  the  abundance  which  had  covered  the  country  with  animal  life. 
The  extraordinary  rapidity  with  which  the  buffalo  is  disappearing  from 
our  territorieo  will  not  appear  surprising  when  we  remember  the  great 
scale  on  which  their  destruction  is  yearly  carried  on.     With  inconsiderable 
exceptions,  the  business  of  the  American  trading-posts  is  carried  on  in  their 
skins ;  every  year  the  Indian  villages  make  new  lodges,  for  which  the  skin 
of  the  buffalo  furnishes  the  material  ;  and  in  that  portion  of  the  country 
where  they  are  still  found,  the  Indians  derive  their  entire  support  from 


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M/:.\rOJJiS  OF  MY  l.IFF.—JOII.^  CHARLES  FRtlMONT. 


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them,  and   slaughter  them  with  a  thoughtless  and   abominable  extrava 
gance.      Li^ce  the  Indians  themselves,  they  have  been  a  characteristic  of 
the  great  West ;  and  as,  like  them,  they  are  visibly  diminishing,  it  will  be 
interesting  to  throw  a  glance  backward  through  the  last  twenty  years,  and 
give  some  account  of  their  former  distribution  through  the  country  and  tin 
limit  of  their  western  range. 

The  information  is  derived  principally  from  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  supported 
by  my  own  personal  knowletlge  and  acquaintance  with  the  country.  Our 
knowledge  does  not  go  fartht-r  back  than  the  spring  of  1824,  at  which  tiirif 
the  buffalo  were  spread  in  immense  numbers  over  the  Green  River  and 
Bear  River  Valleys,  and  through  all  the  country  lying  between  the  Colo- 
rado,  or  Green  River  of  the  Gulf  of  California,  and  Lewis'  Fork  of  th'' 
Columbia  River  ;  the  meridian  of  Fort  Hall  then  forming  the  western  limit 
of  their  range. 

The  buffalo  then  remained  for  many  years  in  that  country,  and  fre- 
quently moved  down  the  valley  of  the  Columbia,  on  both  sides  of  the  river, 
as  far  as  the  Fishing  Falls.  Below  this  point  they  never  descended  in 
any  numbers.  About  the  year  1834  or  1835  they  began  to  diminish  very 
rapidly,  and  continued  to  decrease  until  1838  or  1840,  when,  with  the 
country  we  have  just  described,  they  entirely  abandoned  all  the  waters  of 
the  Pacific  north  of  Lewis'  Fork  of  the  Columbia.  At  that  time  the  Flat- 
head Indians  were  in  the  habit  of  finding  their  buffalo  on  the  heads  of  Sal- 
mon River  and  other  streams  of  the  Columbia  ;  but  now  they  never  meet 
with  them  farther  west  than  the  three  forks  of  the  Missouri,  or  the  plains 
of  the  Yellowstone  River. 

In  the  course  of  our  journey  it  will  be  remarked  that  the  buffalo  have 
not  so  entirely  abandoned  the  waters  of  the  Pacific,  in  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tain region  south  of  the  Sweet  Water,  as  in  the  country  north  of  the  Great 
Pass.  This  partial  distribution  can  only  be  accounted  for  in  the  great  pas- 
toral beauty  of  that  country,  which  bears  marks  of  having  long  been  one 
of  their  favorite  haunts,  and  by  .he  fact  that  the  white  hunters  have  more 
frequented  the  northern  th:'n  '.he  southern  region — it  being  north  of  the 
South  Pass  that  the  hunters,  trappers,  and  traders  have  had  their  rendez- 
vous for  many  years  past ;  and  froni  that  section  also  the  greater  portion 
of  the  beaver  and  rich  furs  were  taken,  although  always  the  most  danger- 
ous, as  well  as  the  most  profitable,  hunting-ground. 

In  that  region  lying  between  the  Green  or  Colorado  River  and  the 
head-waters  of  the  Rio  del  Norte,  over  the  Yampah,  Kooyah,  White,  and 
Grand  Rivers — all  of  which  are  the  waters  of  the  Colorado — the  buffalo 
never  extended  so  far  to  the  westward  as  they  did  on  the  waters  of  the 
Columbia  ;  and  only  in  one  or  two  instances  have  they  been  known  to  de- 
scend as  far  west  as  the  mou^h  of  White  River. 


SECOND  EXPEDITIOX— ABUNDANCE  OF  BUFFALO.  lU) 

In  travelling  through  the  country  west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  obser- 
vations readily  led  me  to  the  impression  that  the  buftalo  had,  for  the  first 
time,  crossed  that  range  to  the  waters  of  the  Pacific  only  a  few  years  prior 
to  the  period  we  are  considering ;  and  in  this  opinion  I  am  sustained  by 
Mr.  Fitzpatrick  and  the  older  trappers  in  that  country. 

In  the  region  west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  we  never  meet  with  any 
of  the  ancient  vestiges  which,  throughout  all  the  country  lying  upon  their 
eastern  waters,  are  found  in  the  great  higlnvays,  continuous  for  hundreds 
of  miles,  always  several  inches,  and  sometimes  several  feet  in  depth,  which 
the  buffalo  have  made  in  crossing  from  one  river  to  another,  or  in  travers- 
ing the  mountain  ranges.  The  Snake  Indians,  more  particularly  those 
low  down  upon  Lewis'  Fork,  have  always  been  very  grateful  to  the 
;\merican  trappers  for  the  great  kindness  (as  they  frequently  expressed 
it)  which  they  did  to  them,  in  driving  the  buffalo  so  low  down  the  Colum- 
bia River. 

The  extraordinary  abundance  of  the  buffalo  on  the  east  side  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  and  their  extraordinary  diminution,  will  be  made  clearly 
evident  from  the  following  statement :  At  any  time  between  the  years  1824 
and  1836  a  traveller  might  start  from  any  given  point,  south  or  north,  in 
the  Rocky  Mountain  range,  journeying  by  the  most  direct  route  to  the 
Missouri  River ;  and  during  the  whole  distance  his  road  would  be  always 
among  large  bands  of  buffalo,  which  would  never  be  out  of  his  view  until 
he  arrived  almost  within  sight  of  the  abodes  of  civilization. 

At  this  time  the  buffalo  occupy  but  a  very  limited  space,  principally 
along  the  eastern  base  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  sometimes  extending  at 
their  southern  extremity  to  a  considerable  distance  into  the  plains  between 
the  Platte  and  Arkansas  Rivers,  and  along  the  eastern  frontier  of  New 
Mexico  as  far  south  as  Texas. 

The  following  statement,  which  I  owe  to  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Sanford, 
a  partner  in  the  American  Fur  Company,  will  further  illustrate  this  subject, 
by  extensive  knowledge  acquired  during  several  years  of  travel  through 
the  region  inhabited  by  the  buffalo : 

"The  total  amount  of  robes  annually  traded  by  ourselves  and  others 
will  not  be  found  to  differ  much  from  the  following  statement : 

Robes. 

American  Fur  Company 7o,cxx) 

Hudson's  Uay  Company I0,ooo 

All  other  companies,  probably 10,000 

Making  a  total  of. 90,000 

as  an  average  annual  return  for  the  last  eight  or  ten  years. 


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220  MKMOfRS  OF  MY  LIl'E—JOHN  CHARLES  FR&MONT. 

"  In  the  northwest  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  purchase  from  the  In- 
dians but  a  very  small  number — their  only  market  being  Canada,  to  which 
the  cost  of  transportation  nearly  equals  the  produce  of  the  furs ;  and  it  is 
only  within  a  very  recent  period  that  they  have  received  buffalo-robes  in 
trade  ;  and  out  of  the  great  number  of  buffalo  annually  killed  throughout 
the  extensive  regions  inhabited  by  the  Comanches  and  other  kindred  tribes 
no  robes  whatever  are  furnished  for  trade.  During  only  four  months  of 
the  year  (from  November  until  March)  the  skins  are  good  for  dressing, 
those  obtained  in  the  remaining  eight  months  being  valueless  to  traders; 
and  the  hides  of  bulls  are  never  taken  off  or  dressed  as  robes  at  any  season. 
Probably  not  more  than  one-third  of  the  skins  are  taken  from  the  animals 
killed,  even  when  they  are  in  good  season,  the  labor  of  preparing  and 
dressing  the  robes  being  very  great ;  and  it  is  seldom  that  a  lodge  trades 
more  than  twenty  skins  in  a  year.  It  is  during  the  summer  months,  and 
in  the  early  part  of  autumn,  that  the  greatest  number  of  buffalo  are  killed, 
and  yet  at  this  time  a  skin  is  never  taken  for  the  purpose  of  trade." 

From  these  data,  which  are  certainly  limited,  and  decidedly  within 
bounds,  the  reader  is  left  to  draw  his  own  inference  of  the  immense  numbei 
annually  killed. 

In  1842  I  found  the  Sioux  Indians  of  the  Upper  Platte  ddmontcs,  as 
their  French  traders  expressed  it,  with  the  failure  of  the  buffalo ;  and  in 
the  following  year  large  villages  from  the  Upper  Missouri  came  over  to 
the  mountains  at  the  heads  of  the  Platte  in  search  of  them.  The  rapidly 
progresf.ive  failure  of  their  principal,  and  almost  their  only  means  of  sub- 
sistence, has  created  great  alarm  among  them ;  and  at  this  time  there  are 
only  two  modes  presented  to  them  by  which  they  see  a  good  prospect  for 
escaping  starvation  :  one  of  these  is  to  rob  the  settlements  along  the  frontier 
of  the  States;  and  the  other  is  to  form  a  league  between  th;:  various  tribes 
of  the  Sioux  nation,  the  Cheyennes,  and  Arapahoes,  and  make  war  against 
the  Crow  nation,  in  order  to  take  from  them  their  country,  which  is  now 
the  best  buffalo  country  in  the  West.  This  plan  they  now  have  in  consiil- 
cration ;  and  it  would  probably  be  a  war  of  extermination,  as  the  Crowi: 
have  long  been  advised  of  this  state  of  affairs,  and  say  that  they  are  per- 
fectly prepared.  These  are  the  best  warriors  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  am' 
are  now  allied  with  the  Snake  Indians  ;  and  it  is  probable  that  their  com- 
bination would  extend  itself  to  the  Utahs,  who  have  long  been  engaged  in 
war  against  the  Sioux.  It  is  in  this  section  of  country  that  my  observation 
formerly  led  me  to  recommend  the  establishment  of  a  military  post. 

The  further  course  of  cur  narrative  will  give  fuller  and  more  detailed 
information  of  the  present  disposition  of  the  buffalo  in  the  country  we 
visited. 


SECOND  EXPEDITION—SirOKr  OF  FOOD. 


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Among  the  roots  \vc  obtained  here  I  could  distinguish  only  tivc  or  six 
different  kinds ;  and  the  supply  of  the  Indians  whom  we  met  consisted 
principally  of  yampah  (^Anellinm  graveolcns),  tobacco  root  (^Valeriana), 
and  a  large  root  of  a  species  of  thistle  {Circium  Virginiannin  ),  which  now 
is  occasionally  abundant,  and  is  a  very  agreeably  Oavored  vegetable. 

Wc  had  been  detained  so  long  at  the  village  that  in  the  afternoon  \\v. 
made  only  five  miles,  and  encamped  on  the  same  river  after  a  day's  journey 
of  nineteen  miles.  The  Indians  informed  us  that  we  should  reach  the  big- 
salt  \  atcr  after  having  slept  twice  and  travelling  in  a  southerly  direction. 
The  stream  had  here  entered  a  nearly  level  plain  or  valley,  of  good  soil, 
eicht  or  ten  miles  broad,  to  which  no  termination  was  to  be  seen,  and  lying 
between  ranges  of  mountains  which,  on  the  right,  were  grassy  and  smooth, 
unliroken  by  rock,  and  lower  than  on  the  left,  where  they  were  rocky  and 
bald,  increasing  in  height  to  the  southward. 

On  the  creek  were  fringes  of  young  willows,  older  trees  being  rarely 
found  on  the  plains,  where  the  Indians  burn  the  surface  to  produce  better 
fi-rass.  Several  magpies  {Pica  Ifudsonica)  were  seen  on  the  crc^ek  this 
afternoon  ;  and  a  rattlesnake  was  killed  here,  the  first  which  had  been  seen 
since  leaving  the  eastern  plains.  Our  camp  to-night  had  such  a  hungry 
appearance  that  I  suffered  the  little  cow  to  be  killed,  and  divided  the  roots 
and  berries  among  the  people.  .\  number  of  Indians  from  the  village  en- 
camped near. 

The  weather  the  next  morning  was  clear,  the  thermometer  at  sunrise 
at  44.5',  and,  continuing  down  the  valley,  in  about  five  miles  we  followed 
the  litde  creek  of  our  encampment  to  its  junction  with  a  larger  stream, 
called  Roscaux,  or  Reed  River.  Immediately  opposite,  on  the  right,  the 
ran;Te  was  gathered  into  its  highest  peak,  sloping  gradually  low,  and  run- 
ninL,^  off  to  a  point  apparently  some  forty  or  fifty  miles  below.  Between 
this  (now  become  the  vidley  stream)  and  the  foot  of  the  mountains  we 
journeyed  along  a  handsome  sloping  level,  which  frequent  springs  from  the 
hills  niiide  occasioiially  miry,  :ind  halted  to  noon  at  a  swampy  spring,  whe^c 
there  were  good  grass  and  abundant  rushes.  Here  the  river  was  forty  feet 
wide,  with  a  considerable  currtnt;  and  the  valley  a  mile  and  a  half  in 
breadth ;  the  soil  being  generally  good,  of  a  dark  color,  and  appareutlv 
well  adapted  to  cultivation. 

The  day  had  become  bright  and  pleasant,  with  the  thermometer  at  7  i  . 
Ry  oliser^-  "in  our  latitude  was  41'  59'  3  .",  and  the  elevation  above  tlu^ 
sea  four  Uiousand  six  hundre'l  and  seventy  feet.  On  our  left,  this  aftcr- 
I'oon,  the  range  at  long  intervals  formed  irself  into  (leaks,  appearing  to 
terminate  about  forty  miles  below,  in  a  rocky  cape  ;  beyond  which  several 
others  were  faindy  visible  ;  and  we  were  disappoinictl  Avlien  at  every  little 
H'ie  we  did  not  see  the   lake.     Toward  evening  cur   way  was   somewhat 


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2  22  MEMO/US  OF  MY  LTFE—JOHN  CHARLES  FR&MONT. 

obstructed  by  fields  of  artemisia,  which  began  to  make  their  appearance 
here,  and  we  encamped  on  the  Roseaux,  the  water  of  which  had  acquired 
a  decidedly  salt  taste,  nearly  opposite  to  a  cailon  gap  in  the  mountains, 
through  which  the  Bear  River  enters  this  valley. 

As  we  encamped,  the  night  set  in  dark  and  cold,  with  heavy  rain ;  and 
the  artemisia,  which  was  here  our  only  wood,  was  so  wet  that  it  would  not 
burn.  A  poor,  nearly  starved  dog,  with  a  wound  in  his  side  from  a  ball, 
came  to  the  camp,  and  remained  with  us  until  the  winter,  when  he  met  a 
very  unexpected  fate. 

September  \st. — The  morning  was  squally  and  cold  ;  the  sky  scattered 
over  with  clouds  ;  and  the  night  had  been  so  uncomfortable  that  we  were 
not  on  the  road  until  eight  o'clock.  Travelling  between  Roseaux  and 
Bear  Rivers,  we  continued  to  descend  the  valley,  which  gradually  ex- 
panded, as  we  advanced,  into  a  level  plain  of  good  soil,  about  twenty-five 
miles  in  breadth,  between  mountains  three  thousand  and  four  thousand 
feet  high,  rising  suddenly  to  the  clouds,  which  all  day  rested  upon  the  peaks. 
These  gleamed  out  in  the  occasional  sunlight,  mantled  with  the  snow 
which  had  fallen  upon  them,  while  it  rained  on  us  in  the  valley  below,  of 
which  the  elevation  here  was  about  four  thousand  five  hundred  feet  above 
the  sea. 

The  country  before  us  plainly  indicated  that  we  were  approaching  the 
lake,  though  as  the  ground  where  we  were  travelling  afforded  no  elevated 
point,  nothing  of  it  as  yet  could  be  seen  ;  and  at  a  great  distance  ahead 
were  several  isolated  mountains,  resembling  islands,  which  they  were  after- 
ward found  to  be.  Or  this  upper  plain  the  grass  was  everywhere  deid; 
and  among  the  shrubs  with  which  it  was  almost  exclusively  occupied 
(artemisia  being  the  most  abundant)  frequently  occurred  handsome  clus- 
ters of  several  species  of  dieteria  in  bloom.  Purshia  tridentata  was  among 
the  frequent  shrubs. 

Descending  to  the  bottoms  of  Bear  River  we  found  good  grass  for  the 
animals,  and  encamped  about  three  hundred  yards  above  the  mouth  ol 
Roseaux,  which  here  makes  its  junction,  without  communicating  any  of  its 
salty  taste  to  the  main  stream,  of  which  the  water  remains  perfectly  pure, 
On  the  river  are  only  willow  thickets  {Salix  longifolid),  and  in  the  bot- 
toms the  abundant  plants  are  canes,  solidago,  and  helianthi,  and  alonsj  the 
banks  of  Roseaux  are  fields  of  Malva  rotundifolia.  At  ;;unset  the  ther- 
mometer was  at  54.5",  and  the  evening  clear  and  c.^lm  ;  but  I  deferred 
making  any  use  of  it  until  one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  wiien  I  endeavored 
to  obtain  an  emersion  of  the  first  satellite  ;  but  it  was  lost  in  a  bank  ot 
clouds,  which  also  rendered  our  usual  observations  indifferent. 

Among  the  usefid  things  which  formed  a  portion  of  our  equipage  was 
an  India-rubber  boat,  eighteen  feet  long,  made  somewhat  in  the  f-rm ''i 


SECOND  EXr  TD/TION—OUJi  RUBBER  BOA  T. 


223 


a  bark  canoe  of  the  northern  lakes.  The  sides  were  formed  by  two  air- 
tight cylinders,  eighteen  inches  in  diameter,  connected  with  others  forming- 
the  bow  and  stern.  To  lessen  the  danger  from  accidents  to  the  boat,  these 
wore  divided  into  four  different  compartments,  and  the  interior  space  was 
sufficiently  large  to  contain  five  or  six  persons,  and  a  considerable  weight 
of  baiTgage.  The  Roseaux  being  too  deep  to  be  forded,  our  boat  was 
tilled  with  air,  and  in  about  one  hour  all  the  equipage  of  the  camp,  car- 
riage and  gun  included,  ferried  across. 

Thinking  that  perhaps  in  the  course  of  the  day  we  might  reach  the  out- 
let at  the  lake,  I  got  into  the  boat  with  Basil  Lajeunesse,  and  paddled 
down  Bear  River,  intending  at  night  to  rejoin  the  party,  which  in  the  mean- 
time proceeded  on  its  way.  The  river  was  from  sixty  to  one  hundred 
yards  broad,  and  the  water  so  deep  that,  even  on  the  comparatively  shal- 
low points,  we  could  not  reach  the  bottom  within  fifteen  feet.  On  either 
M'jj  were  alternately  low  bottoms  and  willow  points,  with  an  occasional 
iiigh  prairie ;  and  for  five  or  six  hours  we  followed  slowly  the  winding 
course  of  the  river,  which  crept  along  with  a  sluggish  current  among  fre- 
([uent  dc'tours  several  miles  around,  sometimes  running  for  a  considerable 
distance  directly  up  the  valley. 

As  we  were  stealing  quietly  down  the  stream,  trying  in  vain  to  get  a  shot 
at  a  strange  large  bird  that  was  numerous  among  the  willows,  but  very  shy, 
we  came  unexpectedly  upon  several  families  of  Rooi  Diggers,  who  were 
encamped  among  the  rushes  on  the  shore,  and  appeared  very  busy  about 
several  weirs  or  nets  which  had  been  rudely  made  of  canes  and  rushes  for 
the  purpose  of  catching  fish.  They  were  very  much  startled  at  our  appear- 
ance, but  we  soon  established  an  acquaintance ;  and  finding  that  they  had 
some  roots,.  I  promised  to  send  some  men  with  goods  to  trade  with  them. 
They  h  vl  tli,-  usual  very  large  heads,  remarkable  among  the  Digger  tribe, 
with  matfe<'  air,  and  were  almost  entirely  naked  ;  looking  very  poor  and 
mis'  a;  '  r^  if  their  lives  had  been  spent  in  the  rushes  where  they  were, 
bpyor.d  \v!,'ch  thry  see. tied  to  have  very  little  knowledge  of  anything. 
From  the  u  .  ,ords  we  could  comprehend  their  language  was  that  of  the 
^nake  Indians. 

Our  boat  moved  so  heavily,  that  we  had  made  very  little  progress  ; 
and,  finding  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  overtake  the  camp,  as  soon  as 
wo  were  sufficiently  far  below  the  Indians,  we  put  to  the  shore  near  a  high 
prairie  bank,  hauled  up  the  boat,  and  cached  our  effects  in  the  willows. 
A  r  nding  the  bank,  wc  found  that  our  desultory  labor  had  brought  us 
'  I  iv  !V\v  miles  in  a  direct  line  ;  and,  going  out  into  the  prairie,  after  a 
star.  ,-  found  the  trail  of  the  camp,  which  was  now  nowhere  in  sight, 
but  huii  ibliowed  the  general  course  of  the  river  in  a  large  circular  sweep 
which  it  makes  at  this  place.     The  sun  was  about  three  hours  high  when 


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234 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


we  found  the  trail ;  and  as  our  people  had  passed  early  in  the  day,  we  had 
the  prospect  of  a  vigorous  walk  before  us. 

Immediately  where  we  landed,  the  high  arable  plain  on  whicli  we  had 
been  travelling  for  several  days  past,  terminated  in  extensive  low  flats, 
very  generally  occupied  by  salt  marshes,  or  beds  of  shallow  lakes,  whence 
the  water  had  in  most  places  evaporated,  leaving  their  hard  surface  en- 
crusted with  a  shining  white  residuum,  and  absolutely  covered  with  verv 
small  univalve  shells.  As  we  advanced,  the  whole  country  around  us  as- 
sumed this  appearance  ;  and  there  was  no  other  vegetation  than  the 
shrubby  chenopodiaceous  and  other  apparently  saline  plants,  which  were 
confined  to  the  rising  grounds. 

Here  and  there  i,n  the  river  bank,  which  was  raised  like  a  levee  above 
the  flats  through  wJvj  '  '■an,  was  a  narrow  border  of  grass,  and  short, 
black-burned  willows  ;  'ream  being  -"fry  r''»':p  and  sluggish,  and  some- 

times six  hundred  to  eigi..  hundred  feet  wide.  After  a  rapid  walk  of  about 
fifteen  miles,  we  caught  sight  of  the  camp-fires  among  clumps  of  willows 
just  as  the  sun  had  sunk  behind  the  mountains  on  the  west  side  of  the  val- 
ley, filling  the  clear  sky  with  a  golden  yellow.  These  last  rays,  to  us  so 
precious,  could  not  have  revealed  a  more  welcome  sight.  To  the  traveller, 
and  the  hunter,  a  camp  fire  in  the  lonely  wilderness  Is  always  cheering; 
and  to  ourselves,  in  our  present  situation,  after  a  hard  march  in  a  region  of 
novelty,  approaching  the  debouches  of  a  river,  in  a  lake  of  almost  fabulous 
reputation,  it  was  doubly  so. 

A  plentiful  supper  of  aquatic  birds,  and  the  interest  of  the  scene,  soon 
dissipated  fatigue;  and  I  obtained  during  the  night  emersions  of  the  sec- 
ond, third,  and  fourth  satellites  of  Jupiter,  with  observations  for  time  and 
latitude. 


UTAH   INDIAN. 


Si 


!  I- 'ill 


»!;i 


CHAPTER    VII. 


In  the  Vicinity  of  Salt  Lake — Weber's  Fork — Living  on  Roots — The  Unknown  Sea — 
Fried  Worms  for  Food — Meet  Mr.  Fitzpatrick — Three  Buttes — A  Melancholy 
and  Strange  Looking  Country — Mr.  Payette's  Hospitality — Cayiise  Indians — A 
Perilous  Search  for  Water — Big  Trees — The  Devil's  Hole — Submerged  Forests. 

Scptnnher  ^d. — The  morning  was  clear,  with  a  light  air  from  the  north, 
and  the  thermometer  at  sunrise  at  45.5  .  At  three  in  the  morning  Basil 
was  sent  back  with  several  men  and  horses  for  the  boat,  which,  in  a  direct 
course  across  the  flats,  was  not  ten  miles  distant ;  and  in  the  meantime 
there  was  a  pretty  spot  of  grass  here  for  the  animals.  The  ground  was 
so  low  that  we  could  not  get  high  enough  to  see  across  the  river  on  ac- 
count of  the  willows  ;  but  we  were  evidently  in  the  vicinity  of  the  lake,  and 
the  water-fowl  made  this  morning  a  noise  like  thunder.  A  pelican  (  Pelc- 
(anus  onocrotalus)  was  killed  as  he  passed  by,  and  many  geese  and  ducks 
flew  over  the  camp.  On  the  dry  salt  marsh  here  is  scarce  any  other  plant 
than  Saliiortiia  hcrbacea. 

In  the  afternoon  the  men  returned  with  the  boat,  bringing  with  them  a 
small  quantity  of  roots,  and  some  meat,  which  the  Indians  had  told  them 
was  bear-meat. 

Descending  the  river  for  about  three  miles  in  the  afternoon,  we  found 

a  bar  to  any  further  travelling  in  that  direction — the  stream  being  spread 

out  in  several  branches  and  covering  the  low  grounds  with  water,  where 

the  miry  nature  of  the  bottom  did  not  permit  any  further  advance.    We  were 

evidently  on  the  border  of  the  lake,  although  the  rushes  and  canes  which 

covered  the  marshes  prevented  any  view  ;  and  we  accordingly  encamped 

at  the  litde  delta  wdiich  forms  the  mouth  of  Rear  River,  a  long  arm  of  the 

lake  stretching  up  to  the  north  between  us  and  the  opposite  mountains. 

i  he  river  was  bordered  with  a  fringe  of  willows  and  canes,  among  which 

were  interspersed  a  few  plants ;  and  scattered  about  on  the  marsh  was  a 

species  (Auniola,  closely  allied  to  U.  spicata  of  our  sea-coast.     The  whole 

morass  was  animated  with  multitudes  of  water-fowl,  which  appeared  to  be 

very  wild— risiny  for  the  space  of  a  mile  round  about  at  the  sound  of  a  gun, 

widi  a  noise  like  distant  thunder.    Several  of  the  people  waded  out  into  the 

marshes,  and  we  had  to-night  a  delicious  supper  of  ducks,  geese,  and  plover. 

Although  the  moon  was  bright  the  night  was  otherwise  favorable ;  and 


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226  MEMOIRL   OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN'  CHARLES  FREMONT. 

!  obtained  this  evening  an  emersion  of  the  first  satelHte,  with  the  usual  ob- 
servations, A  mean  result,  depending  on  various  observations  made  dur- 
ing our  stay  in  the  neighborhood,  places  the  mouth  of  the  river  in  longitude 
112°  19'  30"  west  from  Greenwich;  latitude  41°  30'  22";  and,  according 
to  the  barometer,  in  elevation  four  thousand  two  hundred  feet  above  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico.  The  night  was  clear,  with  considerable  dew,  which  I  had 
remarked  every  night  since  September  first. 

The  next  morning,  while  we  were  preparing  to  start,  Carson  rode  into 
the  camp  with  flour  and  a  few  other  articles  of  light  provision,  sufficient  for 
two  or  three  days — a  scanty  but  very  acceptable  supply.  Mr.  Fitzpatrick 
had  not  yet  arrived,  and  provisions  were  very  scarce  and  difficult  to  be  had 
at  Fort  Hall,  which  had  been  entirely  exhausted  by  the  necessities  of  the 
emigrants.  He  brought  me  also  a  letter  from  Mr.  Dwight,  who,  in  com- 
pany with  several  emigrants,  had  reached  that  place  in  advance  of  Mr. 
Fitzpatrick,  and  was  about  continuing  his  journey  to  Vancouver. 

Returning  about  five  miles  up  the  river,  we  were  occupied  until  nearly 
sunset  in  crossing  to  the  left  bank — the  stream,  which  in  the  last  five  or  six 
miles  of  its  course  is  very  much  narrower  than  above,  being  very  deep  im- 
mediately at  the  banks,  and  we  had  great  difficulty  in  getting  our  animals 
over.  The  people  with  the  baggage  were  easily  crossed  in  the  boat,  and 
we  encamped  on  the  left  bank  where  we  crossed  the  river.  At  sunset  the 
thermometer  was  at  75°,  and  there  was  some  rain  during  the  night,  with  a 
thunder-storm  at  a  distance. 

September  ^th. — Before  us  was  evidently  the  bed  of  the  lake,  being  a 
great  salt  marsh  perfectly  level  and  bare,  whitened  in  places  by  salint- 
efflorescences,  with  here  and  there  a  pool  of  water,  and  having  the  appear- 
ance of  a  very  level  sea-shore  at  low  tide.  Immediately  along  the  river 
was  a  very  narrow  strip  of  vegetation,  consisting  of  willows,  helianthi, 
roses,  flowering  vines,  and  grass ;  bordered  on  the  verge  of  the  great 
marsh  by  a  fringe  of  singular  plants  which  appear  to  be  a  shrubby  sali- 
cornia,  or  a  genus  allied  to  it. 

About  twelve  miles  to  the  southward  was  one  of  those  isolated  moun- 
tains, now  appearing  to  be  a  kind  of  peninsula  ;  and  toward  this  we  ac- 
cordingly directed  our  course,  as  it  probably  afforded  a  good  view  of  the 
lake  ;  but  the  deepening  mud  as  we  advanced  forced  us  to  return  toward 
the  river  and  gain  the  higher  ground  at  the  foot  of  the  eastern  mounfains. 
Here  we  halted  for  a  few  minutes  at  noon,  on  a  beautiful  little  stream  of 
pure  and  remarkably  clear  water,  with  a  bed  of  rock  in  situ,  on  which  was 
an  abundant  water-plant  with  a  white  blossom.  There  was  good  grass  in 
the  bottoms  ;  and,  amid  a  rather  luxuriant  growth,  its  banks  were  bordered 
with  a  large  showy  plant  {Etipatoriiim  purpureurn),  which  I  here  saw  for 
the  first  time.     We  named  the  stream  Clear  Creek. 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— WEBER'S  FORK.  227 

We  continued  our  way  along  the  mountain,  having  found  here  a  broad 
plainly  beaten  trail,  over  what  was  apparently  the  shore  of  the  lake  in  the 
sprine ;  the  ground  being  high  and  firm,  and  the  soil  excellent  and  covered 
with  ve"-etation,  among  which  a  leguminous  plant  {Glycyrr/nza  lepidota) 
was  a  characteristic.  The  ridge  here  rises  abruptly  to  the  height  of 
about  four  thousand  feet,  its  face  being  very  prominently  marked  with  a 
massive  stratum  of  rose-colored  granular  quartz,  which  is  evidently  an  al- 
tered sedimentary  rock — the  lines  of  deposition  being  very  distinct.  It  is 
roclcy  and  steep,  divided  into  several  mountains,  and  the  rain  in  the  valley 
appears  to  be  always  snow  on  their  summits  at  this  season.  Near  a  remark- 
able rocky  point  of  the  mountain,  at  a  large  spring  of  pure  water,  were  sev- 
eral hackberry  trees  {celtls),  probably  a  new  species,  the  berries  still  green  ; 
and  a  short  distance  farther,  thickets  of  sumach  {thus). 

On  the  plain  here  I  noticed  blackbirds  and  grouse.  In  about  seven 
miles  from  Clear  Creek  the  trail  brought  us  to  a  place  at  the  foot  of  the 
mountain  where  there  issued,  with  considerable  force,  ten  or  twelve  hot 
springs,  highly  impregnated  with  salt.  In  one  of  these  the  thermometer 
stood  at  136^,  and  in  another  at  132. 5""  ;  and  the  water,  which  spread  in 
pools  over  the  low  ground,  was  colored  red. 

At  this  place  the  trail  we  had  been  following  turned  to  the  left,  ap- 
parendy  with  the  view  of  entering  a  gorge  in  the  mountain,  from  which  is- 
sued the  principal  fork  of  a  large  '\nd  comparatively  well-timbered  stream, 
called  Weber's  For'-.  We  accordingly  turned  off  toward  the  lake  and  en- 
camped on  this  river,  which  was  one  hundred  to  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
wide,  with  high  banks,  and  very  clear,  pure  water,  without  the  slightest  in- 
dication of  salt. 

September  6th. — Leaving  the  encampment  early,  we  again  directed  our 
course  for  the  peninsular  butte,  across  a  low  shrubby  plain,  crossing  in  the 
way  a  slough-like  creek  with  miry  banks,  and  wooded  with  thickets  of  thorn 
[cmtcrgtts)  which  were  loaded  with  berries.  This  time  we  reached  the 
butte  without  any  difficulty,  and,  ascending  to  the  summit,  immediately  at 
our  feet  beheld  the  object  of  our  anxious  search — the  waters  of  the  inland 
Sea  stretching  in  still  and  solitary  grandeur  far  beyond  the  limit  of  our 

'An  analysis  of  the  red  earthy  matter  deposited  in  the  bed  of  the  stream  from  the  springs  gives 
tlie  following  result : 

I'cioxido  of  iron 33- 5° 

Carl)oiiate  of  magnesia 2.40 

Carbonate  of  lime 50-43 

Sulphate  of  lime 2.00 

Chloride  of  sodium 3.45 

Silica  and  alumina 3.CX) 

Water  and  loss 5.22 

icxj.oo 


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238 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  EREMOXT. 


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vision.  It  was  one  of  the  great  points  of  the  exploration  ;  and  as  we  lookcu 
eagerly  over  the  lake  in  the  first  emotions  of  excited  pleasure,  I  am  uOuLt- 
fiil  if  the  followers  of  Balboa  felt  more  enthusiasm  when,  from  the  hcHits 
of  the  Andes,  they  saw  for  the  first  time  the  great  Western  Ocean.  It  was 
certainly  a  magnificent  object,  and  a  noble  (crminns  to  this  part  of  our  ex- 
pedition ;  and  to  travellers  so  long  shut  up  among  mountain  ranges  a  sudden 
view  over  the  expanse  of  silent  waters  had  in  it  sonK.'thing  sublime.  .Stvr- 
ral  large  islands  raised  their  high  rocky  heads  out  of  the  waves ;  l)i|i 
whether  or  not  they  were  timbered  was  still  left  to  our  imagination,  as  thr 
distance  was  too  great  to  determine  if  the  dark  hues  upon  them  wert?  wof.  •- 
land  or  naked  rock. 

During  the  day  the  clouds  had  been  gathering  black  over  the  moui'tain- 
to  the  westwartl,  and  while  we  were  looking  a  storm  burst  down  ".r.ii 
sudden  fury  upon  the  lake  and  entirely  hid  the  islands  from  our  view.  S.i 
far  as  we  could  see,  along  the  shores  there  was  not  a  solitary  tree,  and  i,..i 
little  appearance  of  grass ;  and  on  Weber's  I'^ork,  a  few  miles  below  our 
last  encampment,  the  timber  Avas  gathered  into  groves,  and  then  disap- 
peared entirely.  As  this  appeared  to  be  the  nearest  point  to  the  lake 
where  a  suitable  cam[)  could  be  found,  we  directed  our  course  to  one  of  the 
groves,  where  we  found  a  handsome  encampment,  with  good  grass  and  an 
abundance  of  rushes  {Eqinsctnm  Iiycnnxlc).  At  sunset  tht^  thermometiT 
was  at  55°  ;  the  evening  clear  and  calm,  with  some  cumuli. 

September  'jth. — The  morning  was  calm  and  clear,  with  a  temperatun' 
at  sunrise  of  39.5°.  The  day  was  spent  in  active  preparation  for  our  in- 
tended voyage  on  the  lake.  On  the  edge  of  the  stream  a  favorable  spot 
was  selected  in  a  grove,  and,  felling  the  timber,  Ave  made  a  strong  corral,  or 
horse-pen,  for  the  animals,  and  a  little  fort  for  the  people  who  were  to  re- 
main. We  were  now  probably  in  the  country  of  the  Utah  Indians,  thou!,'h 
none  reside  upon  the  lake.  The  india-rubber  boat  was  repaired  with  pre- 
pared cloth  and  gum,  and  filled  with  air,  in  readiness  for  the  next  day. 

The  provisions  which  Carson  had  brought  with  him  being  now  ex- 
hausted, and  our  stock  reduced  to  a  small  t[uantity  of  roots,  I  determined 
to  retain  with  me  only  a  sufficient  number  of  men  for  the  execution  ot 
our  design  ;  and  accordingly  seven  were  sent  to  Fort  Hall  under  the  t,niid- 
ance  ol  Francois  Lajeunesse,  who,  having  been  for  many  vears  a  trap- 
per in  the  country,  was  considered  an  experienced  mountaineer.  Thoii,L!ii 
they  were  provided  with  good  horses,  and  the  roatl  was  a  remarkably  plain 
one  of  only  four  days'  journey  for  a  horseman,  they  became  bewilderP'i 
(as  we  afterward  learned),  and,  losing  their  way,  wandered  about  tlu' 
country  in  parties  of  one  or  two,  reaching  the  fort  about  a  weekafterwari. 
Some  straggled  in  of  themselves  and  the  others  were  brought  in  by  In- 
dians who  had  picked  them  up  on  Snake  River,  about  sixty  miles  below 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— LIVING  ON  ROOTS. 


229 


the  fort,  travellings  along  the  emigrant  road  in  full  march  for  the  Lower 
Columbia.     The  loader  of  this  adventurous  party  was  Francjois. 

Hourly  barometrical  observations  were  made  during  the  day,  and,  after 
departure  of  the  party  for  Fort  Hall,  we  occupied  ourselves  in  continuing 
our  little  preparations  and  in  becoming  acquainted  with  the  country  in  the 
vicinity.  The  bottoms  along  the  river  were  timbered  with  several  kinds 
of  willow,  hawthorn,  and  fine  cotton-wood  trees  [Poptilus  canadensis)  with 
remarkably  large  leaves,  and  sixty  feet  in  height  by  measurement. 

We  formed  now  but  a  small  family.  With  Mr.  Preuss  and  myself,  Car- 
son, Bernier,  and  Basil  Lajeunesse  had  been  selected  for  the  boat  expedi- 
tion the  first  ever  attempted  on  this  interior  sea ;  and  Badeau,  with  De- 
rosicr  and  Jacob  Tthe  colored  man),  were  to  be  left  in  charge  of  the  camp. 
We  were  favored  with  most  delightful  weather. 

Tonight  there  was  a  brilliant  sunset  of  golden  orange  and  green,  which 
left  the  western  sky  clear  and  beautifully  pure  ;  but  clouds  in  the  east  made 
me  lose  an  occultation.  The  summer  frogs  were  singing  around  us,  and 
the  evening  was  very  pleasant,  with  a  temperature  of  60° — a  night  of  a 
more  southern  autumn.  For  our  supper  we  had  yampah,  the  most  agree- 
ably flavored  of  the  roots,  seasoned  by  a  small  fat  duck  which  had  come 
in  the  way  of  Jacob's  rifle.  Around  our  fire  to-night  were  many  specula- 
tions on  what  to-morrow  would  bring  forth,  and  in  our  busy  conjectures 
we  fancied  that  we  should  find  everyone  of  the  large  islands  a  tangled 
wilderness  of  trees  and  shrubbery,  teeming  with  game  of  every  description 
that  the  neighboring  region  afforded  and  which  the  foot  of  a  white  man 
or  Indian  had  never  violated. 

Frcquendy,  during  the  day,  clouds  had  rested  on  the  summits  of  their 
lofty  mountains,  and  we  believed  that  we  should  find  clear  streams  and 
springs  of  fresh  water  ;  and  we  indulged  in  anticipations  of  the  luxurious 
repasts  with  which  we  were  to  indemnify  ourselves  for  past  privations. 
Neither,  in  our  discussions,  were  the  whirlpool  and  other  mysterious  dan- 
:.j(jrs  for((otten  which  Indian  and  hunters'  stories  attributed  to  this  unex- 
plored lake. 

The  men  had  discovered  that,  instead  of  being  stroneV  ewed  (like 
that  of  the  preceding  year,  which  so  triumphantly  rode  the  cuions  of  the 
Ipper  Great  Platte),  our  present  boat  was  only  pasted  together  in  a  very 
insecure  manner,  the  maker  having  been  allowed  so  little  time  in  the 
construction  that  he  was  obliged  to  crowd  the  labor  of  two  months  into 
several  days.  The  insecurity  of  the  boat  was  sensibly  felt  by  us  ;  and, 
mingled  with  the  enthusiasm  and  excitement  that  we  all  felt  at  the  prospect 
ofan  undertaking  which  had  never  before  been  accomplished,  was  a  certain 
impression  of  danger,  sufficient  to  give  a  serious  character  to  our  conver- 
vition. 


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«30 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT 


The  momentary  view  which  had  been  had  of  the  lake  the  c.  ^  before 
its  great  extent  and  rugged  islands,  dimly  seen  amidst  the  dark  waters  in 
the  obscurity  of  the  sudden  storm,  were  well  calculated  to  heighten  the 
idea  of  undefined  danger  with  which  the  lake  was  generally  associated. 

September  %t/i. — A  calm,  clear  day,  with  a  sunrise  temperature  of  41, 
In  view  of  our  present  enterprise,  a  part  of  the  equipment  of  the  boat  had 
been  made  to  consist  in  three  air-tight  bags,  about  three  feet  long,  and  ca 
pable  each  of  containing  five  gallons.  These  had  been  filled  with  water 
the  night  before,  and  were  now  placed  in  the  boat,  with  our  blankets  and 
instruments,  consisting  of  a  sextant,  telescope,  spy-glass,  thermometer,  and 
barometer. 

We  left  the  camp  at  sunrise,  and  had  a  very  pleasant  voyage  down  ihi 
river,  in  which  th-^re  was  generally  eight  or  ten  feet  of  water,  deepening  as 
we  neared  the  mouth  in  the  latter  part  of  the  day.  In  the  course  of  the 
morning  we  discovered  that  two  of  the  cylinders  leaked  so  much  as  to  re- 
quire one  man  constantly  at  the  bellows  to  keep  them  sufiiciendy  full  of 
air  to  support  the  boat. 

Although  we  had  made  a  very  early  start,  we  loitered  so  much  on  the 
way — stopping  every  now  and  then,  and  floating  silently  along  to  get  a 
shot  at  a  goose  or  a  duck — that  it  was  late  in  the  day  w^  we  reached 
the  outlet.     The  river  here  divided  into  several  branche;  1  with  flu- 

vials,  and  so  very  shallow  that  it  was  with  difficulty  we  coulu  get  the  boat 
along,  being  obliged  to  get  out  and  wade.  We  encamped  on  a  low  point 
among  rushes  and  young  willows,  where  there  was  a  quantity  of  drift-wood 
which  served  for  our  fires. 

The  evening  was  mild  and  clear  ;  we  made  a  pleasant  bed  of  the  young 
willows ;  and  geese  and  ducks  enough  had  been  killed  for  an  abundant 
supper  at  night,  and  for  breakfast  next  morning.  The  stillness  of  the 
night  was  enlivened  by  millions  of  water-fowl.  Latitude  (by  observation) 
41^  n'  26"  ;  and  longitude  112'  11'  30". 

September  gt/i. — The  day  was  clear  and  calm  ;  the  thermometer  at  sun- 
rise at  49°.  As  is  usual  with  the  trappers  on  the  eve  of  any  enterprise, 
our  people  had  made  dreams,  and  theirs  happened  to  be  a  bad  one— one 
which  always  preceded  evil — and  consequently  they  looked  very  gloomy 
this  morning;  but  we  hurried  through  our  breakfast,  in  order  to  make  an 
early  start  and  have  all  the  day  before  us  for  our  adventure. 

The  channel  in  a  short  distance  became  so  shallow  that  our  navigation 
was  at  an  end,  being  merely  a  sheet  of  soft  mud,  with  a  few  inches  of 
water,  and  sometimes  none  at  all,  forming  the  low- water  shore  of  the  lake. 
All  this  place  was  absolutely  covered  with  flocks  of  screaming  plover.  Wt 
took  off  our  clothes,  and,  getting  overboard,  commenced  dragging  the 
boat — making,  by  this  operation,  a  very  curious  trail,  and  a  very  disagree- 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— THE  UNKNOWN  SEA. 


23« 


able  smell  in  stirring  up  the  mud,  as  we  sank  above  the  knee  at  every  step. 
The  water  here  was  still  fresh,  with  only  an  insipid  and  disagreeable  taste, 
probably  derived  from  the  bed  of  fetid  mud.  After  proceeding  in  this  way 
about  a  mile  we  came  to  a  small  black  ridge  on  the  bottom,  beyond  which 
the  water  became  suddenly  salt,  beginning  gradually  to  deepen,  and  the 
bottom  was  sandy  and  firm.  It  was  a  remarkable  division,  separating  the 
fresh  water  of  the  rivers  from  the  briny  water  of  the  lake,  which  was  en- 
tirely saturated  with  common  salt.  Pushing  our  little  vessel  across  the 
narrow  boundary,  we  sprang  on  board,  and  at  length  were  afloat  on  the 
waters  of  the  unknown  sea. 

We  did  not  steer  for  the  mountainous  islands,  but  directed  our  course 
toward  a  lower  one  which  it  had  been  decided  we  should  first  visit,  the 
summit  of  which  was  formed  like  the  crater  at  the  upper  end  of  Bear  River 
Valley.  So  long  as  we  could  touch  the  bottom  with  our  paddles,  we  were 
very  gay ;  but  gradually,  as  the  water  deepened,  we  became  more  still  in 
our  frail  bateau  of  gum  cloth  distended  with  air,  and  with  pasted  seams. 
Although  the  day  was  very  calm,  there  was  a  considerable  swell  on  the 
lake;  and  there  were  white  patches  of  fo  im  on  the  surface,  which  were 
slowly  moving  to  the  southward,  indicating  the  set  of  a  current  in  that  di- 
rection and  recalling  the  recollection  of  the  whirlpool  stories.  The  water 
continued  to  deepen  as  we  advanced ;  the  lake  becoming  almost  transpar- 
ently clear,  of  an  extremely  beautiful  bright-green  color  ;  and  the  spray, 
which  was  thrown  into  the  boat  and  mer  our  clothes,  was  directly  con- 
verted into  a  crust  of  common  salt,  which  covered  also  our  hands  and 
arms. 

"  Captain,"  said  Carson,  who  for  some  time  had  been  looking  suspi- 
ciously at  some  whitening  appearances  outside  the  nearest  islands,  "  what 
are  those  yonder? — won't  you  just  take  a  look   with  the  glass?"     We 
ceased  paddling  for  a  moment,  and  found  them  to  be  the  caps  of  the  waves 
that  were  beginning  to  break  under  the  force  of  a  strong  breeze  that  was 
coming  up  the  lake.     The  form  of  the  boat  seemed  to  be  an  admirable  one, 
and  it  rode  on  the  waves  like  a  water  bird  ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  it  was 
extremely  slow  in  its  progress.     When  we  were  a  little  more  than  halfway 
across  the  reach,  two  of  the  divisions  between  the  cylinders  gave  way,  and 
it  required  the  constant  use  of  the  bellows  to  keep  in  a  sufficient  quantity 
of  air.    For  a  long  time  we  scarcely  seemed  to  approach  our  island,  but 
gradually  we  worked  across  the  rougher  sea  of  the  open  channel  into  the 
smoother  water  under  the  lee  of  the  island,  and  began  to  discover  that 
what  we  took  for  a  long  row  of  pelicans  ranged  on  the  beach,  were  only 
low  cliffs  whitened  with  salt  by  the  spray  of  the  waves ;  and  about  noon 
we  reached  the  shore,  the  transparency  of  the  water  enabling  us  to  see 
the  bottom  at  a  considerable  depth. 


r   '"'■■  .'  '!!      '.'■"If 


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lift..      J"-  'ii^' 


1 


-3* 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


It  was  a  handsome  broad  beach  where  we  land'^d,  behind  which  tlic 
hill,  into  which  the  island  was  gathered,  rose  somewhat  abrupt!)- ,  and  a 
point  of  rock  at  one  end  enclosed  it  in  a  sheltering  way  ;  and  as  there  was 
an  abundance  of  drift-wood  along  the  shore,  it  offered  us  a  pleasant  en- 
campment. We  did  not  suffer  our  fragile  boat  to  touch  the  sharp  rocks; 
but,  getting  overboard,  discharged  the  baggage,  and,  lifting  it  gently  out 
of  the  water,  carried  it  to  the  upper  part  of  the  beach,  which  was  composed 
of  very  small  fragments  of  rock. 

Among  the  successive  banks  of  the  beach,  formed  by  the  action  of  the 
waves,  our  attention,  as  we  approached  the  island,  had  been  attracted  by 
one  ten  to  twenty  feet  in  breadth,  of  a  dark-brown  color.  Being  more 
closely  examined,  this  was  found  to  be  composed,  to  the  depth  of  seven  or 
cigiit,  and  twelve  inches,  entirely  of  the  larvce  of  insects,  or,  in  common 
language,  of  the  ;,kins  of  worms,  about  the  size  of  a  grain  of  oats,  which 
had  beei;  w.Tshed  up  by  the  waters  of  the  lake. 

Alludi'ig  to  this  subject  some  months  afterward,  when  travelling  through 
a  more  southern  portion  of  this  region  iii  company  with  Mr.  Joseph  Walker, 
an  old  hunter,  I  was  informed  by  him  that,  wandering  with  a  party  of  men 
in  a  mountain  country  cast  of  the  great  Californian  range,  he  surprised  a 
]jarty  of  several  Indian  families  encamped  near  a  small  salt  lake,  who  abaii- 
dont;d  their  lodg('-;  at  his  approach,  leaving  everything  behind  them.  Ik- 
ing in  a  starving  condition,  they  were  delighted  to  find  in  the  abandoned 
lodges  a  number  of  skin  bags,  containing  a  quantity  of  what  appeared  to 
be  fish,  dried  a".d  pounded.  On  this  they  made  a  hearty  supper :  and 
were  gathering  around  an  abundant  breakfast  the  next  morning,  when  Mr. 
Walker  discovered  that  it  was  with  these,  or  a  similar  worm,  that  the  baj^s 
liad  been  filled.  Th.c  stomachs  of  the  stout  trappers  were  not  proof  against 
their  prejudices,  :invi  the  repulsive  food  was  suddenly  rejected.  Mr.  Wal- 
ker had  further  opportunities  of  seeing  these  worms  used  as  an  article  of 
food;  and  I  am  inclined  to  think  they  are  the  same  as  those  we  saw,  and 
appear  to  be  a  product  of  the  salt  lakes. 

Mr.  Walker  was  associated  with  Captain  Bonneville  in  his  expedition 
to  the  Rocky  Mountains  ;  and  had  since  that  time  remained  in  the  country, 
generally  residing  in  some  one  of  the  Snake  villages,  when  not  engaged  in 
one  of  his  numerous  trapping  expeditions,  in  which  he  is  celebrated  as  onr 
of  the  best  and  bruvt^st  leaders  who  have  ever  been  in  the  country. 

The  cliffs  and  masses  of  rock  along  the  shore  were  whitened  by  an  in- 
crustation of  salt  where  the  waves  dashed  up  against  them  ;  and  the  evap- 
orating water,  which  had  been  h  tt  in  holes  and  hollows  on  the  surface  (! 
the  rocks  was  covered  with  a  crust  of  salt  about  one-c'ghth  of  an  inch  in 
thickness.  It  appeared  strange  that,  in  the  midst  of  this  yiand  reservoir, 
one  of  our  greatest  wants  lately  had  been  salt.     Exposed  to  be  n^ore  per- 


■?■'».  «V"»  MM^jh^     •'-"I    •'*■     % 


SCALS    I   Idui'OOO. 


.-HE  GREAT  SALT   LAKE. 


t: 


nmm 

15  i 


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"Ff"™  ■    '!Ti''^^T' 


ill 


■iile  to  tlu; 
-r  thirteen 

'''ililOIlt/,, 

'■■''takcii  for 


SJiCONn   KXPEDITION—DKIKD    WORMS  l-'OR   FOOD. 


I'ectlv  driecl  in  the  sun,  this  became  very  white  and  fine,  having  the  usual 
ilavor  of  very  excellent  common  salt,  without  any  foreign  taste  ;  but  only 
a  little  was  collected  for  present  use,  as  there  was  in  it  a  number  of  small 
black  insects. 

Carrying  with  us  the  barometer  and  other  instruments,  in  the  afternoon 
wc  ascended  to  the  highest  point  of  the  island  -a  bare  rocky  peak,  eight 
hundred  feet  above  the  lake.  .Standing  on  the  summit  we  enjoyed  an  ex- 
tended view  of  the  lake,  inclosed  in  a  basin  of  rugged  mountains,  which 
sometimes  left  marshy  flats  and  extensive  bottoms  between  them  and  the 
shore,  and  in  other  places  came  directly  down  into  the  water  with  bold  and 
precipitous  bluffs.  I'^ollowing  with  our  glasses  the  irregular  shores,  we 
searched  for  some  indications  of  a  communication  with  other  bodies  of 
water,  or  the  entrance  of  other  rivers  ;  but  the  distance  was  so  great  that 
we  could  make  out  nothing  with  certainty.  To  the  southward  several 
peninsular  mountains,  three  thousand  or  four  thousand  feet  high,  entered 
the  lake,  appearing,  so  far  as  the  distance  and  our  position  enabled  us  to 
letermine,  to  be  connected,  by  flats  and  low  ridges,  with  the  mountains  in 
the  rear. 

At  the  season  of  high  waters  in  the  spring,  it  is  probable  that  all  the 
marshes  and  low  grounds  are  overflowed,  and  the  surface  of  the  lake  con- 
siili  rahly  <;r(;ater.      In  several  jilaces  the  view  was  of  unlimited  extent — 
iierc  ant!  ih'jn;  a  rf)cky  islet  a[)pearing  above  the  water  at  a  great  dis- 
tance; and  beyond,  everything  was  vague  and  undefined.      .\s  we  looked 
over  the  vast   expanse    of  water    spread    out    beneath   us,   and  strained 
our  eyes  along  the  silent  shores  over  which  hung  so  nuich  doubt  and  un- 
rtainty,  and  which  were  so  fidl  of  interest  to  us,  I  could  hardly  repress 
rhe  almost  irresistible  desire  to  continue  our  exploration  ;   but  the  length- 
ming  snow  on  the  mountains  was  a  plain  indication  of  th(>  advancing  sea- 
son, and  our  frail  linen  boat  appeared  so  insecure  that  I  was  unwilling 
to  trust  our  lives  to  the  uncertainties  of  the  lake.      I   therefore  unwillingly 
resolved  to  tcrminatti  our  survey  here,  and  remain  satisfied  for  the  present 
with  what  we  had  been  able  to  add  to  the  unknown  geography  of  the  re- 
^i"n.    We  felt  pleasure  also  in  remembering  that  we  were   the  first  wdio, 
lii  the  traditionary  annals   of  the   country,    had    visited  the  islands,    and 
hroken,  with  the  cheerful  sound  of  hiunan  voices,  the  long  solitude  of  the 
';lace. 

I'rom  the  [)o'  it  where  we  were  standing,  the  ground  fell  off  on  every 
1' c  to  the  water,  giving  us  a  ])erfect  view  of  the  island,  which  is  twelve 
r  thirteen  miles  in  circumference,  being  simply  a  rocky  hill,  on  which 
-iCTf;  is  neither  water  nor  trees  of  any  kind  ;  idthough  at  a  distance  the 
nanoii/zd  vertnicularts,  which  was  in  great  abundance,  might  easily  be 
mistaken  for  woods.     The  plant  seemed  here  to  delight  in  a  congenial  air, 


hh 


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i  i 


i      '•  ■ ! 


^;  ;j: 


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fi  1     i  Br  I. 


! 


rr  ■  i. 


I 


1 

,!i 

■  I  '■ ; 

■  I      ■ 

■  <     ■  : 


:  i 


|;  ij  i|.i, 


234 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRAmONT. 


growing  in  extraordinary  luxuriance  seven  to  eight  feet  high,  and  was 
very  abundant  on  the  upper  parts  of  the  island,  where  it  was  almost  the 
only  plant.  This  is  eminently  a  saline  shrub  ;  its  leaves  have  a  ver\-  salt 
taste  ;  and  it  luxuriates  in  saline  soils,  where  it  is  usually  a  characteristic, 
It  is  widely  diffused  over  all  this  country.  A  chenopodiaceous  shriib, 
which  is  a  new  species  of  Obione  (O.  rigida,  Torr.  &  Frem.),  was  equally 
characteristic  of  the  lower  parts  of  the  island.  These  two  are  the  strikino 
plants  on  the  island,  and  belong  to  a  class  of  plants  which  form  a  promi- 
nent feature  in  the  vegetation  of  this  country.  On  the  lower  parts  of  the 
island  also  a  prickly  pear  of  very  large  size  was  frequent.  On  tiie  shore, 
near  the  water,  was  a  woolly  species  o{ phaca  •  and  a  new  species  of  um- 
belliferous plant  (yleptotcemia)  was  scattered  about  in  very  considerable 
abundance.  These  constituted  all  the  vegetation  that  now  appeared  upon 
the  island. 

I  accidentally  left  on  the  summit  the  brass  cover  to  the  object  end  of 
my  spy-glass  ;  and  as  it  will  probably  remain  there  undisturbed  by  In- 
dians, it  will  furnish  matter  of  speculation  to  some  future  traveller.  In  our 
excursions  about  the  island  we  did  not  meet  with  any  kind  of  animal ;  a 
magpie,  and  another  larger  bird,  probably  attracted  by  the  smoke  of  our 
fire,  paid  us  a  visit  from  the  shore,  and  were  the  only  living  things  seen 
during  our  stay.  The  rock  constituting  the  cliffs  along  the  shore  where 
we  were  encamped  is  a  talcous  rock  or  stealite,  with  brown  spar. 

At  sunset  the  temperature  was  70".  We  had  arrived  just  in  time  to 
obtain  a  meridian  altitude  of  the  sun,  and  other  observations  were  obtained 
this  evening,  which  place  our  camp  in  latitude  41°  10'  42",  and  longitude 
112"  21'  05"  from  Greenwich.  From  a  discussion  of  the  barometrical  ob' 
servations  made  during  our  stay  on  the  shores  of  the  lake,  we  have  adopted 
four  thousand  two  hundred  feet  for  its  elevation  above  the  Gulf  of  Me:  ico. 
In  the  first  disappointment  we  felt  from  the  dissipation  of  our  dream  of  me 
fertile  islands,  I  called  this  Disappointment  Island. 

Out  of  the  drift-wood  we  made  ourselves  pleasant  little  Indies,  open 
to  the  water,  and,  after  having  kindled  large  fires  to  excite  the  wonder  ot 
any  straggling  savage  on  the  lake  shores,  lay  down,  for  the  first  time  in  a 
long  journey,  in  perfect  security,  no  one  thinking  about  his  arms.  The 
evening  was  extremely  bright  and  pleasant ;  but  the  wind  rose  during  the 
night,  and  the  waves  began  to  break  heavily  on  the  shore,  making  oi:r 
island  tremble.  I  had  rot  expected  in  our  inland  journey  to  hear  the  roar 
of  an  ocean  surf;  and  the  strangeness  of  our  situation  and  tlie  excitement 
we  felt  in  the  associated  interests  of  the  place  made  this  one  of  the  most 
interesting  nights  I  remember  during  our  long  expedition. 

In  the  morning  the  surf  was  breaking  heavily  on  the  shore,  and  we 
were  up  early.     The  lake  was  dark  and  agitated,  and  we  hurried  through 


SECOND  EXPEDITION—DISAPPOINTMENT  ISLAND. 


235 


our  scanty  breakfast,  and  embarked — having  first  filled  one  of  the  buckets 
with  water  from  the  lake,  of  which  it  was  intended  to  make  salt.  The 
sun  had  risen  by  the  time  we  were  ready  to  start ;  and  it  was  blowing  a 
stronc  gale  of  wind,  almost  directly  off  the  shore,  and  raising  a  consider- 
able sea  in  which  our  boat  strained  very  much.  It  roughened  as  we  got 
away  from  the  island,  and  it  required  all  the  efforts  of  the  men  to  make 
any  head  against  the  wind  and  sea,  the  gale  rising  with  the  sun,  and  there 
was  danger  of  being  blown  into  one  of  the  open  reaches  beyond  the  island. 
At  the  distance  of  half  a  mile  from  the  beach  the  depth  of  water  was  six- 
teen feet,  with  a  clay  bottom ;  but  as  the  working  of  the  boat  was  very 
severe  labor  and  during  the  operation  of  sounding  it  was  necessary  to 
cease  paddling,  during  which  the  boat  lost  considerable  way,  I  was  unwill- 
ing to  discourage  the  men,  and  reluctantly  gave  up  my  intention  of  ascer- 
taining the  depth,  and  the  character  of  the  bed.  There  was  a  general 
shout  in  the  boat  when  we  found  ourselves  in  one  fathom,  and  we  soon 
after  landed  on  a  low  point  of  mud  immediately  under  the  butte  of  the 
peninsula,  where  we  unloaded  the  boat  and  carried  the  baggage  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  to  firmer  ground. 

We  arrived  just  in  time  for  meridian  observation,  and  carried  the 
barometer  to  the  sumiiiit  of  the  butte,  which  is  five  hundred  feet  above  the 
lake.  Mr.  Preuss  set  off  on  foot  for  the  camp,  which  was  about  nine  miles 
distant,  Basil  accompanying  him  to  bring  back  horses  for  the  boat  and 
baggage. 

The  rude-looking  shelter  we  raised  on  the  shore,  our  scattered  baggage, 
and  boat  lying  on  the  beach  made  quite  a  picture  ;  and  we  called  this  the 
Fisherman  s  camp.  Lynosiris  graveolcns,  and  another  new  species  of 
fiBioNE  {0.  confertifolia — Torr.  &  frem.),  were  growing  on  the  low 
T^rounds,  with  interspersed  spots  of  an  unwholesome  salt  grass,  on  a  saline 
clay  soil,  with  a  few  other  plants. 

The  horses  arrived  late  in  the  afternoon,  by  which  time  the  gale  had 
increased  to  such  a  height  that  a  man  could  scarcely  stand  before  it ;  and 
we  were  obliged  to  pack  our  baggage  hastily,  as  the  rising  water  of  the 
lake  had  already  reached  the  point  where  we  were  halted.  Looking  back 
as  we  rode  off,  we  found  the  place  of  recent  encampment  entirely  covered. 
The  low  plain  through  which  we  rode  to  the  camp  was  covered  with  a 
compact  growth  of  shrubs  of  extraordinary  size  and  luxuriance.  The  soil 
was  sandy  and  saline  ;  flat  places,  resembling  the  beds  of  ponds,  that  were 
bare  of  vegetation  and  covered  with  powdery  white  salts,  being  inter- 
spersed among  the  shrubs. 

Artemisia  tvidentata  was  very  abundant,  but  the  plants  were  principally 
saline;  a  large  and  vigorous  chenopodiaceous  shrub,  five  to  eight  feet  high, 
being  characteristic,  with   Fremontia  vcrviicularis,  and   a  shrubby  plant 


I! 


;;1  I 


,  ]'■ 


.(! 


'■^•1: 


r  H 


ArM 


t 


!'•    I- 


236  MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE—JOH.^  CHARLES  FREMONT. 

which  seems  to  be  a  new  salicornia.  We  reached  the  camp  in  time  to  es- 
cape a  thunder-storm  which  blackened  the  sky,  and  were  received  with  a 
discharge  of  the  howitzer  by  the  people,  who,  having  been  unable  to  see 
anything  of  us  on  the  lake,  had  begun  to  feel  some  uneasiness. 

September  wtJi. — Today  we  remained  at  this  camp,  in  order  to  obtain 
some  further  observations  and  to  boil  down  the  water  which  had  been 
brought  from  the  lake  for  a  supply  of  salt.  Roughly  evaporated  over  the 
fire,  the  five  gallons  of  water  yielded  fourteen  pints  of  very  fine-grained 
and  very  white  salt,  of  which  the  whole  lake  may  be  regarded  as  a  sat- 
urated solution.  K  portion  of  the  salt  thus  obtained  has  been  subjected  to 
analysis — giving,  in  one  hundred  parts,  the  following  proportions : 

Analysis  oi'  the  Salt. 

Chloride  of  sodium  (common  salt) 97.80 

Chloride  of  calcium 0.61 

Chloride  of  magnesia o.:4 

Sulphate  of  soda 0.23 

Sulphate  of  lime 1 . 1 : 

100.00 

A  small  stream  entering  the  Utah  Lake,  south  of  the  Spanish  Fork,  i.. 
the  first  water  of  that  lake  which  our  road  of  1844  crosses  in  coming  up 
from  the  southward. 

When  I  was  on  this  stream  with  ?vlr.  Walker  in  that  year  he  infornud 
me  that  on  the  upper  part  of  the  river  are  immense  beds  of  rock-salt  of 
very  great  thickness,  which  he  had  frequently  visited.  Farther  to  the 
southward  the  rivers  which  are  affluent  to  the  Colorado,  such  as  the  Rio 
V'irgen  and  Gila  River,  near  their  mouths  are  impregnated  with  salt  by 
the  cliffs  of  rock-salt  between  which  they  pass.  These  mines  occur  in  th'j 
same  ridge  in  which,  about  one  hmidred  and  twenty  miles  to  the  north- 
ward, and  subsequently  in  their  more  immediate  neighborhood,  we  di.s- 
covered  the  fossils  belonging  to  the  oolitic  period,  and  they  are  probably 
connected  with  that  formation,  and  are  the  source  from  which  the  Great 
Lake  obtains  its  salt.  Had  we  remained  longer,  we  should  have  found 
them  in  its  bed,  and  in  the  mountains  around  its  shores. 

By  observation  the  latitude  of  this  camp  is  41°  15'  50",  and  longitude 
1 1 2°  06'  43". 

The  observations  made  during  our  stay  give  for  the  rate  of  the  chro- 
nometer 3  I  ".72,  corresponding  almost  exactly  with  the  rate  obtained  at 
St.  Vrain's  Fort.  Barometrical  observations  were  made  hourly  during 
the  day.  This  morning  we  breakfasted  on  yampah,  and  had  only  kamas 
for  supper  ;  but  a  cup  of  good  coffee  still  distinguished  us  from  our  Dii^^ct 
acquaintances. 


SECOND   EXPEDITION— analysis;   OF  SALT  LAKE. 


237 


Seplcinbcr  xzUi. — The  morning  was  clear  and  calm,  with  a  temperature 
at  sunrise  of  33°.  We  resumed  our  journey  late  in  the  day,  returning  by 
nearly  the  same  route  which  we  had  travelled  in  coming  to  the  lake  ;  and, 
avoidini"  the  passage  of  Hawthorn  Creek,  struck  the  hills  a  little  below  the 
hot  salt  springs.  The  flat  plain  we  had  here  passed  over  consisted  alter- 
nately of  tolerably  good  sandy  soil  and  of  saline  plats. 

\Ve  encamped  early  on  Clear  Cr.-ek,  at  the  foot  of  the  high  ridge  ;  one 
of  the  peaks  of  which  we  ascertained  by  measurement  to  be  four  thousand 
two  hundred  and  ten  feet  above  the  lake,  or  about  eight  thousand  four 
hundred  feet  above  the  sea.  Behind  these  front  peaks  the  ridge  rises 
toward  the  Bear  River  Mountains,  which  are  probably  as  high  as  the  Wind 
River  chain.  This  creek  is  here  unusually  well  timbered  with  a  variety  of 
trees. 

Among  them  were  birch  {bctuUi),  the  narrow-leaved  poplar  {^Poptihts 
ancusti folia),  several  kinds  of  willow  {sul/'x),  hawthorn  {craicrj^us),  alder 
{Alniis  viridis),  and  ccrasus,  with  an  oak  allied  to  Qiicrciis  alba,  but  very 
distinct  from  that  of  any  other  species  in  the  United  States. 

We  had  to-night  a  supper  of  sea-gulls,  which  Carson  killed  near  the 
lake.  .Mthough  cool,  the  thermometer  standing  at  47",  mosquitoes  were 
sufficiendy  numerous  to  be  troublesome  this  evening. 

Scplember  13//^.- -Continuing  up  the  river  valley,  we  crossed  several 
small  streams  ;  the  mountains  on  the  right  appearing  to  consist  of  the  blue 
limestone  which  we  had  obser\ed  in  the  same  ridge  to  the  northward, 
alternaUng  hers  with  a  granular  quartz  already  mentioned.  One  of  these 
streams,  which  forms  a  smaller  lake  near  the  river,  was  broken  up  into  sev- 
eral channels  ;  and  the  irrigated  bottom  of  fertile  soil  was  covered  with  in- 
numerable flowers,  among  which  were  purple  fields  oi  Eupatorium  purpii- 
leim,  with  helianthi,  a  handsome  solidago  (.S".  Canadensis),  and  a  variety 
of  other  plants  in  bloom. 

Continuing  along  the  foot  of  the  hills,  in  the  afternoon  we  found  five  or 
six  hot  springs  gushing  out  together,  beneath  a  conglomerate,  consisting 
principally  of  fragments  of  a  grayish-blue  limestone,  efflorescing  a  salt  upon 
the  surface.  The  temperature  of  these  springs  was  134°,  and  the  rocks  in 
the  bed  were  colored  with  a  red  deposit,  ^.:  .  there  was  common  salt 
crystallized  on  the  margin.  There  was  also  a  white  incrustation  upon 
leaves  and  roots,  consisting  principally  of  carbonate  of  lime. 

There  were  rushes  seen  along  the  road  this  afternoon,  and  the  soil  under 
the  hills  was  very  black,  and  apparently  very  good;  but  at  this  time  the 
.;rass  is  entirely  dried  up. 

We  encamped  on  Bear  River,  immediately  below  a  cut-off,  the  caAon 
W  which  the  river  enters  this  valley  bearing  north  by  compass.  The  night 
was  mild,  with  a  very  clear  sky  ;  and  I  obtained  a  very  excellent  observa- 


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=38 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRp.MONT. 


tion  of  an  occultation  of  Tau'  Arietis,  with  other  observations.  Both  im- 
mersion and  emersion  of  the  star  were  observed  ;  but,  as  our  observa  ions 
have  shown,  the  phase  at  the  bright  Hmb  generally  gives  incorrect  loiKn. 
tudes,  and  we  have  adopted  the  result  obtained  from  the  emersion  at  the 
dark  limb,  without  allowing  any  weight  to  the  immersion.  According  to 
these  observations  the  longitude  is  112''  05'  12",  and  the  latitude  41' 4:' 
43.'  All  the  longitudes  on  the  line  of  our  outward  journey,  between  St. 
Vrain's  Fort  and  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia,  which  were  not  direcdy  de- 
termined by  satellites,  have  been  chronometrically  referred  to  this  place. 

The  people  to-day  were  rather  low-spirited,  hunger  making  them  very 
quiei  and  peaceable  ;  and  there  was  rarely  an  oath  to  be  heard  i:i  the  cr.nii) 
— not  even  a  solitary  enfant  dc  garcc.  It  was  time  for  the  men  with  an  ex- 
pected supply  of  provisions  from  Fitzpatrick  to  be  in  the  neighborhood ; 
and  the  gun  was  fired  at  evening  to  give  them  notice  of  our  localitv,  but 
met  with  no  response. 

Scplcmbcy  14///. — About  four  miles  from  this  encampment  the  trail  led 
us  down  to  the  river,  where  we  unexpectedly  found  an  excellent  ford— the 
.-^treain  being  widened  by  an  island,  and  not  yet  disengaged  from  the  hills 
at  the  foot  of  the  range.  We  encamped  on  a  little  creek  where  we  had 
made  a  noon  halt  in  descending  the  river.  The  night  was  very  clear  and 
pleasant,  the  sunset  temperature  being  67°. 

The  people  this  evening  looked  so  forlorn  that  I  gave  them  permission 
to  kill  a  fat  young  horse  which  I  had  purchased  with  goods  from  the  Snake 
Indians,  and  they  were  very  soon  restored  to  gayety  and  good  humor. 
Mr.  Preuss  and  myself  could  not  yet  overcome  some  remains  of  civilized 
prejudices,  and  preferred  to  starve  a  little  longer — feeling  as  much  saddened 
as  if  a  crime  had  been  committed. 

The  next  day  we  continued  up  the  valley,  the  soil  being  sometimes  very 
black  and  good,  occasionally  gravelly,  and  occasionally  a  kind  of  naked 
salt  plains. 

We  found  on  the  way  this  morning  a  small  encampment  of  two  families 
of  Snake  Indians,  from  whom  we  purchased  a  small  quantity  of  kooyah. 
They  had  piles  of  seeds,  of  three  difterent  kinds,  spread  out  upon  pieces  ot 
buffalo  robe  ;  and  the  squaws  had  just  gathered  about  a  bushel  of  the  roots 
of  a  thistle  {Circiu??i  I'irginianiim).  They  were  about  the  ordinary  size 
of  carrots,  and,  as  I  have  previously  mentioned,  are  sweet  and  well  flavored, 
requiring  only  a  long  preparation.  They  had  a  band  of  twelve  or  fifteeii 
horses,  and  appeared  to  be  growing  in  the  sunshine  with  about  as  littli' 
labor  as  the  ,)lants  they  were  eating. 

Shortly  afterward  we  met  an  Indian  on  horseback  who  had  killed  an 
antelope,  which  we  purchased  from  him  for  a  litde  powder  and  some  balls. 

We  crossed  the  Roseaux,  and  encamped  on  the  left  bank  ;  halting  early 


SECOND  EXPEDITION- MEET  MR.   FITZPATRICK. 


m 


for  the  pleasure  of  enjoying  a  wholesome  and  abundant  supper,  and  were 
pleasantly  engaged  in  protracting  our  unusual  comfort,  when  Tabeau  gal- 
loped into  the  camp  with  news  that  Mr.  Titzpatrick  was  encamped  close  by 
us  with  a  o-ood  supply  of  provisions — flour,  rice,  and  dried  meat,  and  even 
a  little  butter. 

Excitement  to-night  made  us  all  wakeful ;  and  after  a  breakfast  before 
-;unrise  the  next  morning,  we  were  again  on  the  road,  and,  continuing  up 
the  valley,  crossed  some  high  points  of  hills  and  halted  to  noon  on  the 
>amc  stream,  near  several  lodges  of  Snake  Indians,  from  whom  we  pur- 
chased about  a  bushel  of  service-berries,  partially  dried.  By  the  gift  of 
,1  knife  I  prevailed  upon  a  little  boy  to  show  me  the  kooyah  plant,  which 
'jroved  to  be  Valeriana  edulis.  The  root,  which  constitutes  the  kooyah,  is 
larci-e,  of  a  '/ery  bright  yellow  color,  with  the  characteristic  odor,  but  not  so 
fully  developed  as  in  the  prepared  substance.  It  loves  the  rich  moist  soil 
of  river  bottoms,  which  was  the  locality  in  which  I  always  afterward  found 
it.  It  was  now  entirely  out  of  bloom  ;  according  to  my  observation  flower- 
ing in  the  months  of  May  and  June. 

In  the  afternoon  we  entered  a  long  ravine  leading  to  a  pass  in  the  di- 
viJin"'  ridire  between  the  waters  of  Bear  River  and  the  Snake  River,  or 
Lewis'  Fork  of  the  Columbia ;  our  way  being  very  much  impeded,  and 
almost  entirely  blocked  up,  by  compact  fields  of  luxuriant  artemisia.  Tak- 
ing leave  at  this  point  of  the  waters  of  Bear  River,  and  of  the  geographical 
ijaiin  which  encloses  the  system  of  rivers  and  creeks  which  belong  to  the 
Great  Salt  Lake,  and  which  so  richly  deserves  a  future  detailed  and  ample 
i.xploration,  I  can  say  of  it,  in  general  terms,  that  the  bottoms  of  this  river 
(Bear)  and  of  some  of  the  creeks  which  I  saw,  form  a  natural  resting  and 
recruiting  stadon  for  travellers,  now,  and  in  all  time  to  come.  The  bottoms 
are  extensive,  water  excellent,  timber  sufficient,  the  soil  ^ood  and  well 
adapted  to  the  grains  and  grasses  suited  to  such  an  elevatdi  region. 

A  military  post  and  a  civilized  settlement  would  be  of  great  value  here  ; 
and  catde  and  horses  would  do  well  where  grass  and  salt  so  much  abound. 
The  lake  will  furnish  exhaustless  supplies  of  salt.  All  the  mountain 
sides  here  are  covered  with  a  valuable  nutritious  grass,  called  bunch  grass, 
:rom  the  form  in  which  it  grows,  which  has  a  second  growth  in  the  fall. 
The  beasts  of  the  Indians  were  fat  upon  it;  our  own  found  it  a  good  sub- 
Mstence ;  and  its  quantity  will  sustain  any  amount  of  cattle  and  make  this 
!"j1v  a  bucolic  region. 

■  o 

We  met  here  an  Indian  family  on  horseback,  which  had  been  out  to 
saiher  service-berries,  and  were  returning  loaded.  This  tree  was  scat- 
tered about  on  the  hills,  and  the  upper  part  of  the  pass  was  timbered  with 
s^pen  [Populus  trem.)  ;  the  common  blue  flowering  flax  occurring  among 

tilt:  rilants. 


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240 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


The  approach  to  the  pass  was  very  steep  ;  and  the  summit  about  six 
thousand  three  hundred  feet  above  the  sea — probably  only  an  uncertain  ap- 
proximation, as  at  the  time  of  observation  it  was  blowing  a  vioh  :u  f^ale  of 
wind  from  the  northwest,  with  cumuli  scattered  in  masses  over  the  sky 
the  day  otherwise  bright  and  clear. 

We  descended  by  a  steep  slope  into  a  broad  open  valley — good  soil— 
from  four  to  five  miles  wide;  coming  down  immediately  upon  one  of  the 
head-waters  of  the  Pannack  River,  which  here  loses  itself  in  s\vamij\ 
ground.  The  appearance  of  the  country  here  is  not  very  interesting.  On 
either  side  is  a  regular  range  of  mountains  of  the  usual  character,  with  a 
little  timber,  tolerably  rocky  on  the  right,  and  higher  and  more  smooth  on 
the  left,  with  still  higher  peaks  looking  out  above  the  range.  The  valle\ 
afforded  a  good  level  road  ;  but  it  was  late  when  it  brought  us  to  water, 
and  we  encamped  at  dark. 

The  northwest  wind  had  blown  up  very  cold  weather,  and  the  artemisia, 
which  was  our  fire-wood  to-night,  did  not  happen  to  be  very  abundant. 
This  plant  loves  a  dry,  sandy  soil,  and  cannot  grow  in  the  good  bottoms 
where  it  is  rich  and  moist ;  but  on  every  little  eminence,  where  water  does 
not  rest  long,  it  maintains  absolute  possession. 

Elevation  above  the  sea  about  five  thousand  one  hundred  feet. 

At  night  scattered  fires  glimmered  along  the  mountains,  pointing  out 
camps  of  the  Indians  ;  and  we  contrasted  the  comparative  security  in  which 
we  travelled  through  this  country  with  the  guarded  vigilance  we  were  com- 
pelled to  e.xert  among  the  Sioux  and  other  Indians  on  the  eastern  side  nl 
the  Rocky  Mountains. 

At  sunset  the  thermometer  was  at  50",  and  at  midnight  at  30°. 

September  i  "jth. — The  morning  sky  was  calm  and  clear,  the  temperature 
at  daylight  being  25°,  and  at  sunrise  2o\  There  is  throughout  this  moun- 
tain country  a  remarkable  difference  between  the  morning  and  inid-dav 
temperatures,  which  at  this  season  was  very  generally  40^  or  50°,  and  oc- 
casionally greater  ;  and  frequently,  after  a  very  frosty  morning,  the  heat  in 
a  few  hours  would  render  the  thinnest  clothing  agreeable. 

About  noon  we  reached  the  main  fork.  The  Pannack  River  was  be 
fore  us ;  the  valley  being  here  one  and  a  half  mile  wide,  fertile,  and  bor- 
dered by  smooth  hills,  not  over  five  hundred  feet  high,  partly  covered  with 
cedar  ;  a  high  ridge  in  which  there  is  a  prominent  peak  rising  behind 
those  on  the  left.  We  continued  to  descend  this  stream,  and  found  on  r. 
at  night  a  warm  and  comfortable  camp.  Flax  occurred  so  frequently  dur- 
ing the  day  as  to  be  almost  a  characteristic,  and  the  soil  appeared  excel- 
lent. The  opposite  hills  on  the  right  are  broken  here  into  a  great  variety 
of  shapes. 

The  evening  was  gusty,  with  a  temperature  at  sunset  of  59°.    I  ob- 


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SECOND    F.XPF.D/rWN—"  THREE   HUTTES." 


941 


tained,  about  midnight,  an  observation  of  an  emersion  of  the  first  satellite  ; 
the  ni'^ht  being  calm  and  very  clear,  the  stars  remarkably  bright,  and  the 
thermometer  at  30".  Longitude,  from  mean  of  satellite  and  chronometer, 
112  29'  52"  ;  and  latitude,  by  observation,  42 '  44'  40". 

Sc'^tcmber  iS//^    -The  day  clear  and  calm,  v.ith  a  temperature  of  25 
at  sunrise.     After  travelling     even    or   eight  miles   we  emerged  on  the 
plains  of  the  Columbia,  in  sight  o    the  famous  "  Three  Billies,"  a  well- 
known  landmark  in  the  country,  distant  about  forty-five  miles. 

The  French  word  hu/fc,  which  so  often  occurs  in  this  narrative,  is  re- 
tained from  the  familiar  language  of  the  country,  and  identifies  the  objects 
to  which  it  refers.  It  is  naturalized  in  the  region  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  ; 
and  even  if  desirable  to  render  it  in  English,  I  know  of  no  word  which 
would  be  its  precise  equivalent.  It  is  applied  to  the  detached  hills  and 
rido-es  which  rise  abruptly  and  reach  too  high  to  be  called  hills  or  ridges, 
and  not  high  enough  to  be  called  mountains.  Knob,  as  applied  in  the 
Western  States,  is  their  most  descriptive  term  in  English.  Cerro  is  the 
Spanish  term ;  but  no  translation  or  paraphrasis  would  preserve  the 
identity  of  these  picturesque  landmarks,  familiar  to  the  traveller,  and  often 
seen  at  a  great  distance. 

Covered  as  far  as  could  be  seen  with  artemisia,  the  dark  and  ugly  ap- 
pearance of  this  plain  obtained  for  it  the  name  of  the  Sas^e  Desert ;  and  we 
were  agreeably  surprised  on  reaching  the  Portneuf  River  to  see  a  beau- 
tiful green  valley  with  scattered  timber  spread  out  beneath  us  on  which, 
about  four  miles  distant,  were  glistening  the  white  walls  of  the  fort.  The 
Portneuf  runs  along  the  upland  plain  nearly  to  its  mouth,  and  an  abrupt 
descent  of  perhaps  two  hundred  feet  brought  us  down  immediately  upon 
the  stream,  which  at  the  ford  is  one  hundred  yards  wide  and  three  feet 
deep,  with  clear  water,  a  swift  current,  and  gravelly  bed  ;  but  a  little 
higher  up  the  breadth  was  only  about  thirty-five  yards,  with  apparently 
deep  water. 

In  the  bottom  I  remarked  a  very  great  numL°r  of  springs  and  sloughs, 
with  remarkably  clear  water  and  gravel  beds.  At  sunset  we  encamped 
with  Mr.  Talbot  and  our  friends  who  came  on  to  Fort  Hall  when  we  went 
to  the  lake,  and  whom  we  had  the  satisfaction  to  fin  \  all  well,  neither  party 
having  met  with  any  mischance  in  the  interval  of  Oi'.r  separation.  They, 
ton,  had  had  their  share  of  fatigue  and  scanty  provisions,  as  there  had 
been  very  little  game  left  on  the  trail  of  the  populous  emigration  ;  and  Mr. 
Fitzpatrick  had  rigidly  husbanded  our  stock  of  flour  and  light  provisions, 
in  view  of  the  approaching  winter  and  the  long  journey  before  us. 

September  19///. — This  morning  the  sky  was  very  dark  and  gloomy, 
and  at  daylight  it  began  snowing  thickly,  and  continued  all  day,  with  cold, 
disagreeable  weather.     At  sunrise  the  temperature  was  43^.     I  rode  up  to 


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242 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


the  fort,  and  purchased  from  Mr.  Grant  (the  officer  in  charge  of  the  post) 
several  very  indifferent  horses,  and  five  oxen  in  very  fine  order,  wiijch 
were  received  at  the  camp  with  great  satisfaction  ;  and  one  being  killed  at 
evening,  the  usual  gayety  and  good  humor  were  at  once  restored.  Xight 
came  in  stormy. 

September  20th.  -We  had  a  night  of  snow  and  rain,  and  the  ther- 
mometer at  sunrise  was  at  34°;  the  morning  was  dark,  with  a  steady  rain, 
and  there  was  still  an  incli  of  snow  on  the  ground,  with  an  abundance  on 
the  neighboring  hills  and  mountains.  The  sudden  change  in  the  weather 
was  hard  for  our  animals,  which  trembled  and  shivered  in  the  cold-  -some- 
times taking  refuge  in  the  Umber,  and  now  and  then  coming  out  and  rakincr 
the  snow  off  the  ground  for  a  little  grass,  or  eating  the  young  willuws, 

September  2\st. — Ice  made  tolerably  thick  during  the  night,  and  in  the 
morning  the  weather  cleared  up  very  bright,  with  a  temperature  at  sunrise 
of  29" ;  and  I  obtained  a  meridian  observation  for  latitude  at  the  fort,  with 
observations  for  time.  The  sky  was  again  covered  in  the  afternoon,  and 
the  thermometer  at  sunset  48". 

September  22d. — The  morning  was  cloudy  and  unpleasant,  and  at  sun- 
rise a  cold  rain  commenced,  with  a  temperature  of  41". 

The  early  approach  of  winter  and  the  difficulty  of  supporting  a  larj^n: 
party  determined  me  to  send  back  a  number  of  the  men  who  had  become 
satisfied  that  they  were  not  fitted  for  the  laborious  service  and  frequent 
privation  to  which  they  were  necessarily  exposed,  and  which  there  was 
reason  to  believe  would  become  more  severe  in  the  further  extension  of 
the  voyage.  1  accordingly  culled  them  together,  and,  informing  them  of 
my  intention  to  continue  our  journey  during  the  ensuing  winter,  in  the 
course  of  whicii  they  would  probably  be  exposed  to  considerable  hardship, 
succeeded  in  prevailing  upon  a  number  of  them  to  return  voluntarily. 
These  were  :  Charles  De  Forrest,  Henry  Lee,  J.  Campbell,  William  Creuss, 
A.  Vasquez,  X.  Pera,  Patrick  White,  H.  Tesson,  M.  Creely,  Fran9ois  La- 
jeunesse,  Basil  Lajmrnesse. 

Among  these  I  regretted  very  much  to  lose  Uasil  Lajeunesse,  one  of 
the  best  men  in  my  party,  who  was  obliged,  by  the  conditioi^of  his  family, 
to  be  at  home  in  the  coming  winter.  Our  preparations  having  been  com- 
pleted in  the  interval  of  our  stay  here,  both  parties  were  ready  this  morn- 
ing to  resume  their  respective  routes. 

Except  that  there  is  a  greater  quantity  of  wood  used  in  its  construction, 
Fort  Hall  very  much  resembles  the  other  trading-posts  which  have  been 
already  describ(;d,  and  would  be  another  excellent  post  of  relief  for  the 
emigrant.  It  is  in  the  low,  rich  bottom  of  the  valley,  apparendy  twenty 
miles  long,  formed  by  the  confluence  of  Portneuf  River  with  Lewis'  Fori 
of  the   Columbia,   which   it  enters  about  nine  miles  below  the  fort,  and 


f     i 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— SNOW,    FROST,    AND  HARDSHIPS.        243 

narrowing  gradually  to  the  mouth  of  the  Pannack  River,  where  it  has  a 
breadth  of  only  two  or  three  miles.  Allowing  fifty  miles  for  the  road  from 
the  Beer  Springs  of  Bear  River  to  Fort  Hall,  its  distance  along  the  trav- 
elled xo^^<S.  from  the  town  of  Westport,  on  the  frontier  of  Missouri,  by  way 
of  Fort  Laramie  and  the  great  South  Pass,  i^i  one  thousand  three  hundred 
and  twenty  three  miles.  Beyond  this  place,  on  the  line  of  road  along  the 
barren  valley  of  the  Upper  Columbia,  there  does  not  occur,  for  a  distance 
of  nearly  three  hundred  miles  to  the  westward,  a  fertile  spot  of  ground  suf- 
ficiendv  large  to  produce  the  necessary  quantity  of  grain,  or  pasturage 
enough  to  allow  even  a  temporary  repose  to  the  emigrants. 

On  their  recent  passage  they  had  been  able  to  obtain,  at  ver)-  high 
prices  and  in  insufficient  quantity,  only  such  assistance  as  could  be  afforded 
bv  a  small  and  remote  trading-post — and  that  a  foreign  one — which,  in  the 
supply  of  its  own  wants,  had  necessarily  drawn  around  it  some  of  the  re- 
sources of  civilization,  but  which  obtained  nearly  all  its  supplies  from  the 
distant  depot  of  \'^ancouver,  by  a  difficult  water-carriage  of  two  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  up  the  Columbia  River  and  a  land-carriage  by  pack-horses 
of  six  hundred  miles. 

An  American  military  post  sufficiently  strong  to  give  to  their  road  a 
perfect  security  against  the  Indian  tribes,  who  are  unsettled  in  locality  and 
verv  uncertain  in  their  disposition,  and  which,  with  the  necessary  facilities 
for  the  repair  of  their  equipage,  would  be  able  to  afford  them  relief  in  stock 
and  grain  from  the  produce  of  the  post,  would  be  of  extraordinary  value  to 
the  emigration.  Such  a  post  (and  all  others  which  may  be  established  on 
the  hne  to  Oregon)  would  naturally  form  the  nucleus  of  a  settlement  at 
which  supplies  and  repose  would  be  obtained  by  the  emigrant  or  trading 
caravans  which  may  hereafter  traverse  these  elevated  and,  in  many  places, 
desolate  and  inhospitable  regions. 

I  subjoin  an  analysis  of  the  soil  in  the  river  bottom  near  Fort  Hall, 
which  will  be  of  assistance  in  forming  some  correct  idea  of  its  general  char- 
acter in  the  neighboring  country.  I  characterize  it  as  good  land,  but  the 
analysis  will  show  its  precise  properties. 


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Analysis  ok  Soil. 

Silica 68.55 

Alumina 7.45 

Ciulionate  of  lime 8.51 

Cirbonatf  of  magnesia 5.09 

Oxide  of  iron 1.40 

OriMnic  vc.;etable  matter 4.74 

Water  and  loss 4.26 

100.00 


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244  MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 

Our  observations  place  this  post  in  longitude  112°  29'  54',  latitude  4; 
01'  30",  and  in  elevation  above  the  sea  four  thousand  five  hundred  feet. 

Taking  leave  of  the  homeward  part)',  we  resumed  our  journey  down 
the  valley,  the  weather  being  very  cold  and  the  rain  coming  in  hard  ousts 
which  the  wind  blew  directly  in  our  faces.  We  forded  the  Portneuf  in  a 
storm  of  rain,  the  water  in  the  river  being  frequently  up  to  the  axles,  and 
about  one  hundred  and  ten  yards  wide. 

After  the  gust  the  weather  improved  a  little,  and  we  encamped  abui;; 
three  miles  below,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Pannack  River,  on  Lewis'  Fork, 
which  here  has  a  breadth  of  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  yards.  The 
temperature  at  sunset  was  42° ;  the  sky  partially  covered  with  dark,  rainv 
clouds. 

Scptc))ibcr  22,d. — The  temperature  at  sunrise  was  ;;2'\  the  morning- dark 
and  snow  falling  steadily  and  thickly,  with  a  light  air  from  t(U'  southward. 
I  profited  of  being  obliged  to  remain  in  camp  to  take  hourly  baroinetn'rpi 
observations  from  sunrise  to  midnight.  The  wind  at  eleven  o'clock  set  in 
from  the  northward  in  heavy  gusts,  and  the  snow  changed  into  rain.  In 
the  ^fternoo.:,  when  the  sky  brightened,  the  rain  had  washed  all  the  snow 
from  the  bottoms  ;  but  the  neighboring  mountains,  from  summit  to  foot, 
were  luminou.sly  white  -  an  inauspicious  commencement  of  the  autumn,  0! 
which  this  was  the  first  day. 

Scptcuibcr  i^i/i. — The  thermometer  at  sunrise  was  at  35"  and  a  blue 
sky  in  the  west  promised  a  fine  day.  The  river  bottoms  here  are  narrow 
and  swampy,  with  frequent  sloughs ;  and  after  crossmg  the  Pannack  the 
road  continued  along  the  uplands,  rendered  very  slippery  by  the  soil  of  wet 
clay,  and  entirely  covered  with  artemisia  bushes,  among  which  occur  fre- 
quent fragments  of  obsidian. 

At  noon  we  encamped  in  a  grove  of  willows,  at  the  upper  endofa,L:roii[' 
of  islands,  about  half  a  mile  above  tlic  American  Falls  of  Snake  River. 
Among  the  willows  here  were  some  bushes  of  Lewis  and  Clarke's  currant 
{RUhs  aurcuin).  The  river  hen.'  enters  between  low  mural  banks,  which 
consist  of  a  fine  vesicular  trap-rock,  the  intermediate  portions  hcini,^  com- 
pact and  crystalline.  Gradually  becoming  higher  in  its  downward  course, 
these  banks  of  scoriated  volcanic  rock  form,  with  occasional  interruptions, 
its  characteristic  feature  along  the  whole  line  to  the  Dalles  of  the  Lower 
Columbia,  resembling  a  chasm  which  liad  been  rent  through  the  country 
and  which  the  river  had  afterward  taken  for  its  bed.  The  inunediatc  vall-y 
of  the  river  is  a  high  pla-n,  covered  with  black  rocks  and  arteniisias. 

In  the  south  is  a  bordering  range  of  mountains  which,  althou,£;h  not 
very  high,  are  broken  and  covered  with  snow;  and  at  a  great  distance  tn 
the  north  is  seen  the  high,  snowy  line  of  the  Salmon  River  Mountains,  in 
front  of  which  stand  out  prominently  in  the  plain  the  three  isolated  rugi^cu- 


Sil'.OND  EXPEDITION— VOLCANIC   ROCK  FORMATION. 


245 


lookini{  little  mountains  commonly  known  as  the  Three  Buttes.  Between 
the  river  and  the  distant  Salmon  River  range  the  plain  is  represented  by 
Mr.  Fitzpatrick  as  so  entirely  broken  up  and  rent  into  chasms  as  to  be  im- 
practicable even  for  a  man  on  foot.  By  measurement  the  river  above  is 
cio-ht  hundred  and  seventy  feet  wide,  immediately  contracted  at  the  fall  in 
the  form  of  a  lock,  by  jutting  piles  of  scoriaceous  basalt,  over  wdiich  the 
foamin*''  river  must  present  a  grand  appearance  at  the  time  of  high  water. 
The  evening  was  clear  and  pleasant,  with  dew  ;  and  at  sunset  the  tem- 
peiaure  was  54°.  By  observation  the  latitude  is  ^2"  47'  05",  and  the 
longitude  112°  40'  13". 

September  2^th. — Thermometer  at  sunrise  47".  The  day  came  in  clear, 
with  a  strong  gale  from  the  south,  which  commenced  at  eleven  of  the  last 

iii,;fht. 

The  road  to-day  led  along  the  river,  which  is  full  of  rapids  and  small 
lulls,  Grass  is  very  scanty ;  and  along  the  rugged  banks  are  scattered 
cedars,  with  an  abundance  of  rocks  and  sage.  We  travelled  fourteen 
miles  and  encamped  in  the  afternoon  near  the  river,  on  a  rocky  creek,  the 
bed  of  which  was  entirely  occupied  with  bowlders  of  a  very  large  size. 
lor  the  last  three  or  four  miles  the  right  bank  of  the  river  has  a  palisaded 
appearance.  One  of  the  oxen  was  killed  here  for  food.  The  thermome- 
ter at  evening  was  at  55",  the  sky  almost  overcast,  and  the  barometer  in- 
dicated an  elevation  of  four  thousand  four  hundred  feet. 

September  26th. — Rain  during  the  night,  and  the  temperature  at  sun- 
rise 42.  Travelling  along  the  river,  in  about  four  miles  we  reached  a 
picturesque  stream  to  which  we  gave  the  name  of  Fall  Creek.  It  is  re- 
markable for  the  many  falls  which  occur  in  a  short  distance ;  and  its  bed  is 
composed  of  a  calcareous  tufa,  or  vegetable  rock,  composed  principally  of 
the  remains  of  reeds  and  mosses,  resembling  that  at  the  Basin  Spring  on 
Bear  River. 

The  road  along  the  river  bluffs  had  been  occasionally  very  bad  ;  and 
Imagining  that  some  rough  obstacles  rendered  such  a  detour  necessary,  we 
tollowed  for  several  miles  a  plain  wagon  road  leading  up  this  stream  until 
AC  reached  a  point  whence  it  could  be  seen  making  directly  toward  a  low 
[ilace  ill  the  range  on  the  south  side  of  the  valley,  and  we  became  imme- 
diately aware  that  we  were  on  a  trail  formed  by  a  party  of  wagons,  in 
company  with  which  we  had  encamped  at  lilm  Grove,  near  the  frontier  of 
Missouri,  and  which  were  proceeding  to  l'p[)er  California  under  the  dircjc- 
tion  of  Mr.  Jos.  Childs.  At  the  time  of  their  departure,  no  practicahlt- 
passes  were  known  in  the  Southern  Rocky  Mountains  within  the  territory 
"I  the  United  States  ;  and  the  probable  apijrfhcnsioii  of  difficulty  in  at- 
iniipting  to  pass  near  the  settled  frontier  of  New  Mexico,  together  with 
t;n:  desert  character  of  the  unexplored  region  beyond,  had  induced  them 


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MEMOIR."^  OF  MY  LIFF—JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


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to  take  a  more  northern  and  circuitous  route  by  way  of  the  Sweet  Water 
Pass  and  Fort  Hall.  They  had  still  between  them  and  the  Valley  of  the 
Sacramento  a  great  mass  of  mountains,  forming-  the  Sierra  Nevada,  here 
commonly  known  as  the  Great  California  Mountain,  and  which  were  at 
this  time  considered  as  presenting  an  impracticable  barrier  to  wheeled 
carriages. 

Various  considerations  had  suggested  to  them  a  division  of  the  party ; 
and  a  greater  portion  of  the  camp,  including  the  wagons  with  the  mill 
and  other  stores,  were  now  proceeding  under  the  guidance  of  Mr.  Joseph 
Walker,  who  had  engaged  to  conduct  them,  by  a  long  sweep  to  the  south- 
ward, around  what  is  called  the  point  of  the  mountaiti  •  and,  crossin' 
through  a  pass  known  only  to  himself,  gain  the  banks  of  the  Sacramento 
by  the  Valley  of  the  San  Joaquin.  It  was  a  long  and  hazardous  journev 
for  a  party  in  which  there  were  women  and  children.  Sixty  days  was  the 
shortest  period  of  time  in  which  they  could  reach  the  point  of  the  moun- 
tain, and  their  route  lay  through  a  country  inhabited  by  wild  and  badly 
disposed  Indians  and  very  poor  in  game  ;  but  the  leader  was  a  man  pos- 
sessing great  and  intimate  knowledge  of  the  Indians,  with  an  extraordi- 
nary firmness  and  dr  "ision  of  character. 

In  the  meantime  Mr.  Childs  had  passed  down  the  Columbia  with  a 
party  of  ten  or  twelve  men,  with  the  intention  of  reaching  the  settlements 
on  the  Sacramento  by  a  more  direct  course  which  indefinite  information 
from  hunters  had  indicated  in  the  direction  of  the  head-waters  of  the  Rhicn 
aux  Malheurs  ;  and,  having  obtained  there  a  re-enforcement  of  animals  and 
a  supply  of  provisions,  meet  the  wagons,  before  they  should  have  reached 
the  point  of  the  mountain,  at  a  place  which  had  been  previously  agreed 
upon.  In  the  course  of  our  narrative  we  shall  be  able  to  give  some  in- 
formation of  the  fortune  which  attended  the  movements  of  these  adven- 
turous travellers. 

Having  discovered  our  error,  we  immediately  regained  the  line  along 
the  river,  which  the  road  quitted  about  noon,  and  encamped  at  five  o'clock 
on  a  stream  called  Raft  River  {Riviere  aux  Cajcux),  having-  travelled 
only  thirteen  miles.  In  the  north,  the  Salmon  River  Mountains  are  visi- 
ble at  a  very  far  distance  ;  and  on  the  left,  the  ridge  in  which  Raft  River 
heads  is  about  twenty  miles  distant,  rocky,  and  tolerably  high.  Ther- 
mometer at  sunset  44°,  with  a  partially  clouded  sky,  and  a  sharp  wind 
from  the  southwest. 

September  2'jt/i. — It  was  now  no  longer  possible,  as  in  our  previous 
journey,  to  travel  regularly  every  day  and  find  at  any  moment  a  conven- 
ient place  for  repose  at  noon,  or  a  camp  at  night;  but  the  halting-places 
were  now  generally  fixed  along  the  road,  by  the  nature  of  the  country,  at 
places  where,  with  water,  there  was  a  little  scanty  grass. 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— RIVlkRE  AUX  CAJEUX. 


247 


Since  leaving  the  American  Falls  the  road  had  frequently  been  very 
bad;  the  many  short,  sleep  ascents  exhausting  the  strength  of  our  worn- 
out  animals,  requiring  always  at  such  places  the  assistance  of  the  men  to 
get  up  each  cart,  one  by  one  ;  and  our  progress  with  twelve  or  fourteen 
wheeled  carriages,  though  light  and  made  for  the  purpose,  in  such  a  rocky 
country  was  extremely  slow  ;  and  I  again  determined  to  gain  time  by  a 
division  of  the  camp.  Accordingly,  to-day  the  parties  again  separated, 
constituted  very  much  as  before — Mr.  Fitzpatrick  remaining  in  charge  of 
the  heavier  baggage. 

The  morning  was  calm  and  clear,  with  a  white  frost,  and  the  tempera- 
ture at  sunrise  24°. 

To-day  the  country  had  a  very  forbidding  appearance  ;  and  after  trav 
ellinff  twenty  miles  over  a  slightly  undulating  plain,  we  encamped  at  a  con- 
siderable spring,  called  Swamp  Creek,  rising  in  low  grounds  near  the  point 
of  a  spur  from  the  mountain. 

Returning  with  a  small  party  in  a  starving  condition  from  the  westward 
twelve  or  fourteen  years  since,  Carson  had  met  here  three  or  four  buffalo 
bulls,  two  of  which  were  killed.  They  were  among  the  pioneers  which 
had  made  tlic  experiment  of  colonizing  in  the  Valley  of  the  Columbia,  and 
which  had  failed,  as  heretofore  stated. 

At  sunset  the  thermometer  was  at  46^,  and  the  evening  was  overcast, 
h  a  cold  wind  from  the  southeast,  and  to-night  we  had  only  sage  for 
fire-wood.     Mingled  with  the  artemisia  was  a  shrubby  and  thorny  cheno- 
podiaceous  plant. 

September  28///. — Thermometer  at  sunrise  40°.  The  wind  rose  early 
to  a  orale  from  the  vest,  with  a  very  cold,  driving  rain  ;  and  after  an  un- 
comfortable day's  ride  of  twenty-five  miles  we  were  glad  when  at  evening 
we  found  a  sheltered  camp,  where  there  was  an  abundance  of  wood,  at 
some  elevated  rocky  islands  covered  with  cedar,  near  the  commencement 
ot  another  long  canon  of  the  river. 

With  the  exception  of  a  short  detention  at  a  deep  little  stream  called 
Goose  Creek,  and  some  occasional  rocky  places,  we  had  to-day  a  very 
s;ood  road ;  but  the  country  has  a  barren  appearance,  sandy,  and  densely 
covered  uiJi  the  artemisias  from  the  banks  of  the  river  to  the  foot  of  the 
mountains. 

Here  I  remarked  among  the  sage-bushes,  green  bunches  of  what  is 
called  the  second  growth  of  grass.  The  river  to-day  has  had  a  smooth 
appearance,  free  from  rapids,  with  a  low,  sandy  hill-slope  bordering  the 
bottoms,  in  which  there  is  a  little  good  soil.  Thermometer  at  sunset  45', 
blowing  a  gale,  and  disagreeably  cold. 

September  29M. — The  thermometer  at  sunrise  36°,  with  a  bright  sun, 
and  appearance  of  finer  weather. 


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248 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


The  road  for  several  miles  was  extremely  rocky,  and  consequently  bad ; 
but  entering  after  this  a  sandy  country  it  became  very  good,  with  no 
other  interruption  than  the  sage-bushes  which  covered  the  river  plain  so 
far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  and,  with  their  uniform  tint  of  dark  gray,  gave 
to  the  country  a  gloomy  and  sombre  appearance.  All  the  day  the  course 
of  the  river  has  been  between  walls  of  the  black  volcanic  rock,  a  dark  line 
of  the  escarpment  on  the  opposite  side  pointing  out  its  course,  and  sweep- 
ing along  in  foam  at  places  where  the  mountains  which  border  the  valley- 
present  always  on  the  left  two  ranges,  the  lower  one  a  spur  of  the  hi<rher ; 
and,  on  the  opposite  side,  the  Salmon  River  Mountains  are  visible  at  a 
great  distance.  Having  made  twenty-four  miles,  we  encamped  about  five 
o'clock  on  Rock  Creek ;  a  stream  having  considerable  water,  a  swift  cur- 
rent, and  wooded  with  willow. 

September  loth.  -  -Thermometer  at  sunrise,  28 '.  In  its  progress  toward 
the  river  this  creek  soon  enters-  a  chasm  of  the  volcanic  rock,  which  in 
places  along  the  wall  presents  a  columnar  appearance ;  and  the  road  be- 
comes extremely  rocky  whenever  it  passes  near  its  banks.  It  is  only  about 
twenty  feet  .vide  where  the  road  crosses  it,  with  a  deep  bed  and  steep 
banks,  covered  with  rocky  fragments,  with  willows  and  a  little  grass  on  it^ 
narrow  bottom.  The  soil  appears  to  be  full  of  calcareous  matter,  with 
which  the  rocks  are  incrusted.  The  fragments  of  rock  which  had  beeii 
removed  by  the  emigrants  in  making  a  road  where  we  ascended  from  the 
bed  of  this  creek  were  whitened  with  lime  ;  and  during  the  afternoon  ^ 
mc^rch  I  remarked  in  the  soil  a  considerable  quantity  of  calcareous  con- 
cretions. 

Toward  evening  the  sages  became  more  sparse,  and  the  clear  spaces 
were  occupied  by  tufts  of  green  grass.  The  river  still  continued  its  course 
through  a  trough  or  open  cafion  ;  and  toward  sunset  we  followed  the  trail 
of  several  wagons  which  had  turned  in  toward  Snake  River,  and  encamped, 
as  they  had  done,  on  the  top  of  the  escarpment.  There  was  no  grass  here, 
the  soil  among  the  sage  being  entirely  naked  ;  but  there  is  occasionally  a 
little  bottom  along  the  river,  which  a  short  ravine  of  rocks  at  rare  intervals 
leaves  accessible  ;  and  by  one  of  these  we  drove  our  animals  down  and 
found  some  tolerably  good  grass  bordering  the  water. 

Immediately  opposite  to  us  a  subterranean  river  bursts  out  direcdy 
from  the  face  of  the  escarpment,  and  falls  in  white  foam  to  the  river  below. 
The  accompanying  view  gives  a  sketch  of  this  remarkable  fall,  with  a  rep- 
resentation of  the  mural  precipices  which  enclose  the  main  river  and  form 
its  characteristic  feature  along  a  great  portion  of  its  course.  A  melancholy 
and  strange-looking  country — one  of  fracture,  and  violence,  and  fire. 

We  had  brought  with  us,  when  we  separated  from  the  camp,  a  large 
gaunt  ox,  in  appearance  very  poor  ;  but,  being  killed  to-night,  to  the  great 


\i  ■'! 


1; 

no 

so 

.ve 

rse 

ine 

ep- 

lley 

ler ; 

It  a 

five 

cur- 

,vard 

:h  ir, 
Ibe- 
ibjut 

StC(--[l 

an  it^ 
with 
.  bccu 
im  thi: 
icon':- 
con- 


jacc> 
;oursf 
trail 
mped, 
lert-', 
illy  a 
ervaU 
11  and 

ircctly 
jelow. 
a  i-ep- 
1  form 
icliolv 


large 
freat 


s/-:co.yn  EXPEnirrox—A  mf.i.anchoi.y-lookixg  colwtry.    249 

jov  of  the  people,  he  was  found  to  be  remarkably  fat.  As  usual  at  such  oc- 
currences the  evening  was  devoted  to  gayety  and  feasting  ;  abundant  fare 
now  made  an  epoch  among  us;  and  in  this  laborious  life,  in  such  a  country 
as  this,  our  men  had  but  little  else  to  enjoy. 

The  temperature  at  sunset  was  65',  with  a  clear  sky  and  very  high  wind. 
liv  the  observadon  of  the  evening  the  encampment  was  in  longitude  114° 
25  04",  and  in  latitude  42"  38'  44". 

October  is/. — The  morning  clear,  with  wind  from  the  west,  and  the  ther- 
inoinL'ter  ;U  55'.  We  descended  to  the  bottom,  taking  with  us  the  boat, 
for  the  purpose  of  visiting  the  fall  in  the  opposite  cliffs  ;  and  while  it  was 
lifiiKT  iillctl  with  air  we  occupied  ourselves  in  measuring  the  river,  which 
i>  one  thousand  seven  hundred  and  eighty-six  feet  in  breadth,  with  banks 
uvo  hundred  feet  high.  We  were  surprised,  on  our  arrival  at  the  opposite 
side,  to  find  a  beautiful  basin  of  clear  water,  formed  by  the  falling  river, 
around  which  the  rocks  were  whitened  by  some  saline  incrustation.  Here 
the  Indians  had  constructed  wicker  dams,  although  I  was  informed  that 
the  salmon  do  not  ascend  the  river  so  far ;  and  its  character  below  would 
ainiarentlv  render  it  impracticable. 

The  accent  of  the   stee[)    hill-side  was  rendered  a  little   difficult  by  a 

iii^e  growth  of  shrubs  and  fields  of  cane  ;  and  there  were  frequent  hidden 

revices  among  the  rocks,  where  the  water  was  heard  rushing  below  ;  but 

V.I-  succeeded  in  reaching  the   main   stream,  which,  issuing  from  between 

^;rata  of  the  trap-rock  in  two  principal  branches,  produced  almost  imme- 

'iiatcly  a  torrent  twenty-two  feet  wide  and  white  with  foam.      It  is  a  pict- 

,;r(:s(iue  spot  of  singular  beauty,  overshaded  l)y  l)ushes,  from  under  which 

■he  torrent  glances,  tumbling  into  the  white  basin  below,  where  the  clear 

water  contrasted  beautifully  with  the  muddy  stream  of  the  river      Its  outlet 

was  covered  with  a  rank  growth  of  canc-s,  and  a  \ariet\'  of  unusual  plants, 

..nd  nettles   {//y/ira  caiiadina),  which,  before   they  were    noticed,  had  set 

'ii:r  hands  and  arms  on  fire.      The  temi)erature  of  the  spring  was  58',  while 

'.nat  of  the  river  was  51  .      The  perpendicular  height  of  the  place  at  which 

I. ViS  stream  issues  is  forty-five  fee-t  above   tlu;  river,  and  one  hundred  and 

"'.'y-two  feet  below   the  sununit  i^i  llie   precipice,  makiiig  nearly  two  hun- 

'.ri:d  tei't  ti)r  liie  h(;ight  of  the  wall.     On  the  hill-sitle  liere    was  obtained 

■'[li.ciniens  consisting  principally  of  fragments   of  the   shells  of  small  crus- 

-icea,  and  which  was  probably  formed  by  deposition  from    these    springs 

. '"'Xueding  from  some  lake  or  river  in  the  highlands  above. 

Aeresumetl  our  journey  at  noon,  the  day  being  hot  and  bright;   and, 
■1  ■'■  a  march  of  seventeen  miles,  encamped  at  sunset  on    the  river,  near 
^'vcral  lodges  of  Snake  Indians. 

Our  encampment  was  about  one  mile  below  the  fishing  Falls,  a  series 
^!  cataracts  with  very  inclined  planes,  which  are  probablv  so  named  because 


^.  % 


m 


If  ?':fr 


;i-' 


\i  ,'•'• 


! 


250 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  IJF/-:—/0/fX  CffARLES  F R  E M O X T. 


they  form  a  barrier  to  the  asci^nt  of  the  sahnon  ;  and  the  great  fisheries 
from  which  the  inhabitants  of  this  barren  region  almost  entire!  '  derive  a 
subsistence,  commence  at  this  place. 

These  appeared  to  be  unusually  gay  savages,  fond  of  loud  laiurluer; 
and,  in  their  apparent  good-nature  and  merry  character,  struck  mc  as  bt.iivr 
entirely  different  from  the  Indians  we  had  been  accustomed  to  see.  l-'nm, 
several  who  visited  our  camp  in  the  evening  we  purchased,  in  exchange 
for  goods,  dried  salmon.  At  this  season  they  arc  not  very  fat,  but  we  were 
easily  pleased.  The  Indians  made  us  comprehend  that  when  the  salmon 
came  up  the  river  in  the  spring  they  are  so  abundant  that  they  merely 
throw  in  their  spears  at  random,  certain  of  bringing  out  a  fish. 

These  poor  people  are  but  slightly  provided  with  winter  clothing  ;  there- 
is  but  little  game  to  furnish  skins  for  the  purpose  ;  and  of  a  little  animal 
which  seemed  to  be  the  most  numerous,  it  required  twenty  skins  to  make 
a  covering  to  the  knees.  But  they  are  still  a  joyous,  talkative  race,  who 
grow  fat  and  become  poor  with  the  salmon,  which  at  least  never  fail  them 
— the  dried  being  used  in  the  absence  of  the  fresh.  We  are  encamped  im- 
mediately on  the  river-bank,  and  with  the  salmon  jumping  up  out  of  the 
water,  and  Indians  paddling  about  in  boats  made  of  rushes,  or  laui^hin;^ 
around  the  fires,  the  camp  to-night  has  cjuite  a  lively  appearance. 

The  river  at  this  place  is  more  open  than  for  some  ilistancc  above : 
and,  for  the  time,  the  black  precipices  have  disappeared,  and  no  calcareous 
matter  is  visible  in  the  soil.  The  thermometer  at  sunset,  74^ ;  clear  aiiii 
calm. 

October  2d. — The  sunrise  temperature  was  48";  the  weather  clear  ami 
calm.  Shortly  after  leaving  the  encampment  we  crossed  a  stream  of  clear 
water  with  a  \-ariable  breadth  of  ten  to  twenty-tive  yards,  broken  by  rapitN. 
and  lightly  wooded  with  willow,  and  having  a  little  grass  on  its  small  hottdi;! 
land. 

The  barrenness  of  the  countrv  is  in  line  contrast  to-day  with  the  min- 
gled beauty  and  grandeur  of  the  river,  which  is  more  open  than  hitherto. 
with  a  constant  succession  of  falls  and  rapids.  Over  the  edge  of  the  black 
cliffs,  antl  out  from  their  faces,  are  falling  numberless  streams  and  sprini,'s; 
and  all  the  line  of  the  river  is  in  motion  with  the  play  of  the  water.  In 
about  seven  miles  we  reached  the  most  beautiful  and  picturesque  tall  1  liaii 
seen  on  the  river. 

On  the  opposite  side,  the  vertical  fall  is  perhaps  eighteen  feet  hi^'h; 
and  nearer,  tht:  sheet  of  foaming  water  is  divided  and  broken  into  cata- 
racts, where  several  little  islands  on  the  brink  and  in  the  river  above  .:.;ive 
it  much  jiicturesque'  beauty,  and  make  it  one  of  those  places  the  traveller 
turns  again  and  again  to  fi.x  in  his  memory.  There  were  several  loJgej 
of  Indians  here,  from  whom  we  traded  salmon. 


SECOyP  EXPEDITION— A   liJ-lAUTI/'l'L  AND  PICIUKRSQUK  FALL.  251 


Below  this  place  the  river  makes  a  remarkable  bend  ;  and  the  road, 
;isccnclinj;'  the  ridge,  gave  us  a  fine  view  of  thi  river  below,  intersected  at 
iiianv  places  by  numerous  fish-ilams.  In  the  north,  about  lifty  miles  dis- 
tant, were  some  high  snowy  peaks  of  the  Salmon  River  Mountains  ;  and 
ill  the  northeasL  the  last  peak  of  the  range  was  visible,  at  the  distance  of 
iiurhaps  one  hundred  miles  or  more.  The  river  hills  consist  of  very  broken 
masses  of  sand,  covered  everywhere  with  the  same  interminable  fields  of 
sa'^e,  and  occasionally  the  road  is  very  heavy. 

W'c  now  very  frequently  saw  Indians,  who  ere  strung  along  the  river 
at  every  little  rapid  where  fish  are  to  be  caught,  and  the  cry  /lUi^gai,  haggai 
(lisli),  was  constantly  heard  whenever  we  passed  near  their  huts  or  met 
them  ill  the  road.  Very  many  of  them  were  oddly  and  partially  dressed 
in  overcoat,  shirt,  waistcoat,  or  pantaloons,  or  whatever  article  of  clothii;g 
tlu.'V  had  been  able  to  procure  in  trade  from  the  emigrants  ;  for  we  had 
now  entirely  quitted  the  country  where  hawks'  bells,  beads,  and  vermilion 
were  tlie  current  coin,  and  found  that  here  only  useful  articles,  and  chiefly 
clothing,  were  in  great  recjuest.  These,  however,  are  eagerly  sought 
after,  and  for  a  few  trilling  pieces  of  clothing  travellers  may  procure  food 
suflicient  to  carry  them  to  the  Columbia. 

We  made  a  long  stretch  across  the  upper  plain,  and  encamped  on  the 
bliil'i',  where  the  grass  was  very  green  and  good  ,  the  soil  of  the  upper 
plains  containing  a  considerable  proportion  of  calcareous  matter.  This 
j,Teen  freshness  of  the  grass  was  very  remarkable  for  the  season  (  f  the  year. 
Aijain  w(;  heard  the  roar  of  a  fall  in  the  river  below,  where  the  water  in  an 
unbroken  volume  goes  over  a  descent  of  several  feet.  The  night  is  clear, 
anil  the  weather  continues  very  warm  and  pleasant,  with  a  sunset  tempera- 
ture of  70". 

October  id. — The  morning  was  pleasant,  with  a  temperature  at  sum-ise 
ot  4; .  The  road  was  broken  1)y  ravines  among  the  hills,  and  in  one  of 
these,  which  made  the  bed  of  a  dry  creek,  I  found  a  fragmentary  stratum, 
or  brecciated  conglomerate,  consisting  of  flinty  slate-pebbles,  with  frag- 
ments of  limestone  containing  fossil  shells. 

On  the  left  the  mountains  are  visible  at  a  distance  of  twent)-  or  thirty 
miles,  apj)earing  smooth  and  rather  low  ;  but  at  intervals  higher  peaks  look 
out  from  beyond,  and  indicate  that  the  main  ridge,  which  we  are  lea\ing 
with  the  course  of  the  river,  and  which  forms  the  northern  boundary  of 
'he  dreat  Rasin,  still  maintains  its  elevation. 

About  two  o'clock  we  arrived  at  the  ford  where  the  road  crosses  to 
the  rii^'ht  bank  of  Snake  River. 

An  Indian  was  hired  to  conduct  us  through  the  ford,  which  proved  im- 
practicable for  us,  the  water  sweeping  away  the  howitzer  and  nearly  drown- 
"l>'the  mules,  which  we  were  obliged  to  e.\tricate  by  cutting  them  out  of 


f;    -111 


!   !!'! 


i    , 

I 

:     ! 

I         4 


'.h 


U  4 


■M  ^!li 


II'  ,:: 


as  a 


MEMOIRS  OF  MV  1.1  ri]— JOHN  CHAR  US  /■R/':.\fOXT. 


the  harness.  The  river  here  is  expandetl  into  a  httle  bay  in  which  there 
are  two  islands,  across  which  is  tiie  road  of  the  ford  ;  and  the  emigrants 
had  passed  by  phicinjf  two  of  their  iieavy  \vaj;ons  abreast  of  eacii  other,  su 
as  to  oppose  a  considerable  mass  ai^^ainst  the  body  of  water. 

The  Indians  informed  us  that  one  of  the  men,  in  attempting'-  to  turn 
soHK!  cattle  which  had  taken  a  wroni^  direction,  was  carried  off  by  thi: 
current  and  drowned.  Since  their  passage  the  water  luul  risen  considir. 
abl)  ;  but,  fortunately,  we  had  a  resource  in  the  boat,  which  was  fillfi! 
with  air  and  launched;  and  at  seven  o'clock  we  were  safely  encamped  on 
the  opposite  bank,  the  animals  swinmiing  across,  and  the  carriai.;t',  hdwit- 
zer,  and  baggaj^e  of  the  cam[)  bt'int,''  carried  over  in  the  boat. 

At  the  place  where  we  crossed,  above  the  islands,  the  river  had  nar 
rowed  to  a  breadth  of  one  thousand  antl  forty-nine  feet  by  incasunincnt. 
the  greater  portion  of  which  was  from  si.\  to  eight  fec;t  deep.  We  were 
obliged  to  make  our  camp  where  we  landed,  .imong  the  Indian  lodges, 
which  are  semicircular  huts  matle  of  willow,  thatched  over  with  straw,  and 
open  to  the  sunny  south.  1))-  observation,  the  latitude  of  ourLiicampment 
on  the  right  bank  of  the  river  was  42  55'  5S"  ;  chronometric  longitude 
115"  04'  46",  and  tile  trax-ellinl  distance  from  b'ort  Hall  two  luiiKlred  and 
eight  miles. 

October  i^lJt.  —Calm,  pleasant  day,  with  the  thermometer  at  sunrise  at 
47'.  Leaving  the  -ixer  at  a  considerable  distance  to  the  left,  ami  following,' 
up  the  bed  of  a  rocky  creek,  with  occasional  holes  of  water,  in  about  six 
miles  we  ascended,  by  a  long  and  rather  stee[)  hill,  to  a  plain  si.x  hundre  1 
feet  abo\e  the  river,  over  which  we  continued  to  travel  during  the  day, 
having  a  broken  ridge  two  thousand  or  three  thousand  feet  high  on  tlv 
right.  Th(;  plain  terminates,  where  we  ascended,  in  an  <;scarpin{iit  otM  ■ 
sicular  trap-rock,  wdiich  supplies  the  fragments  of  the  creek  below.  Ih' 
sky  clouded  over,  willi  a  strong  wind  from  the  northwest,  with  a  few-drop^ 
of  rain  and  occasional  sunlight,  threatening  a  change. 

Artemisia  still  covers  the  plain,  but  Pitrshia  tridentata  makes  its  aii- 
pearance  here  on  the  hill-sides,  and  on  bottoms  of  the  creeks — quiteatrt-t 
in  size,  and  larger  than  the  artemisia.  We  crossed  several  hollows  with  a 
little  water  in  them  and  improveil  grass  ;  and,  turning  off  from  the  road  in 
the  afternoon  in  search  of  water,  travelled  about  three  miles  up  the  bed  ot 
a  willow  creek,  toward  the  mountain,  and  found  a  good  encampment,  witn 
wood  and  grass,  and  little  ponds  of  water  in  the  bed  of  the  creek;  which 
must  be  of  more  importance  at  other  seasons,  as  we  found  there  several 
old  fixtures  for  fishing.  There  were  many  holes  on  the  creek  prairie,  which 
had  been  made  by  the  diggers  in  search  of  roots. 

Wind  increased  to  a  violent  gale  from  the  northwest,  with  a  tempera- 
ture at  sunset  of  57". 


I  m: 


,s7;cv'.\v' /.■.\v'A7>/y'/r>.v   .;  tkri:/'.  tiiousand  rr.r.r  kidce.      i^s 

Oclobn-  fi^/i. —  I  Hl"  morninj;'  was  calm  and  clear,  ami  at  sunrise!  tlu-  tlu;r- 
nmmctt'r  was  at  32".  Tlu:  road  to-day  was  occasionalK'  extremely  r(n:ky, 
with  hard  volcanic  fraii,mienls,  and  our  tra\-ellin,iL^- \  iM-y  slow.  In  about  nine 
miles  tlu:  read  brought  us  to  a  group  of  siiiokin;^-  hot  spriuL^^s,  with  a  teui- 
pt.raliiic  ot"  164". 

There  wen  a  few  helianthi  in  bloom,  with  some  other  low  plants,  and 
the  ijjace  was  qreen  roundaljout  ;  the  nround  warm,  and  the  air  pleasam, 
with  a  .innmiT  atmosjjherc  that  was  v('ry  yrateful  in  a  day  of  hi^h  and 
,iilil  searching;'  wind.  The  rocks  were  covered  with  a  while  and  red  in- 
cni.--iation  ;  and  the  water  has  on  tlu,-  tongue  the  same  unpleasant  eiTect 
,;s  that  of  the  iJasin  S[}rin^'  on  H(;ar  River.  They  form  sineral  branches, 
ami  buhhle  U|>  with  force  enoui^'h  to  raise;  the  small  pebbles  scneral  inclies. 

Tlic  followinij^  is  an  analysis  of  the  deposite  with   which  tlie  rticks  are 

iiicriistcd  : 

.An.m.v^i^. 

Silira 7-35 

Caibmiatu  of  liino   14.60 

Carlnm.itf  (if  niaynciia 1.30 

0\k.^  .    ;  ■  - 4-^5 

.\lim\in,i  o.  70 

Clikiriilf  iif  soiliuiii,  etc.  \ 

Siilph.iti'  of  scula  - 1. 10 

Sulplialc  of  liiiu'.  itc.       ' 

1 1  Ismail  ii;  VLi^Lialjlc  iiKittur    j 

W'atir  .iiul  lobS  ^ '" 

100.00 

riicse  spriiii's  are  near  the  foot  of  the  ridge  (a  dark  and  ruggeddook- 
!:i-;  mountain),  in  which  some  of  ti^.e  nearer  rocks  have  a  reddish  appear- 
ance, and  probably  consist  of  a  reddish-brown  trap,  fragments  of  which 
wire  scattered  along  the  road  after  leaving  the  sprii.g.  The  road  was 
now  about  to  cross  the  point  of  this  mountain,  Avhich  we  judged  to  in-  a 
s|)i;r  from  the  .Salmon  River  range. 

We  crossc.'d  a  small  cret:k,  and  encamped  about  sunset  on  a  stream 
'iiich  is  probably  I.aki;  River.  This  is  a  small  stream,  some,  five  or  si.\ 
Icet  broad,  with  a  swift  currcmt,  wooded  principally  with  willows  c^nd  some 
!t\v  cotton-woods.  Along  the  banks  were  canes,  rose-bushes,  and  clenia- 
t:s,  with  Purshia  tridentata  and  artemisias  on  the  ui)per  bcjttoni.  Tht: 
-ombn;  appearance  of  the  country  is  somewhat  relieved  in  coming  iinex- 
I'Cctedly  troni  the  dark  rocks  upon  these  green  and  wooded  water-courses, 
^unk  in  chasms  ;  and,  in  the  spring,  the  contrasted  effect  must  make  th.em 
beautiful. 

The  thermometer  at  simset  47"^,  and  the  night  threatening  snow. 

Octolh-y  6///.-  -The  morning  warm,  the  thermometer  46'  at  sunrise,  and 
sky  entirely  clouded.     After  travelling  about  three  miles  over  an  extremely 


4 


II 


ll'.'i 


IliH' 


254 


M/:.]ro/RS  OF  A/y  i.ii-i:~jonx  chakles  fremont. 


rocky  road,  the  volcanic  fragments  began  to  disappear ;  and,  cntcrino- 
among  the  hills  at  the  point  of  the  mountain,  we  foinul  ourselves  siuklenlv 
in  a  granite  country  Here  the  character  of  the  vegetation  was  very 
much  changed  ;  th(;  arLemisia  disappeared  almost  entirely,  showiivr  only 
al  intervals  toward  the  cose  of  the  day,  and  was  replaced  by  Purshia  tri- 
dentata,  with  flowering  shrubs  and  small  fields  oi  dieter ia  divaricata,\\\\v\\ 
gave  bloom  and  gayety  to  the  hills.  These  were  everywheri'  cover"'' 
witli  a  fresh  and  green  short  grass,  like  that  of  the  early  s])riiinr.  '{■],;., 
is  the  fall  or  secontl  growth,  the  dried  grass  having  been  burnt  off  bv  the 
hidians  ;  and  wherever  the  fire  has  passed,  the  bright-green  color  is  uni- 
versal. 

I'he  soil  among  the  hills  is  altogether  different  h'om  that  of  ihc  river 
plain,  being  in  many  places  black,  in  others  sandy  and  gravelly,  hut  of  ;i 
firm  and  good  character,  appearing  t(j  result  from  the  decomposition  of  the 
granite  rocks,  which  is  proceeding  ra|)idl)'. 

In  quitting  for  a  time  tlie  art(;misia  ( sagej  through  which  we  lirul  been 
so  long  voyaging,  and  the  sombre  appearance  ot  which  is  so  discoiu'ai^inL;, 
I  have  to  remark  that  I  have  been  informed  that  in  Alexico  wheat  is  i^^rown 
upon  the  ground  which  produces  this  shrub  ;  which,  if  true,  relieves  the 
soil  from  the;  character  of  sterilit\-  imputed  to  it.  Be  this  as  it  iiiav,  there 
is  no  elispute  about  the  grass,  which  is  almost  iini\CM-s;d  on  the  liills  aoi! 
mountains,  and  ,'ilwavs  nutritious,  even  in  its  dry  state. 

\Vc;  passed  on  the  way  masst:s  of  granite;  on  the  sl(5[)e  of  a  spur,  which 
was  very  much  weathered  and  abraded.  This  is  a  white  leldspathic  <^ran- 
ite,  with  small  scales  of  lilack  mica;  smoky  quartz  in  which  there  are  gar- 
nets appear  to  constitute  this  portion  of  tlu;  mountain. 

'X\\v.  road  at  noon  reached  a  broken  ridge,  on  which  were  scattered 
many  bowlders  or  blocks  of  granite  ;  and,  passing  \qx\  small  streams, 
where,  with  a  littb'  more  than  the  usual  timber,  was  sometimes  gathered  a 
little  wilderness  of  plants,  we  encampeHl  on  a  small  stream,  after  a  mardi 
of  twenty-two  miles,  in  company  with  a  few  Indians. 

Temperatun;  ,11  -^unset,  51";  and  the  night  was  partially  (dear,  with  a 
few  stars  visible  through  drifting  white  clouds.  The  Indians  made  an  un- 
successful attfMupt  to  steal  a  few  horses  from  us  a  thing  of  course  with 
tliem,  an<l  to  prevent  which  the  traveller  is  on  perpetual  watch. 

Otiohcy  "/III.  -The  day  was  bright,  clear,  ami  pleasant,  with  a  temper- 
ature of  45  ;  and  wt;  breakfasted  at  sunrise,  the  birds  singing  in  the  uc-s 
as  merril\-  as  if  wc;  aere  in  the  midst  of  summer.  On  the  upper  edye  ol 
the  hills,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  creek,  the  black  volcanic  rock  reap 
pears  ;  and  asctMuling  these,  the  road  passed  through  a  basin,  anuini; 
which  the  hills  swept  in  such  a  manivr  as  to  g;ve  ii  the  appear.uice  ot  an 
old    crater.      Mere  were:   str.it.i  and    broken   bi'ds  of  l)lack   scurhitctl  rock^ 


SECOND  EXPELiriOX—RFJD'S  RIVER. 


ind  hill^  composed  of  the  same,  on  tlic  summit  of  one  of  which  there  was 
,ui  o])cning-  resembhng  a  rent. 

We  travelled  to-day  through  a  country  resembling  that  of  yestercLn-. 
where,  although  the  surface  was  hilly,  the  road  was  good,  being  firm  and 
entirely  free  from  rocks  and  arten^.isia.  To  our  left,  below,  was  the;  great 
sa"'f'  pl'iiii ;  'i'''*^^  '^'''  ^^^'-  '"'S'^t  were  the  near  mountains,  which  presentctl  a 
sinoothh-  broken  character,  or  rather  a  surface  waved  into  numberless  hills. 
File  road  was  occasionally  enlivened  b\'  meeting  Indians,  and  the  day  was 
I  xtrcmelv  beautiful  and  pleasant ;  and  we  were  pleased  to  \>q.  {rc:^  from  the 
sa"i\  even  for  a  day.  When  we  had  travelled  about  eight  miles  we  were 
ncarlv  opposite  to  the  highest  portion  of  tl;'^  tnountains  on  the  left  side  of 
the  Smoke  River  X'alley  ;  and,  continuing  oi',  a  few  miles  beyond,  we  came 
sudilcnK'  in  sight  of  the  broad,  green  line  ot  the  \'alley  of  the  Rivilyc 
/)V/V((' i wooded  river),  black  near  the  gorg(;  wher^;  it  di;bouches  into  the 
iilains,  with  high  precipices  of  basalt,  between  walls  of  w  hich  it  passes  on 
ei:ier;;iiig  from  the  mountains.  I'"ollowing  with  the  eye  its  upward  course, 
it  appears  to  be  shut  in  among  lofty  mountains,  confining  its  \alley  in  a 
verv  ruL;\L:ed  countr\-. 

r)escencling  the  hills,  after  iravelling  a  few  miles  along  the  high  plain, 
the  road  brought  us  down  upon  the  Iiottoms  of  the  river,  which  is  a  bt-au- 
tilul  rapid  stream,  with  clear  mountain  w;itcr,  an  ',,  as  the  name  indicates, 
well  wooded  with  some  varieties  of  timber  amc  '.g  which  are  hamlsome 
cotton-woods.  Such  a  stream  had  become  (piite  a  novelty  in  this  country, 
and  we  were  dcdighted  this  afternoon  to  make  a  |)leasant  camp  under  fine 
old  trees  again. 

There  were  several  Indian  encami)ments  scattered  along  tin.'  ri\er  ;  and 
,1  nuniliiT  of  their  inhabitants,  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  came  to  the 
lainp  oil  horseback  with  iried  and  fresh  fish  to  trade.  The  exening  was 
clear,  and  the  temperaturo  at  sunset  57  . 

.At  the  time  o.  the  first  occupation  of  this  region  bv  parties  engriged  in 

the  hir  trade,   a  small   i);uM\-  of  men,   under  the  conmiand   o< Reid, 

constituting  all  the  garrison  of  a  little  fi)rt  on  this  river,  were  surprisetl  and 
massacred  by  the  Indians  ;  and  to  this  e\ent  the  stream  owes  its  occasional 
name  of  Renfs  River. 

On  the  Sth  we  travelled  about  iwoiUy-si.x  miles,  the:  ri(lsj;e  on  the  ri  dit 
havino- scatter',:t!  pines  on  the  upper  ptuls  ;  ;uul,  continuing  the  next  day 
imr  road  ;ilo(ig  the  river  Ijottom,  after  <i  day's  travel  of  tucnty-fnur  miles 
we  enrainped  in  the  evening  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river,  a  mile  above 
the  mouth,  and  early  the  next  morning  arrived  at  I'ort  Jiiiisc.  This  is  a 
simple  dwelling-hinise  on  the  right  bank  of  Snake  River,  about  a  mile  be- 
'''w  the  mdiitli  of  Kivi'Tt-  Hoisee  ;  and  on  o;;r  arrival  we  wcrv.  received 
"vithan  aijreeaUe  hospitality  by  Mr.    Payette,  an    uthcer  of  du    Hudson 


J, 


)    > , 


I  I 


III! 


u 


>  i  ,1 


N'i 


1 '' 

[ 

■'    1 
''    ! 

256  .l/AM/r'/A'-V  ()/■■  .1/)"  I.IFF.~JO!l X  ClfARfJ-lS  FN/iMiWT. 

Bay  Compan) ,  in  charge;  of  tlic  fort;   all  o{  whose   garrison   consisted  in  a 
Canadian  ciio^aQV. 

I  lerti  the  road  rcTrosscss  the'  ri\cr,  which  is  broad  and  deep;  Init,  with 
onr  good  boat,  aided  by  two  canoes  which  were  foLUul  at  the  place,  ti'.p 
camp  was  \'ery  soon  transferred  to  the  left  bank.  Mere  we  found  oiirselvis 
again  surronnded  by  the  sage  ;  artemisia  tridentata,  and  the  different 
shrubs  which  tluring  our  \oyage  had  always  made  their  appearance  almn- 
dantly  on  saline  soils,  being  here  the  prevailing  antl  almost  the  only  plant-;. 
Among  them  the  siniace  was  co\-ered  with  the  usual  saline  efllorescences, 
which  here  consist  almost  entirely  <)!  carbonate  of  soda,  with  a  sin.ill  uDr- 
tion  of  chloride  of  sodium. 

Mr.  I'ayette  hael  made  but  slight  attempts  at  cultivation,  his  efforts 
being  Uniited  to  raising  a  few  vegetables,  in  which  he  succ( cdcd  toler 
ably  well  ;  the  post  being  principally  supported  by  salmon.  He  was  very 
hospitable  and  kind  to  us,  and  we  made  a  sensible  impression  upon  all  his 
comestibles  ;  but  our  principal  inroatl  was  into  the  dairy,  which  was  alnin- 
dantly  supplietl,  stock  appf'aring  to  thrive  extremely  well  ;  and  \\i'  had  an 
unusual  lu.xury  in  a  present  ot  fresh  butter,  which  was,  howevir,  bv  ii'- 
means  equal  to  that  of  I'ort  1  lall  probalily  from  some  accidental  cause-. 
During  the  day  we  remained  here  there  were  consideraljle  numbers  of 
miserabU;  half-naked  Indians  around  the  fort,  who  had  arri\ed  trom  the 
neighl)oring  mountain-.  During  th'-  sinnmer,  the  only  subsistence  el' 
these  people  is  derived  h^oni  th'-  --.almon,  of  which  thc:y  are  not  provident 
enough  to  lay  up  a  sufficient  store  tor  the  winter,  during  which  inauv  ff 
them  die  from  absolute  starvation. 

Many  little  accounts  and  scattered  histories,  together  with  an  acquaint- 
ance which  I  gradually  ac([uired  of  their  motles  of  life,  had  left  tlir  alu  ri^- 
inal  inhabitants  (jf  this  vast  ree;Ioii  [.ictured  in  ni\-  miml  as  a  race  of  peopi 
whose  great  and  constant  occupation  was  the  means  of  procuring  a  subsist- 
ence ;  and  thf)ugh  want  of  space  and  other  reasons  will  prevent  me  frn: 
detailing  the  many  incitlents  which  made  these  things  familiar  to  me,  tlii 
great  feati' re  among  thf  characteristics  of  the  country  will  gradually  f- 
forced  up.in  the  mind  of  the  reader. 

Pointing  to  a  g^roup  of  Indians  who  had  just  arrivcel  from  the  mnuntaiii 
nn  the  l<dt  side;  of  the  \-alley,  and  who  were  regarding  our  usual  appli.uui-- 
of  civilization  with  an  air  of  bewildered  curiosit\-,  .Mr.  I'ayette  infonntd  ni 
that,  every  yt.'ar  since  his   arri\al   at   this    {)ost,  he    hatl   imsuccessiully  1 
deavored  to  ind\ice  these  people  to  lay  up  a  store  of  salmon  for  their  winter 
provision.      While  the  siunmiM-  weather  and  the  salmon  lasted,  iliey  livei 
contentedl)-  and  hajjpily,  scattereil  along  the  different  stre.mis  where  !!'■ 
fish  were  to  be  found  ;   and  as  soon  as  the  winter  snows  beg.m  to  lall,  iiH' 
smokes  would  be  seen  rising  aniong  the  moimtains,  where  they  would  h^ 


k 


Sf.CO.VD  /■Xr/-D/770X-.UA'.  PAYl-.TTR'S  /fOSP/'/A I./rV. 


'->7 


found  ill  miserable  groups,  starving  out  the  winter  ;  and  sometimes,  accortl- 
iiv  to  the  general  belief,  reduced  to  the  horror  of  cannibalism— the  strong, 
of  coarse,  [ireying  on  the  weak.  Certain  it  is  they  are  driven  to  any  ex- 
tremitv  for  fooil,  and  eat  every  insect,  and  every  creeping  thing,  however 
loathsome  and  repulsive.  Snails,  lizards,  ants — all  are  devoured  with  the 
readiness  and  greediness  of  mere  animals. 

In  common  with  all  tlv  other  Indians  we  had  encountered  since  reach- 
In  '  the  I'acific  waters,  these  people  use  the  Shoshonee  or  Snake  language, 
which,  as  will  be  remarked  in  the  course  of  the  narrative,  is  the  universal 
lanf^uai^e  over  a  very  extensive  region. 

On  the  ravening  of  the  loth  I  obtained,  with  the  usual  observations,  a 
\rTv  <xc(.'llent  emersion  of  th(;  first  satellite,  agreeing  very  nearl\-  v.ith  the 
clirononi(,-ter.     h'rom  thes(>  observations  the  longitude  of  the  fort  is    i  lO 
47' go' ,  latitude  43    40'  22",  and  elevation  above  the   sea  two   thousand 
one  hundred  ieet. 

Sitting  by  the  fire  on  the  river-bank,  and  waiting  for  the  immersion  of 
the  satellite,  which  did  not  take  place  until  after  midnight,  we  heard  the 
tnoni^tonous  song  of  the  Indians,  with  which  they  accompany  a  certain 
^Miiic  of  which  they  are  very  fond.  Of  the  poetry  we  could  not  judge,  but 
tlif  music  was  miserable. 

Octo'h-y  wtli. — The  morning  was  clear,  with  a  light  breeze  from  the 
■  .i-.t,  and  a  temper  iture  at  sunrise  of  33  .  A  [jart  of  a  bullock  purchasetl 
at  the  fort,  together  with  the  boat  to  assist  him  in  cros;>ing,  was  left  htTe 
fo:- Mr.  Fitziiatrick,  and  at  eleven  n'clock  we  resumed  our  journey;  and 
irucdy  ha\ing  the  livL'r,  ami  crossing  the  artemisia  plain,  in  several  as- 
nts  we  ri'.iched  th(!  l.i'U  c.f  a  ridge  where  the  road  enttr.xl  a  drv,  sandy 
iioilow,  ui)  which  it  continued  to  the  head  ;  and,  crossing  a  di\itling  ridge, 
i.'iitereJ  a  -iniilar  oni'. 

liV  met  lirre  two  poor  cmigranls  (Irishmen)  who  had  lost  their  horses 
t\voda\s  since  probabK'  stolen  by  the  Indians-  and  were  returning  to 
the  lort  ill  hopes  to  hear  scMuething  nf  them  there.  I'hey  had  r(;ct'nt]\- 
had  nothing  to  eat  ;  and  I  halted  to  unpack  an  animal,  and  ga\e  them  meat 
lor  their  dinner.     In  this  hollow  the;  artemisia  is  |)artially  displaced  on  the 


.;'a'side.s    \y\    grass;    and 


descending    it, 


about    sunset    we    reached    the 


Rtvurc  aux  Malltcios  (the  unfortunate  or  unluckv  river),  a  considerable 
-tream,  with  an  averag<,'  breadth  of  fifty  fet.'t  and.  at  this  time,  eighteen 
inclus'  depth  of  water. 

The  hottoin  lands  w(!re  generally  one  and  a  half  mih'  broad,  covereil 
principally  with  long  dry  grass ;  and  we  had  difficulty  to  fnui  sufficient 
,;jooil  jrrass  (or  the  camp.  With  the  exception  of  a  bad  place  of  a  ^vw  hun- 
iroil  yards  long,  which  occurred  in  rounding  a  point  of  hill  to  reach  the 
I'T^liifihe  river,  the  road  during  the  day  had  been  very  good. 


P  .1 


T' 

'^m 

n  i:  '  H  1 

'  '  1 

! 

II 

1               1 

■ 

'  i 

'! 


It 


r  1   IWj;, 


r  .^'f 


'.    Hi 


!n  i 


258 


.l/AJ/C'/A'.S-  C7/'-  .1/)'  /.//'•/■:— /(Uf.V  CHARI.h'.S  FR /■:.\rONT. 


October  I  2//^. — The  morning-  was  clear  and  calm,  and  the  tlicrmoincttr 
at  sunrisf,"  23'.  My  attention  was  attracted  by  a  smoke  on  the  ri"-ht  side 
of  the  river,  a  little  below  the  ford,  where  1  lound  on  the  low  bank,  iiearihe 
water,  a  considerable  number  of  hot  springs,  in  which  the  teinperature  of 
the  water  was  193  .  The  ground,  which  was  too  hot  for  the  naked  font, 
was  covered  alcove  and  below  the  springs  with  an  incrustaticjn  of  coinmon 
salt,  very  white  ami  good,  and  fine-grained. 

I.eading  for  five  miles  up  a  broad  dry  branch  of  llie  Malheurs  River,  tin 
road  entered  a  sandy  hollow  where  the  surface  was  rendered  firm  l>v  ih, 
admixture  of  other  rock,  being  good  ami  level  until  arriving  near  the  hcaii 
of  the  ravine,  where  it  bt^came  a  little  rock)%  and  we  met  with  a  number  u! 
sharp  ascents  over  an  undulating'  surface.  Crossing  here  a  dividing-  rid"-c, 
it  became  an  excellent  road  of  gradual  tlescent  tlown  a  very  marked  huHow  ; 
in  which,  afu-r  Wn  miles,  willows  liegan  to  ap])ear  in  the  dry  bed  <if  a  head 
of  the  Ri\'il>c  aitx  Ihiii'caux  (IJirch  River)  ;  and  descending  seven  inilcs 
we  found,  at  its  junction  witli  another  branch,  a  little  water,  not  \vx\  oood 
or  abundant,  but  sutficient  in  case  ot  necessit)'  tor  a  camp. 

Crossing  Birch  River  wt;  continued  for  about  four  miles  across  a  point 
of  hill,  the  country  on  the  left  btdng  (Mitirely  mountainous,  with  no  knx-l 
spot  to  1)'!  seer.  ;  whence  we  descended  to  Snake  River — here  a  fnicdook- 
ing  stream,  with  a  large  body  of  water  and  a  smooth  current,  althouj^h 
we  hear  the  roar  and  se(;  below  us  the  commencement  of  rauids  where  ii 
enters  among  the  hills.  It  forms  here  ,-'  de(;p  l)ay,  with  a  low  san. '.-island 
in  the  midst;  and  its  course  among  the  mountains  is  agreeablv  exchanged 
for  the  black  volcanic  rock.  The  weather  during  the  day  hail  been  very 
bright  and  extremely  hot;  but,  as  usual,  so  soon  as  the  sun  went  down,  it 
was  necessary  to  put  on  overcoats. 

I  obtained  this  evening  an  observation  of  an  emersion  of  the  first  satel- 
lite, and  our  observations  place  this  encampment  in  latitude  44"  17  ;,6  ,  and 
longitudi;  1 16"  56'  45",  which  is  the  mean  of  the  results  from  tin:  satellite 
and  chronometer  ;  the  elevation  above  the  sea,  one  thousand  eight  hundred 
and  eighty  feet.      .\t  this  encampment  the  grass  is  scanty  and  poor. 

October  \;^i/i.  -The  morning  was  bright,  with  the  temperature  at  sun- 
rise 28".  The  horses  had  strayed  off  during  the  night,  probably  in  search 
of  grass ;  and,  ;;fter  a  considerable  d(da\-,  we  had  succeeded  in  finding- all 
but  two,  when,  about  nine  o'clock,  we  heard  the  sound  of  an  Indian  sum,' and 
drum  .•i|>proaching ;  and,  shortly  after,  three  Cayuse  Indians  appeared  in 
sight,  bringing  with  them  the  two  animals.  They  belonged  to  a  part} 
which  had  been  on  a  buffalodmnt  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Rocky  .Moun- 
tains, and  were'  hurr\ing  home  in  advance;.  We  presented  them  with  sonu 
tobacco  and  other  things,  with  which  the\'  appearetl  well  salislicd,  and, 
moderating  their  pace,  travelled  in  comp.uiv  with  us. 


SF.CO.VD  r.XPKD/f/OX—CA  VUSE  /NDIAA'S. 


259 


We  were  now  about  to  leave  the  valley  of  the  great  southern  branch  of 
the  Columbia  River,  to  which  the  absence  of  timber  and  the  scarcity  of 
water  i^Mve  ihc  appearance  ot  a  desert,  to  enter  a  mountainous  region  where 
the  soil  is  L;()od  and  in  which  the  lace  of  the  country  is  covered  with  nutri- 
tious sTasses  and  dense  toresi  land  embracing  many  varieties  of  trees 
ueiuliar  to  the  country,  and  on  which  the  timber  exhibits  a  luxuriance  of 
Towth  unknown  to  the  eastern  part  of  the  continent  and  to  Europe. 

This  mountainous  region  ci)nnects  itself  in  the  southward  and  westward 
with  the  elevated  country  belonging  to  the  Cascade  or  California  range  ; 
aiiil,  as  will  be  remarked  in  the  course  of  the  narrative,  forms  the  eastern 
limit  of  the  fertile  and  timbered  lands  along  the  ilescrt  and  mountainous 
;-e>;i()n  included  within  the  Great  Basin--  a  termwhicii  I  apply  to  the  inter- 
mediate region  between  llu.'  Rocky  Mountains  and  die  next  range,  contain- 
in- many  lakes,  with  their  own  system  of  rivers  and  cieeks  (of  which  the 
Great  Salt  Lake  is  the  principal),  and  which  have  no  connection  with  the 
ueean  or  the  great  rivers  which  How  into  it.  This  Great  Basin  is  yet  to  be 
adequateiy  explored. 

And  here,  on  (putting  the  banks  of  a  j-.lcrile  river  to  (Mitcr  on  arable 
mountains,  the  rt.'mark  may  be  made  tb.at,  on  this  western  slope  o^  our 
inntiiient,  the  usual  order  of  distribution  of  good  and  bad  soil  is  often  re- 
versed the  river  and  crecd<  1)ottoms  being  often  sterile  and  darkened  with 
the  -loomy  and  barren  arlemisia  ;  while  the  mountain  is  often  fertile  and 
lovered  with  rich  grass,  pleasant  to  the  eye  and  good  for  flocks  and  herds. 
Leaving  entirely  the  Snake  River,  which  is  said  hencelorth  to  ]Dursue 
it^ course  through  caAons,  amidst  rocky  and  impracticable  moumains  where 
there  is  no  possibility  of  travelling  with  animals,  we  ascended  a  long  and 
>v)ine\\hat  stee])  hill  ;  and,  crossing  the  eli\  iding  ridge,  came  down  into  the 
\'all(  y  of  /-111 rut  Rhcr,  which  here  looks  like  a  hole  among  the  hills.  The 
.ivera,i;e  breatlth  of  the  stream  here  is  thirty  feet ;  it  is  well  fringed  with  the 
ii^ual  small  trees;  and  the  soil  in  the  bottoms  is  good,  with  better  grass 
than  \ve  had  lately  been  accustomed  to  see. 

We  now  travelled  through  a  very  mountainous  country  ;  the  stream 
running  rather  in  a  ravine  than  a  valley,  and  the  road  is  decidedly  bad 
iiid  dangerous  for  single  wagons,  frecpiently  crossing  the  stream  where 
the  water  is  sometimes  deep  ;  all  the  da\'  the  animals  were  fatigued  in 
diinhini^r  up  and  descending  a  succession  of  steep  ascents,  to  avoid  the  pre- 
dpitous  hill-sides  :  and  the  common  trail,  which  leads  along  the  mountain- 
■'ide  at  places  where  the  river  strikes  the  base,  is  sometimes  bad  even  for 
I  liorsemaiv 

rile  nrountains  along  this  day's  journey  wc-re  composctl,  near  the  river, 
ol  asla^  calcar«)us  rock  in  a  metamorphic  condition.  It  appears  originally 
to  have  been  .1  slaty  sedimentary  limestone,  but  its  present  condition   indi- 


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j//:j/(!/A'.s  (•>/■■  .]/]■  i.iri.—jonx  ciiari.iis  i-ri\mo\t. 


catcs  that  it  li.is  hrcn  aitcrcd  and  has  hcooiiic  partialk  crystalline:— iirob- 
ably  from  the  pioxiniily  ol  \olcanic  rocks.  iWit  thou_L,fli  travclliiv  \v;i>, 
slow  and  lalii^uinjL;'  to  the  animals,  wc  were  delii^htetl  with  the  appearanc' 
of  the  country,  which  was  j^reeii  and  rehx'shiny  after  our  tediuus  jouriK'v 
tlown  liie  leached  \  alh^y  ot  Snake;  Ki\er. 

I'lie  nioinnain,;  were  covered  with  ^ood  lumch-^Tass  (fcstuca);  tii- 
water  of  tile  s'.rc:anis  was  cold  and  pure;  ihrir  bottoms  were  handsoinci^ 
woodetl  v/ilh  various  kimls  ol  tree:.;  and  Inuye  and  lofly  and  picturcsti',!' 
precipices  were  disphiyetl  wdiere  tlu-  rix'cr  cut  throuL^ii  the  mountiiiiis. 


We  tound  \\\  tlh;  e\'(M;iilL'  some  ''CJOil 


■rass  ; 


mil  rushes  ;   aiiil  enciiiiijic 


amont^r  lar_i;e  timber,  principally  birch,  which  had  been  recentl\-  burnt  aiiu 
blackened,  and  almost  destroyed  by  hre.  The  niyj'ht  was  calm  and  tolL-ra- 
biy  clear,  with  ihe  thermometer  at  sunset  at  59'.  Our  journey  to-day  wa^ 
about  tweiU)-  miles. 

October  \\th.-  The  day  was  clear  and  calm,  with  a  temperature  at  .:;:n- 
rise  of  46  .  After  traveliiiiL;'  about  lh;'ee  mik:s  up  the  valley,  we  found  thi. 
river  shut  up  b\-  precijiices  in  a  kind  of  canon,  and  the  road  n,.ikes  a  circuit 
over  tiie  mountains.  In  tlu;  atlerno(ui  wi;  reaidied  the  rivir  ai,^ain.  I", 
anotiier  little  ravine;  and,  alter  tr;iveliin^'  jiIoul;'  it  toi  a  lew  luilis,  li.-;'';  j; 
enclosed  amonj4"  rutte  mountains  ;  and,  ascendiuL;'  a  smaller  branch,  r';- 
camped  on  it  about  fuc  oVlock,  \t:ry  much  ele\ated  above  tlu;  \  alley. 

The  \iew  was  e\  er\  whcrt;  limited  l)v  nioimtains,  on  wdiich  were  no  Ion;;!.-!- 
secin  tlie  bhick  and  b.arren  r(.)cks  but  a  fertile  soil,  with  excellent  i^^rass,  aiii, 
j);ut)y  well  eo\-ered  widi  pin<_'.  !  h;i\-(;  ne\<'r  seen  ,1  wa^'on-road  eijualiy 
b;id,  in  the  same  si)ace,  ;is  this  ot  vesterdav  ;uu!  to-dav.  1  noticed  wher' 
one  waj;*!!!  hail  l^et  n  ovi'rtiu'ned  twice,  in  a  V(jr\' short  distance  ;  anilit"..- 
siirprisin_i^'  to  me  that  those:  w,i;_;()ns  whieli  were  i:i  tlie  rear,  and  coukliM'. 
have  had  much  as-Ttance,  ;;ol  ihroui^h  at  all.  Still,  ther  •  is  no  niiid  ;  aiv: 
the  road  ha-  one  advaiitaLjc  in  biiu!^'  perh.'ctK'  hrm.  ddie  da\' had  hfci'i 
warm  and  \ery  pl«  as.mt,  and  the  ni:^h.t  was  perfectl\-  ckiU% 

Oclo!>rr  \^t!i.  The  llu-rmonu  ter  at  dayliL;ht  was  .p  ,  and,  at  sunnv 
40  :  (  londs,  which  were  scatti:reil  over  all  the  .d<.y,  disa|)peared  with  t.ii- 
ri-'luL;-  sun.  Tiv  trail  did  nnt  nuich  imijro'.  ••  until  we  had  i.-ro^^ed  tli';  a;- 
vidift!.;  i^Toundx  between  tlie  />','7^/('' (  Burnt )  ,md  Powder  Rivers. 

The  rock  di>.j>layed  on  the  mountains  as  we  ap])roached  the  siiiiimii 
w;(s  a  ci>isij;p;ict  trap,  d^iX^^mposini;  on  the  e,\])osed  surkices,  and  api).irriitly 
an  altei>d  ar-.;iI!acevHis  sandstoni',  containing;'  small  crystalline'  nodiilcMi: 
anolciine,  ^pparetujy  teiiiiii:;-  cavities  ori,L,dnally  e\i  .tiiiL;.  Ironi  the  s'.in:niii 
hiM't;  iIh-  "whole  l!K>ri2>on  shows  hi-n  mountain';  :  no  hi;^-h  ph'.in  or  Icvol  ;- 
t0  l5e  >*x.n  ;  aivd  v>ii  thi'  left,  from  south  arouiul  bv  the  west  to  north,  t.ic 
m'n.Uii.t;r:i.ins  aiv  black  wnh  |>im-s  ;  while  through  the:  rem.iiiiin-''  ^l''"^'"''  '" 
the  ea,-s4rward  the\  are  bald,  with  the  exce[)tion  uT  some  :-.catl''red  pnicv 


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CAMI-,   OCTi-BER    14.-  SNAKE   RIVER. 


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sr.COXD  KXJ'EDITION—OUR  CAYVSES  LEAVE  US. 


a6t 


\Vc  arc  now  entering  a  retrion  where  all  the  elevated  parts  are  covered 
with  dense  and  heavy  forests.  I'Voni  the  dividint;  grounds  we  descended 
by  a  mountain  road  to  Powder  River,  on  an  old  bed  of  which  wc  en- 
camped. Descending  from  the  summit,  we  enjoyed  a  picturesque  view  of 
hi  rh  rocky  mountains  on  the  right,  illuminated  by  the  setting  sun. 

I'riun  the  heights  we  had  looked  in  vain  for  a  well-known  landmark  on 
I'owdcr  River,  which  had  been  described  to  me  by  Mr.  Payette  as  rarbrc 
,v«/(the  lone  tree)  ;  and,  on  arriving  at  the  river,  we  found  a  fine  tall  pine 
stretched  on  the  ground,  which  had  been  felled  by  some  inconsiderate 
, mi  rant  axe.     It  had  been  a  beacon  on  the  road  for  many  years  past. 

OurCavuses  had  become  impatient  to  reach  their  homes,  ami  travelled 
on  ahead  to-dav  ;  and  this  afternoon  we  were  visited  by  several  Indians 
who  bcli)ng<;d  to  the  tribes  on  the  Columbia.  They  were  on  horseback, 
and  were  out  on  a  hunting  excursion,  but  had  obtained  no  better  game 
;han  a  hirijt;  ^ray  hare,  of  which  each  had  some  six  or  seven  hanging  to 
:iis  saihlh-. 

W'c  were  also  visited  by  an  Indian  who  had  his  lodge  and  family  in  the 
■.nountain  to  the  left.  He  was  in  want  of  ammunition,  and  brought  with 
':i.i:ii  a  l)fja\er-skin  to  exchange,  which  he  valued  at  six  charges  of  powder 
and  balL  I  learned  from  him  that  there  are  very  few  of  these  animals  re- 
maining in  this  part  of  the  country. 

The  temperature  at  sunset  was  6i',  and  thei-vening  clear.  I  obtained, 
with  othftr  observations,  an  immersion  and  emersion  of  the  third  satellite. 
Elevatiiiii,  three  thousand  one  hundred  feet. 

October  1 6///.  -For  several  weeks  the  weather  in  the  daytime  has  been 
viTv  beautiful,  clear,  and  warm;  but  the  nights,  in  comparison,  are  very 
cold.  During  the  night  there  was  ice  a  (juarter  of  an  inch  thick  in  the 
loJ^it' ;  and  at  (iavlight  the  thermometer  was  at  i6  ,  ami  the  same  at  sun- 
ri-c  the  wcitlier  being  calm  and  clear.  The  annual  vegetation  now  is 
marly  j^ainc,  almost  all  the  plants  being  out  of  bloom. 

Last  night  two  of  our  horses  had  run  off  again,  which  delayed  us  until 
nui'n;  and  we  made;  to-day  but  a  short  iourni'\-  of  thirteen  miles,  the  road 
hein-  verv  good,  and  eiicampetl  in  a  tmc!  bottom  ol  Powder  River. 

The  thermometer  at  sunset  was  at  6i  ,  with  an  easterly  wind  and  par- 
tially dear  sky  ;  and  the  (lav  has  been  quite  ])kasant  and  warm,  though 
:ii()re  ddudy  than  y(;sterday  ;  and  the  sun  was  fre<[uently  faint,  but  it  grew 
"nt;r  and  (dearer  towar(,l  e\  ening. 

Oitober  x'jth. — Thermometer  at  sunrise,  25".  'l"he  weather  at  daylight 
■  as  tine,  and  the  sky  without  a  cloud  ;  but  these  came  up,  or  were  formed 
v.ith  the  sun,  and  at  seven  were  thick  over  all  the  sky.  Just  now  this  ap- 
pears to  be  the  regular  course — clear  and  brilliant  during  the  night,  and 
doudy  during  the  day. 


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262  MEAfOfRS  OF  MV  UFH—JOIIX  CIIARf.F.S  FRflMOXT. 

There  is  snow  yet  visible  in  tiie  neij^hboring  mountains,  which  yester- 
day extended  along  our  route  to  the  left  in  a  lofty  and  dark-blue  ran^e, 
having  much  the  appearance  of  the  W'intl  River  Mountains.  It  is  proba- 
ble that  they  have  received  their  name  of  the  Jiluc  Mountains  from  iIk' 
dark-blue  appearance  given  to  them  by  the  pines. 

We  travelled  this  morning  across  the  affluents  to  Powder  River,  tlu: 
road  being  good,  fu-m,  and  level  ;  aiul  the  country  became  constantly  more 
pleasant  and  interesting.  The  soil  ap])eared  to  be  very  deep,  and  is  black 
and  extremely  good,  as  well  among  the  hollows  of  the  hills  on  the  elevated 
plats  as  on  the  river  bottoms  ;  the  vegetation  being  such  as  is  usually 
found  in  good  ground. 

The  following  analytical  result  shows  the  precise  qualities  of  this  soil, 
and  will  justify  to  science  the  character  of  fertility  which  the  eye  attributes 
to  it  : 

Analysis  oy  PowniR  Ri\ku  Soil. 

Silica 7--30 

Aluniiiia 6.J5 

Carhoimtc  of  lime (\}(^ 

C.uboiiato  111  lua^'iicsia 4,(1: 

Oxide  of  iron l.:o 

Organic  matter 4.50 

Water  and  loss 4.J7 

100.00 

From  the  waters  of  this  stream  the  road  ascentled  by  a  good  and  mod- 
erate ascent  to  a  dividing  ridge,  but  immediately  entered  upon  yround 
co\eretl  with  fragments  of  an  altered  siliceous  slate,  which  arc  in  many 
places  large  and  render  the  road  racking  to  a  carriage. 

In  this  rock  the  planes  of  deposition  are  distinctly  preserxed,  and  tlir 
metamorphism  is  evidently  due  to  tlu;  proximity  of  volcanic  rocks.  On 
either  side,  the  mountains  here  art;  densely  covered  with  tall  ami  hand- 
some  trees  ;  and  mingled  with  tlie  green  of  a  variety  of  [)ines  is  the  yel- 
low of  the  Europe-.n  iarch  {/^iii/t:;  larix),  which  loses  its  leaves  in  the  lall. 
From  its  present  color  we  were  enabled  to  see  that  it  forms  a  larq;e  pro- 
portion of  the  forests  on  the  mountains,  and  is  here  a  magnificent  tree,  at- 
taining sometimes  the  height  of  two  hinidred  feet,  which  I  believe  is  els;  - 
where  unknown. 

About  two  in  the  afternoon  we  reached  a  high  point  of  the  dividin.,' 
ridge,  from  which  we  obtained  a  good  \'iew  of  the  Grand  Rond — a  beau- 
tiful level  basin,  or  mountain  valley,  covered  with  good  grass  on  a  ni.:; 
soil,  abimdantly  watered,  and  surroundeil  by  high  and  well-timbered  moun 
tains  ;  and  its  name  descriptive  of  its  form-^  the  great  circle.  It  is  a  piaa 
— one  of  the  few  wh'  have  seen  in  our  journey  so  far-  -where  a  fariiKT 


S/'COX/>  EXPElllTIOX—A   FIXE  l\RM[XU  SJ'OT. 


263 


would  delight  to  (establish  himself,  if  \\v.  were  content  to  live  in  the  seclu- 
sion which  it  imposes.  It  is  ubout  twenty  miles  in  diameter,  and  may  in 
time  form  a  superb  county.  Probably  with  the  view  of  avoiding'  a  circuit, 
the  wa'^ons  had  directly  descended  into  the  Roiid  by  the  lace  of  a  hill 
so  very  rocky  and  continuously  steep  as  to  be  apparently  impracticable  ; 
ami,  followint,''  down  on  their  trail,  we  encamped  on  one  of  the  branches  of 
the  Grand  Rond  River,  imniciliately  at  the  foot  of  tlie  hill.  I  had  re- 
marked, in  descendino;^,  some  very  white  spots  glistening'-  on  the  plain, 
uiil,  '^o'wvj;  out  in  that  direction  after  we  had  encamped,  I  found  them  to 
l)t;  the  bed  of  a  dry  salt  lake,  or  marsh,  very  firm  and  bare,  which  was 
lavered  thickly  with  a  fme  white  powder  containing  a  large  quantity  of 
carbonate  of  soda  (thirty-three  in  one  hundred  parts). 

The  old  grass  had  been  lately  burnt  off  from  the  surrounding  hills,  and, 
wherever  the  fire;  had  passed,  there  was  a  recent  growth  of  strong,  green, 
and  vii^orous  grass  ;  and  the  soil  of  the  level  prairie,  which  sweeps  directly 
ii[)  to  the  foot  of  the  surrounding  mountains,  appears  to  be  very  rich,  pro- 
Jucini^r  fla.x  spontaneously  and  luxuriantly  in  various  places. 

Anai.vsis  ok   tiik  (IkaM)  RuNi)  Sou.. 

Silica 70-81 

Almiiiiui 10.97 

l.iiiu'  :iml  magnesia 1 .  38 

Clxiilc  iif  iron 2.2  I 

\\':4ttaljU'  niiittor,  partly  doconi posed 8. 16 

W.iirr  :nul  lons 5.46 

I'iiuspli.ite  uf  lime 1. 01 


The  elevation  of  this  encampment  is  two  thousand  nine  hundred  and 
lorty  feet  above  the  sea. 

October  18///. — It  began  to  rain  an  hour  before  simrise,  and  continued 
until  ten  o'clock  ;  the  sky  entirely  overcast,  and  the  temperature  at  sunrise 

We  resumed  our  journey  som(;what  later  than  usual,  travelling  in  a 
nearly  north  direction  across  this  beautiful  valley;  and  about  noon  reached 
a  i^ace  on  one  of  the  principal  streams,  where  I  had  determined  to  leave 
ilK;  emigrant  trail,  in  the  e.\pectation  of  hnding  a  more  direct  and  better 
;nad  across  the  Blue  Moimtains.  At  this  place  the  emigrants  appeared  to 
iiave  held  some  consultation  as  to  their  further  route,  and  finally  turned 
directly  off  to  the  left  ;  reaching  the  foot  of  the  mountain  in  about  three 
nr.les,  and  ascending  it  by  a  hill  as  steep  and  diflicult  as  that  by  which  we 
Had  yesterday  descended  to  the  Rond. 

Quitting,  therefore,  this  road,  which,  after  a  very  rough  crossing,  issu'^ 


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Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


33  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  873-4503 


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264 


MF.MOIRS  OF  MY  IJFE—JOHN  CHARLES  FR/iAfOMT. 


from  the  mountains  by  the  heads  of  the  Vmatilah  River,  we  continued  our 
northern  course  across  tlie  valley,  followint^  an  Indian  trail  which  had  been 
indicated  to  me  by  Mr.  Payette,  and  encamped  at  the  northern  cxtremitv 
of  the  Grand  Rond,  on  a  slough  like  stream  of  very  deep  water,  without 
any  apparent  current.  There  are  some  pines  here  on  the  low  hills  at  the 
creek  ;  and  in  the  northwest  corner  of  the  Rond  is  a  very  heavy  body  of 
timber,  which  descends  into  the  plain. 

The  clouds,  which  had  rested  very  low  along  the  mountain  sides  dur- 
ing the  day,  rose  gradually  up  in  the  afternoon  ;  and  in  the  evening  the 
sky  was  almost  entirely  clear,  with  a  temperature  at  sunset  of  47\  Some 
indifferent  observations  placed  the  camp  in  longitude  1 17"  28'  26",  latitude 
45"  26'  47"  ;  and  the  elevation  was  two  thousand  six  hundred  feet  above 
the  sea. 

Octohi-y  \c)//i.  This  morning  the  mountains  were  hidden  by  fog  :  there 
was  a  heavy  dew  during  the  night,  in  which  the  exposed  thermomrier  at 
daj'light  stood  at  32",  and  at  sunrise  the'  temperature  was  35'. 

W'e  passed  out  of  the  Grand  Rond  by  a  fine  road  along  tlie  creek, 
wiiich,  for  a  short  distance,  runs  in  a  kind  of  rocky  chasm.  Crossiivr  ;, 
low  point,  which  was  a  little  rocky,  th(.'  trail  conducted  into  the  open  vallev 
of  tlie  stream  -a  handsome  place  for  farms:  the  soil,  even  of  the  hills, 
being  rich  and  black.  Passing  through  a  point  of  pines,  which  bore  evi- 
dences of  being  much  I'recpiented  b)-  the  Indians  and  in  which  the  trees 
were  sometimes  ap[)arently  two  hundred  feet  high  and  three  to  seven  feet 
in  diameter,  we  halted  for  a  few  minutes  in  the  afternoon  at  the  foot  of  the 
Blue  Mountains,  on  a  branch  of  the  Grand  Rond  River,  at  an  elevation  nf 
two  thousand  seven  hundred  feet. 

Resuming  our  journey  we  commenced  the  ascent  ot  the  niountaiii 
through  an  open  [jine-forest  of  large  and  stalely  trei:s,  among  which  ihc 
balsam-pine  made  its  appearance  ;  the  road  lieing  good,  with  the  exception 
of  one  steep  ascent  with  a  correspomling  d(;scent,  which  might  hntli  havi 
been  easily  avoided  by  opening  a  way  for  a  short  distanci;  through  thu 
timber. 

It  would  have  been  well  luul  we  encamped  on  the  stream  where  we 
had  halted  lielow,  as  the  night  overtook  us  on  tlu;  mountain,  and  we  were 
obliged  to  encamp  without  water  and  tie  up  the  animals  to  tiie  trees  Inr 
the  night.  We  had  halted  on  a  smooth,  open  place  of  a  narrow  rid,"' 
which  descended  very  ra|)idly  to  a  ravine,  or  piny  hollow,  at  a  consider;!- 
ble  distance  below  ;  anil  it  was  quite  a  pretty  spot,  had  there  been  watir 
near.  But  the  fires  at  night  look  very  cheerless  after  a  day's  inarch  when 
there  is  no  pre[)aration  for  supper  going  on  ;  and,  after  sitting  some  tiiia 
around  the  blazing  logs,  Mr.  Preuss  anil  Carson,  with  several  others,  vol- 
unteered to  take  the  india-rubber  buckets  and  go  down  into  the  ravine  in 


!      .IS       I'l 


I 


Is 


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:NG    WATICH.  DC1:P    HAVINE   LiK   SILHI^A    NTVADA. 


1 1  W  I  III 


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SECOND  EXPEDITION— A  PERILOUS  SEARCH  FOR  \VA  lER.       265 

search  of  water.  It  was  a  very  difficult  way,  in  the  darkness,  down  the  slip- 
pery side  of  the  steep  mountain,  and  harder  still  to  climb  about  half  a  mile 
up  attain ;  but  they  found  the  water,  and  the  cup  of  coffee,  which  it  en- 
abled us  to  make,  and  bread  were  only  enjoyed  with  greater  pleasure. 

At  sunset  the  temperature  was  46° ;  the  evening  remarkably  clear  ;  and 
I  obtained  an  emersion  of  the  first  satellite,  which  does  not  give  a  good  re- 
sult, although  the  observation  was  a  very  good  one.  The  chronometric 
lonijitude  was  117"  28'  34",  latitude  45°  38'  07",  and  we  had  ascended  to 
an  elevation  of  three  thousand  eight  hundred  and  thirty  feet.  It  apoeared 
tu  have  snowed  yesterday  on  the  mountains,  their  summits  showing  very 
white  to-da)-. 

Oclober  20tk.  — There  was  a  heavy  white  frost  during  the  night,  and  at 
^unrise  the  temperature  was  1"]°. 

The  animals  had  eaten  nothing  during  the  night ;  and  we  made  an 
eady  start,  continuing  our  route  among  the  pines,  which  were  more  dense 
than  yesterday,  and  still  retained  their  magnificent  size. 

The  larches  cluster  together  in  masses  on  the  sides  of  the  mountains, 
and  their  yellow  foliage  contrasts  handsomely  with  the  green  of  the  balsam 
and  other  pines.  After  a  few  miles  we  ceased  to  see  any  pines,  and  the 
timber  consisted  of  several  varieties  of  spruce,  larch,  and  balsam-pine, 
which  have  a  regularly  conical  figure.  These  trees  appeared  from  sixty 
to  nearly  two  hundred  feet  in  height ;  the  usual  circumference  being  ten 
to  twelve  feet,  and  in  the  pines  sometimes  twenty-one  feet.  In  open 
places  near  the  summit  these  trees  became  less  high  and  more  branching, 
the  conical  form  having  a  greater  base. 

The  instrument  carriage  occasioned  much  delay,  it  being  frequently 
necessary  to  fell  trees  and  remove  the  fallen  timber.  The  trail  we  were 
tollowins^r  led  up  a  long  spur,  with  a  very  gradual  and  gentle  rise. 

At  the  end  of  three  miles  we  halted  at  an  open  place  near  the  summit 
trom  which  we  enjoyed  a  fine  view  over  the  mountainous  country  where 
wc  had  lately  travelled,  to  take  a  barometrical  observation  at  the  height  of 
i'lur  thousand  seven  hundred  and  sixty  feet. 

After  travelling  occasionally  through  open  places  in  the  forest  we  were 

obliircd  to  cut  a  way  through  a  dense  body  of  timber,  from  which   we 

emerged  on  an  open  mountain  side,  where  we  found  a  number  of  small 

springs,  and  encamped  after  a  day's  journey  of  ten  miles.     Our  elevation 

tre  was  five  thousand  feet. 

October  2\si. — There  was  a  very  heavy  white  frost  during  the  night, 
iid  the  thermometer  at  sunrise  was  30°. 

^\  e  continued  to  travel  through  the  forest,  in  which  the  road  was  ren- 

tred  difficult  by  fallen  trunks,  and  obstructed  by  many  small  trees  which 

't  was  necessary  to  cut  down.     Hut  these  are  only  accidental  difficulties, 


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266 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMOXT. 


which  could  easily  be  removed,  and  a  very  excellent  road  may  be  had 
through  this  pass,  with  no  other  than  very  moderate  ascents  or  decliviti's. 

A  laborious  day,  which  had  advanced  us  only  six  miles  on  our  road, 
brought  us  in  the  afternoon  to  an  opening  in  the  forest,  in  which  thero  was 
a  fine  mountain  meadow,  with  good  grass  and  a  large  clear-water  stream ; 
one  of  the  head  branches  of  the  Umatilah  River. 

During  this  day's  journey  the  barometer  was  broken,  and  the  elevations 
above  the  sea,  hereafter  given,  depend  upon  the  temperature  of  boiling 
water.  Some  of  the  white  spruces  which  I  measured  to-day  were  twelve 
feet  in  circumference,  and  one  of  the  larches  ten  ;  but  eight  feet  was  the 
average  circumference  of  those  measureil  along  the  road. 

I  held  in  my  hand  a  tape-line  as  I  walked  along,  in  order  to  formsonn- 
correct  idea  of  the  :.ii;c  of  the  timber.  Their  height  appeared  to  be  from 
one  hundred  to  one  hundred  and  eighty,  and  perhaps  two  hundred  feet,  and 
the  trunks  of  the  larches  were  sometimes  one  hundred  feet  without  a  limb; 
but  the  white  spruces  were  generally  covered  with  branches  nearly  to  the 
root.  All  these  trees  have  their  branches,  particularly  the  lower  ones,  de- 
clining. 

October  2id. —  The  white  frost  this  morning  was  like  snow  on  the 
ground  ;  the  ice  was  a  quarter  of  an  inch  thick  on  the  creek,  and  the  ther- 
mometer at  sunrise  was  at  20  .  But  in  a  few  hours  the  day  became  warm 
and  pleasant,  and  our  road  over  the  mountains  wa.:  delightful  and  full  ni 
enjoyment. 

The  trail  passed  sometimes  through  very  thick  young  timber,  in  which 
there  was  much  cutting  to  be  done  ;  but  after  travelling  a  fe-\v  miles  the 
mountains  became  more  bald,  and  we  reached  a  |)()int  trom  which  there 
was  a  very  ext(;nsive  view  in  the  northwest.  We  were  here  on  the  western 
verge  of  the  Blue  Moimtains,  long  sours  of  which,  very  precipitous  on  either 
side,  extended  down  into  the  valley,  the  waters  of  the  mountain  roaring; 
between  them. 

On  our  right  was  a  mountain  plateau  covered  with  a  dense  forest;  anu 
to  the  westward,  immediately  below  us,  was  the  great  Xez  Petri  (pierced 
nose)  prairie,  in  which  dark  lines  of  timber  indicated  the  course  of  many 
affluents  to  a  considerable  stream  that  was  seen  pursuing  its  way  across 
the  plain  toward  what  appeared  to  be  the  Colinnbia  River.  This  1  kneu 
to  be  the  Walahwalah  River,  and  occasional  spots  along  its  l)aiiks,  which 
resembled  clearings,  were  supposed  to  be  the  mission  or  Indian  settle- 
ments ;  but  the  weather  was  smoky  and  unfavorable  to  far  views  with  thi.- 
glass. 

The  rock  displayed  here  in  the  escarpments  is  a  compact  amorpMo,- 
trap,  which  appears  to  constitute  the  mass  of  the  Blue  Mountains  in  tt.;^ 
latitude  ;  and  all  the  region  of  country  through  which  we  have  travellcu 


\i.  5.1  Hl|.. 


SECOND  EXPEDrriON—BIG  TREES. 


267 


since  leavinjr  the  Snake  River  has  been  the  seat  of  violent  and  extensive 

i.^neous  action. 

Alont,'  the  lUirnt  River  Valley  th  •  strata  are  evidently  sedimentary 
rocks,  altered  by  the  intrusion  of  volcanic  products,  which  in  some  instances 
have  penetrated  and  essentially  changed  their  original  condition.  Along 
uur  line  of  route,  from  this  point  to  the  California  Mountains,  there  seems 
but  little  essential  change.  All  our  specimens  of  sedimentary  rocks  show 
i;;em  to  be  much  altered,  and  volcanic  productions  appear  to  prevail 
throughout  the  whole  intervening  distance. 

The  road  now  led  along  the  mountain-side,  around  heads  of  the  pre- 
ciiiiloiis  ravines  ;  and,  keeping  men  ahead  to  clear  a  road,  we  passed  alter- 
nately through  bodies  of  timber  and  small  open  prairies,  and  encamped  in 
a  lar<'e  meadow,  in  view  of  the  great  prairie  below. 

At  sunset  the  thermometer  was  at  40",  and  the  night  was  very  clear 
anil  l)ri<(ht.  Water  was  only  to  be  had  here  by  descending  a  bad  ravine, 
into  which  we  drove  our  animals,  and  had  much  trouble  with  them,  in  a 
verv  close  growth  of  small  pines.  Mr.  Preuss  had  walked  ahead,  and  did 
not  t,f('t  into  camp  this  evening.  The  trees  here  maintained  their  size,  and 
one  "I  the  black  spruces  measured  fifteen  feci  in  circumference.  In  the 
neiLjliborhood  of  the  camp  pines  have  reappeared  here  among  the  timber. 
Ocioher  22,d. — The  morning  was  very  clear ;  there  had  been  a  heavy 
white  frost  during  the  night,  and  at  sunrise  the  thermometer  was  at  31". 

After  cuuing  through  two  thick  bodies  of  timber,  in  which  I  noticed 
some  small  trees  oi  lie  in  lock  spruce  (  pcrussc),  the  forest  became  more  open, 
and  wc  had  no  longer  any  trouble  to  clear  a  way.  The  pines  here  were 
eleven  or  twelve  feet  in  circumference  and  about  one  hundred  and  ten  feet 
hi^fii,  and  ajjpeared  to  love  the  open  grounds. 

The  trail  now  led  along  one  of  the  long  spurs  of  the  mountain,  descend- 
Iol;  L^radually  toward  the  plain  ;  and,  aftor  travelling  a  few  miles,  we 
eniero[ed  finally  from  the  forest,  in  full  viewof  the  plain  below,  and  saw  the 
snowy  mass  of  Mount  Hood,  standing  high  out  above  the  surrounding 
cijuiitry,  at  a  distance  of  one  hundred  and  eighty  miles. 

The  roail  along  the  ridge  was  excellent,  and  the  grass  very  green  and 
.:;ood ;  the  old  grass  having  been  burnt  off  early  in  the  autumn.  About 
tour  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  we  reached  a  little  bottom  on  the  Walahwalah 
River,  where  \\v.  found  Mr.  Preuss,  who  yesterday  had  reached  this  place, 
and  found  himself  too  far  in  advance  of  the  camp  to  return.  The  stream 
litre  has  just  issued  from  the  narrow  ravines,  which  are  walled  with  preci- 
pices, in  which  the  rock  has  a  brown  and  more  burnt  appearance  than 
above. 

At  sunset  the  thermometer  was  at  48° ;  and  our  position  was  in  longi- 
tude ii,S"ay  39",  and  in  latitude  45°  53'  35". 


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268 


MEMOfKS  OF  MV  LIFE-^JOHN  CHARLES  FR/'.MOXT. 


The  mornint,''  was  clear,  with  a  temperature  at  sunrise  of  24".  Crossiiv 
the  river,  we  travelled  over  a  hilly  country  with  goc  J  bunch  orrass ;  the 
river  bottom,  which  generally  contains  the  best  soil  in  other  countries,  be- 
ing here  a  sterile  level  of  rock  and  pebbles.  We  had  found  the  soil  in  th,; 
Ulue  Mountains  to  be  of  excellent  quality,  and  it  appeared  also  to  be  'rood 
here  among  the  lower  hills.  Reaching  a  little  eminence,  over  whicli  tin- 
trail  passed,  we  had  an  extensive  view  along  the  course  of  the  river,  which 
was  divided  and  spread  ovi./  its  bottom  in  a  net-work  of  water,  receiving 
several  other  tributaries  from  the  mountains. 

There  was  a  band  of  several  hundred  horses  grazing  on  the  hills  about 
two  miles  ahead  ;  and  as  we  advanced  on  the  road  we  met  other  bands, 
which  Indians  were  driving  out  to  pasture  also  on  the  hills.  True  to  \u 
general  character,  the  reverse  of  other  countries,  the  hills  and  mountain , 
here  were  rich  in  grass,  the  bottoms  barren  and  sterile. 

In  six  miles  we  crossed  a  principal  fork,  below  which  the  scattered  water 
of  the  river  was  gathered  into  one  channel ;  and,  passing  on  the  way  sev- 
eral unfinished  houses,  and  scjme  cleared  patches  where  corn  and  potatcu  , 
were  cultivated,  we  reached,  in  about  eight  miles  farther,  the  missionary 
establishment  of  Dr.  Whitman,  which  consisted  at  this  time  of  one  ar^/v 
house — i.c  ,  built  of  unburnt  bricks,  as  in  Mexico. 

I  found  Dr.  V.'hitman  absent  on  a  visit  to  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia: 
but  had  the  pleasure  to  see  a  fine-looking  large  family  of  emigrants — men, 
women,  and  children  -in  robust  health,  all  indemnifying  themselves  for  pre- 
vious scanty  fare  in  a  hearty  consumption  of  potatoes,  which  are  produceti 
here  of  a  remarkably  good  quality.  We  were  disappointed  in  our  expecta- 
tion of  obtaining  corn-meal  or  flour  at  this  station,  the  mill  belongincj  to 
the  mission  having  been  lately  burnt  down  ;  but  an  abundant  supply  o:' 
excellent  potatoes  banished  regrets,  and  furnished  a  grateful  substitute  tor 
bread. 

A  small  town  of  Nez  Perce  Indians  gave  an  inhabited,  and  even  a  pop- 
ulous appearance  to  the  station  ;  and,  after  remaining  about  an  hour,  \s>- 
continued  our  route,  and  encamped  on  the  river  about  four  miles  below, 
passing  on  the  way  an  emigrant  encampment. 

Temperature  at  sunset,  49'. 

October  25M. — The  weather  was  pleasant,  with  a  sunrise  temperature 
of  36^.  Our  road  to-day  had  in  it  nothing  of  interest ;  and  the  country 
offered  to  the  eye  only  a  sandy,  undulating  plain,  through  which  a  scantily 
timbered  river  takes  its  course. 

We  halted  about  three  miles  above  the  mouth,  on  account  of  grass : 
and  the  next  morning  arrived  at  the  Nez  Perce  Fort,  one  of  the  tradinij 
establishments  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  a  few  hundred  y^irds  above 
the  junction  of  the  Walahvvalah  with  the  Columbia  River.     Here  wc  had 


\\\ 


SECOND  EXPEDITTON—NE/.  PERCfi  PORT. 


369 


the  tirst  view  of  this  river,  and  found  it  about  one  thousand  two  hundred 
vards  wicU',  and  presenLing  the  appearance  of  a  fine  navigable  stream. 

W'c  made  our  camp  in  a  httle  grove  of  willows  on  the  Walahwalah, 
which  are  the  only  trees  to  be  seen  in  the  neighborhood  ;  but  were  obliged 
to  send  the  animals  back  to  the  encampment  we  had  left,  as  there  was 
scarcely  a  blade  of  grass  to  be  found.  The  post  is  on  the  bank  of  the 
Colmiibia,  on  a  plain  of  bare  sands,  from  which  the  air  was  literally  filled 
widi  clouds  of  tlust  and  sand  during  one  of  the  few  days  we  remained 
here — this  place  being  one  of  the  several  points  on  the  river  which  are  dis- 
tinguished for  prevailing  high  winds,  which  come  from  the  sea.  The  ap- 
pearance of  the  post  and  country  was  without  interest,  except  that  we  here 
saw,  for  the  first  time,  the  great  river  on  which  the  course  of  events  for 
the  last  half-century  has  been  directing  attention  and  conferring  historical 
lame. 

The  river  is,  indeed,  a  noble  object,  anil  has  here  attained  its  full  mag- 
nitude. About  nine  miles  above,  and  in  sight  from  the  heights  about  the 
post,  is  the  junction  of  the  two  great  forks  which  constitute  the  main  stream 
-that  on  which  we  had  been  travelling  from  Fort  Hall,  and  known  by  the 
names  of  Lewis'  Fork,  Shoshonee,  and  Snake  River  ;  and  the  North  Fork, 
which  has  retained  the  name  of  Columbia,  as  being  the  main  stream. 

We  did  not  go  up  to  the  junction,  being  pressed  for  time  ;  but  the  union 
of  two  large  streams,  coming,  one  from  the  southeast  and  the  other  from 
the  northeast,  and  meeting  in  what  may  be  treated  as  the  geographical 
centre  of  the  Oregon  Valley,  thence  doubling  the  volume  of  water  to  :he 
ocean  while  opening  two  great  lines  of  communication  with  the  interior 
continent,  constitutes  a  feature  in  the  map  of  the  country  which  cannot  be 
overlooked  ;  ami  it  was  probably  in  reference  to  this  junction  of  waters 
and  these  lines  of  communication  that  this  post  was  established.  They 
;ue  important  lines,  and,  from  the  structure  of  the  country,  must  forever 
r main  so — one  of  them  leading  to  the  South  Pass  and  to  the  valley  of  the 
.Mississippi,  the  other  to  the  pass  at  the  head  of  the  Athabasca  River  and 
'.0  the  countries  drained  by  the  waters  of  the  Hudson  Ray, 

Ihe  Iiritish  fur  companies  now  use  both  lines  ;  the  Americans,  in  their 
emigration  to  Oregon,  have  begun  to  follow  the  one  which  leads  toward 
thr  United  States.  Bateaus  from  tide-water  ascend  to  the  junction,  and 
thence  high  up  the  North  Fork,  or  Columbia.  Land  conveyance  only  is 
iHcd  upon  the  line  of  Lewis'  Fork.  To  the  emigrants  to  Oregon  the  Nez 
I'crce  is  a  point  of  interest,  as  being,  to  those  who  choose  it,  the  termina- 
tion ot  their  overland  journey.  The  broad  e.xpanse  of  the  river  here  in- 
vites them  to  embark  on  its  bosom  ;  and  the  lofty  trees  of  the  forest  furnish 
the  means  of  doing  so. 

Irom  the  South  Pass  to  this  place  is  about  one  thousand  miles  ;  and 


i 


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|j'  :::nf; 


.'70  Afj-:.\/o/Rs  or  .!/)•  }.iii:-jonx  cii.\i<i.i:s  j-ri-mox r, 

as  it  is  about  the  same  distance  from  that  Pass  to  th(>  Missouri  Kivcrat 
the  mouth  of  the  Kansas,  it  may  be  assumed  that  two  thousand  miles  is  the 
ucCiS.<ary  land  travel  in  crossini;  from  the  ITniteil  States  ttj  the  I'acjiic 
Ocean  on  this  line.  From  the  mouth  of  the  Great  IMatte  it  would  be  about 
oiii'  iuuiilrfd  miles  less. 

Mr.  McKinley,  the  commantler  of  the  post,  received  us  with  !:,M-('at  civil- 
ity ;  and  l)i)th  to  myself,  and  the  heads  of  the  emii^rants  who  were  there 
at  the  time,  extended  his  hospiialil)-  in  a  comfortable  dinner  to  which  he 
invited  us. 

By  a  meridional  altitude  of  the  sun,  th(!  only  observation  that  th> 
weather  permitted  us  to  obtain,  the  mouth  (.)f  the  Walahwalah  Kiver  is  in 
latitiule  46  03'  46"  ;  and,  by  the  road  we  had  travelled,  si.\  Innulrcd  and 
twelve  miles  from  I'ort  Mall. 

At  the  time  of  our  arri\al,  a  considerabli;  body  of  the  emi;^rants,  un.lcr 
the  direction  of  Mr.  Apple^^'^ate,  a  man  of  consideralile  resolution  aiul  en- 
er^r\-,  had  nearly  completed  the  buildinj^of  a  number  of  Mackinaw  boats,  in 
which  they  pro[)Osed  to  continue  their  further  voya>^(!  (.lown  liir  ColiMiiiiia. 

I  had  se<'n,  in  descentliny  the  Walahwalah  Rive-r,  a  hne  ilrovc  of  s' v- 
eral  hundred  cattle,  which  they  had  exchanged  for  Californian  c  ittlc,  to  U- 
received  at  \'ancouver,  and  which  are  considered  a  very  inferior  breed. 
The  other  portiion  of  tin;  emijj;'ration  had  preferred!  to  complete  their  joir; 
ne\-  Iv  land  alonjj'  the  l)anks  of  the  Columbia,  taking  their  stock  and  wagons 
with  them. 

1  laviiii;;'  reinforced  our  animals  with  eight  fresh  horses,  hired  from  the 
post,  and  increased  our  stock  of  provisions  with  dried  salmon,  potatoes,  aiiii 
a  little  beef,  we  resmned  our  journey  down  the  left  bank  of  the  Columbia. 
being  guided  on  our  'oadbyan  intelligent  Indian  boy,  whom  I  had  eiii^ai,'-''.] 
to  accompany  us  as  far  as  the  Dalles. 

Idle  sketch  of  a  rock  which  we  passtnl  in  the  course  of  the  morning  i- 
annexed,  to  show  the  manner  in  which  the  basaltic  rock,  which  constitutes 
the  geological  formation  of  the  Columbia  \'alley,  now  presents  itsell. 
From  an  elevated  point  over  which  the  road  UhI,  we  obtained  another  lar 
view  of  Mount  Hood,  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  distant.  W'c  obtained 
on  the  river  bank  an  observation  of  the  sun  at  noon,  which  gave  for  the 
latitude  45"  58'  08". 

The  country  to-day  was  very  unprepossessing,  and  our  road  bad:  and 
as  we  toiled  slowly  along  through  ileep  loose  sands,  and  over  fragments 
of  black  volcanic  rock,  our  laborious  travelling  was  strongly  contrasted 
with  the  rapid  progress  of  Mr.  Applegate's  lleet  of  boats,  which  suddenlv 
came  gliding  swiftly  down  the  broail  river,  which  here  chanced  to  V 
tranquil  and  smooth.  .At  evening  we  encamped  on  the  river  bank,  where 
there  was  very  little  grass,  and   less  timber.      We  frequently  met  Indians 


■MM 


II 


HILL  OF  COLUMNAR    BASALT  ON   THE  COLUMBIA   RIVER. 


m 


^i 


.:    'l 


h\ 


i':i  .;i; 


im  I 


h  H 


Hi 


S/:COA'P   EXPEDITIO.W—TIIE   COLUMBIA    KIll.R. 


271 


on  the  road,  and  they  were  collected  at  every  favorable   spot  along  the 

river. 

October  29M. — The  road  continued  along  the  river,  and  in  the  course 
of  the  (Kiy  Mount  St.  Helens,  another  snowy  peak  of  the  Cascade  Range, 
was  visible.  We  crossed  the  Umatilah  River  at  a  fall  near  its  mouth. 
This  stream  is  of  the  same  class  as  the  Walahwalah  River,  with  a  bed  of 
volcanic  rock,  in  places  s[)lit  into  fissures.  Our  encampment  was  similar  to 
that  of  vesterda)- ;  there  was  very  little  grass,  and  no  \i  lod.  The  Indians 
broudu  us  some  pieces  for  sale,  which  were  purchasec'  to  make  our  fires. 

October  ;5i.f/.— My  observation,  our  camp  is  in  lai'' jde  45°  50'  05",  and 
lon.ijitiKlc  IK)    22'  18". 

Ihe  night  has  lieen  cold,  and  we  have  white  frost  this  morning,  with  a 
tfrnijeraturt-  at  daylight  of  25  ,  and  at  sunrise  of  24'.  The  early  morning 
was  verv  clear,  and  the  stars  bright ;  but,  as  usual,  since  we  are  on  the 
Columbia,  clouds  formed  immediately  with  the  rising  sun.  The  day  con- 
tinued fme.  the  I'^ast  being  covered  with  scattered  clouds,  but  the  West  re- 
maininL^  clear,  showing  the  remarkab'"  ;•  ne-like  peak  of  Mount  Hood 
hri'fhtlv  drawn  against  the  sk)'.  This  was  in  view  all  day  in  the  southwest, 
ii'.it  no  othtT  peaks  of  the  range  ere  visible.  Our  road  was  a  bad  one, 
, if  verv  loose  dee[)  sand. 

W'c  met  on  the  way  a  party  of  Indians  unusually  well  dressed,  wearing 
clothis  uf  eivilized  texture  and  form.  They  appeared  intelligent,  and,  in 
nur  sliijhl  intercourse,  impressed  me  with  the  belief  that  they  possessed 
>ome  aptitude  for  accpiiring  languages. 

We  continued  to  travel  along  the  river,  the  stream  being  interspersed 
with  in.uiy  sand-bars  ( it  being  the  season  of  low  water)  and  with  many 
idands,  and  an  apparently  good  navigation.  Small  willows  were  the  only 
wootl ;  rock  and  sand  the  prominent  geological  feature.  The  rock  of  this 
section  is  a  very  compact  and  tough  basalt,  occurring  in  strata  which  have 
the  a])pearance  of  being  broken  into  fragments,  assuming  the  form  of  co- 
lumnar hills,  and  appearing  always  in  escarpments,  with  the  broken  frag- 
ments strewed  at  the  base  and  over  the  adjoining  country. 

We  made  a  late  encampment  on  the  river,  and  used  to-night  Purshia 
tiiocntata  for  fire-wood.  Among  the  rocks  which  formed  the  bank,  was 
very  good  green  grass.      Latitude  45"  44'  23",  longitude  1 19"  45'  09". 

Xovcinher  \st. — Mount  Hood  is  glowing  in  the  sunlight  this  morning, 
and  the  air  is  pleasant,  with  a  temperature  of  38°.  We  continued  down 
the  river,  and,  passing  through  a  pretty,  green  valley  bounded  by  l.'.gh 
precipitous  rock,  encamped  at  the  lower  end. 

f'n  the  right  shore,  the  banks  of  the  Columbia  are  very  high  and  steep  ; 
the  river  is  one  thousand  six  hundred  and  ninety  feet  broad,  and  dark  bluffs 
"trock  give  it  a  picturesque  appearance. 


m 


!:^n" 


272 


A//-:.l/0/A'.S  OF  J/)'  IJFE—fOlIX  ClfARLRS  FRk.MOXT. 


! 


!l       I. 


liilH  !■ 


Ml  :  3; 


Novojibcr  2d. — The  river  here  entered  among-  bluffs,  Icaviin'  no  ion Ttr 
room  for  a  road  ;  and  we  according!)-  left  it,  and  took  a  more  inland  uav 
among  the  river  hills,  on  which  we  had  no  sooner  entered,  than  we  ioum! 
a  great  improvement  in  the  country.  The  sand  had  ilisappearcid,  and  tlv- 
soil  was  g-ood,  and  covered  with  excellent  grass,  although  the  surfac>;  w,;. 
broken  into  high  hills,  with  uncommonly  deep  valleys. 

At  noon  we  crossed  John  Day's  River,  a  clear  ami  beaulihil  str.-am 
•with  a  swift  current  and  a  bed  of  rolled  stones.  It  is  sunk  in  a  deep  vall(.\, 
which  is  characteristic  of  all  thestreaius  in  this  region  ;  anil  the  hill  we  di 
scended  to  reach  it,  well  des(M"ves  the  name  of  mountain.  Sonic  01  tin 
emigrants  had  encamped  on  the  river,  and  others  at  the  summit  if  ih. 
farther  hill,  the  ascc  t  of  wdiich  had  probably  cost  their  wagons  a  dav'> 
labor  ;  and  others  again  had  halted  for  the  night  a  few  miles  beyond,  when 
they  had  slept  without  water. 

We  also  encam[)ed  in  a  grassy  hollow  without  water  ;  but  as  wc  ha. 
been  forewarned  of  this  pi'  ation  by  the  guide,  the  animals  had  all  hccn 
watered  at  the  river,  and  ■■.  j  had  brought  with  us  a  suftlcient  ([uantitv  fo; 
the  night. 

Noi'cnibi-y  3c/.  -  -After  two   hours'  ride  through  a  fertile,  hilly  comU!-\ 
covered  as  all  the  U[)land   here   ap[)ears  to  l)e  with  good  green  grass,  ui 
descended  again  into  the  river  bottom,  along  which  we  resumed  our  stcrili- 
road,  and  in  about  four  miles  reached  the  ford  of  the  Fall   River  (A'/:-/.; 
a7ix  Chutes'),  a  considerable  tributary  to  the  Columbia.     We  had  Inaril,  o: 
reaching  the  Ne/  Perce  Fort,  a  rc^petition  of  the  account  in  regard  to  the  ii::- 
settled  character  of  the  Columbia  Indians  at  the  present  time  ;  and  to  on; 
little  party  they  had  at  various  [)oints  manifested  a  not  very  friendly  dispo 
sition,  in  several  attempts  to  steal  our  horses.     At  this  place  I  expected  t' 
find  a  batlh'-disposed   band,  who   had   plundered  a  party  of  fourlecn  em  ■ 
grant  men  a  few  davs  before,  and  taken  away  their  horses  ;   aiul  according;!' 
we  made  the  necessary  [)reparations  for  our  security,  l)ut  happily  met  wit 
no  difficulty. 

The  river  was  high,  di\-id(ul  into  several  arms,  with  a  rocky  island  at  :: 
outlet  into  the  Columbia,  which  at  this  place  it  rivalled  in  size,  and  appa 
ently  deservcul  its  highly  characteristic  nanie,  which  is  received  trom  oii!' 
of  its  man)-  falls  some  forty  miles  up  the  river.  It  entered  the  Coliiinbia 
with  a  ro;u-  t)f  falls  and  ra[Mtls,  aiid  is  probably  a  favorite;  fishing  statior 
among  the  Iiulians,  with  wlu)m  both  banks  of  the  river  were  populous: 
but  the)-  scarcely  paid  anv  attention  to  us. 

The;  ford  was  ver)-  diftlcult  at  this  time,  and,  had  they  entertained  ai;; 
bad  intentions,  they  were  offered  a  good  opportunity  to  carry  them  out.  i- 
I  rode  dir(;ctly  into  the  river,  and  during  \\v\  crossing  the  howit/cr  •>  i- 
occasionally  several  feet  under  water,  and  a  number  of  the  men  appearca 


l_i;  no  i;iiii^cr 
;  inland  wa\ 
an  wi'  loiiii'! 
vva\.  and  tlv 
:  suiiacv'  \v,;~ 


lit, 
li  'JS 


I 


^^5 


m  'I  I' 
1^  mh\i 


H   .' 


CKUSSINO   TMK    FORD   AT   FALL    HIVFR. 


:t 


I 


ftifi 


l!«  HI'? 


ih 


►  i 


fc,  ■  .11 


I 


t 


i'  !l 


^1  ii- 


SECOND  EXPEDFTrON— FALLS   OE   TJLE   COLUMBIA. 


273 


to  be  more  often  below  than  above.  Our  guide  was  well  acquainted  with 
the  ford,  and  we  succeeded  in  getting-  everything  safe  over  to  the  left  bank. 
We  delayed  here  only  a  short  time  to  put  the  gun  in  order,  and  ascending 
a  loni''  mountain  hill,  left  both  rivers,  and  resumed  our  route  again  among 
the  interior  hills. 

The  roar  of  the  Falls  of  the  Columbia  is  heard  from  the  heights,  where 
wc  halted  a  few  moments  to  enjoy  a  fine  view  of  the  river  below.  In  the 
season  of  hij^di  water  it  would  be  a  very  interesting  object  to  visit,  in  order 
to  witness  what  is  related  of  the  annual  submerging  of  the  fall  under  the 
waters  which  back  up  from  the  basin  below,  constituting  a  great  natural 
lock  at  this  [)lace.  But  time  had  become  an  object  of  serious  consideration, 
,inil  the  I-"alls,  in  their  present  state,  had  been  seen  and  described  by  many. 
After  a  day's  journey  of  seventeen  miles,  we  encamped  among  the  hills 
on  a  litde  clear  stream,  where,  as  usual,  the  Indians  immediately  gathered 
round  us.  Among  them  was  a  very  old  man,  almost  blind  from  age,  with 
Ion"'  and  very  white  hair.  I  happened,  of  my  own  accord,  to  give  this  old 
man  a  present  of  tobacco,  and  was  struck  with  the  impression  which  my 
iinpropitiated  notice  made  on  the  Indians,  who  appeared  in  a  remarkable 
manner  acquainted  with  the  real  value  of  goods,  and  to  understand  the 
(■(luivalents  of  trade. 

At  evening  one  of  them  spoke  a  few  words  to  his  people,  and,  telling 
me  that  we  need  entertain  no  uneasiness  in  regard  to  our  animals,  as  none 
oftheni  would  be  disturbed,  they  went  all  quietly  away.  In  the  morning 
when  they  ati^ain  came  to  the  camp,  I  expressed  to  them  the  gratification 
we  felt  at  their  reasonable  conduct,  making  them  a  present  of  some  large 
knives  and  a  few  smaller  articles. 

November  \th. — The  road  continued  among  the  hills,  and,  reaching  an 
miiunce,  we  saw  before  us,  in  a  little  green  valley  watered  by  a  clear 
-tream,  a  tolerably  large  valley  through  which  the  trail  passed. 

In  comparison  with  the  Indians  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  and  the  great 
I  astern  [ilain,  these  are  disagreeably  dirty  in  their  habits.  Their  huts  were 
mwdcd  with  half-naked  women  and  children,  and  the  atmosphere  within 
mything  but  pleasant  to  persons  who  had  just  been  riding  in  the  fresh 
mnraiiinr  air,  We  were  somewhat  amused  with  the  scanty  dress  of  one 
voman,  who,  in  common  with  tlu;  others,  rushed  out  of  the  huts  on  our 
inival,  and  who,  in  default  of  other  covering,  used  a  child  for  a  fig-leaf. 

Ihc:  road  in  about  half  an  hour  passed  near  an  elevated  point,  from 
which  we  overlooked  the  valley  of  the  Columbia  for  many  miles,  and  saw 
111  tlic  'Hstancc  several  houses  surrounded  by  fuilds,  which  a  chief,  who  had 
iiccoinpanied  us  from  the  village,  pointed  out  to  us  as  th<:  Methodist  Mis- 
sionary Station. 

In  a  lew  miles  we  descended  to  the  river,  which  we  reached  at  one  o) 


I  i' 


M;    ii   1 


#t 


y^ 


!'   ; :    ■!• 


M'    H 


!-l 


874 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  f.lFE    JOIIX  CHARLES  FREMOXT. 


its  remarkably  interestint^^  Icaturcs,  known  as  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia 
The  whole  volume  of  the  river  at  this  place  passed  between  the  walls  oi  a 
chasm,  which  has  the  appearance  of  haviny  been  rent  through  iiu;  basaltic 
strata  which  form  the  valley  rock  of  the  region.  At  the  narrowest  place 
we  found  the  breadth,  l)y  measurement,  fifty-eight  yards,  anil  tlu;  avera  e 
height  of  the  walls  abo\'e  the  water  twenty-five  feet ;  forming  a  troiKrh  be,. 
tween  the  rocks-  -whi:nre  the  name,  probably  applied  by  a  Canadian  vova 
geur. 

The  mass  of  water  in  the  present  low  stale  of  the  river,  passi;.!  swiitiv 
between,  deep  and  black,  and  curled  into  many  small  whirlpools  and  cdiui 
ter-currents,  but  unbroken  by  foam  and  so  still  that  scarcely  the  sound  of 
a  ripple  was  heard.  The  rock,  for  a  considerable  ilistance  from  llu;  river. 
was  worn  over  a  large  portion  of  its  surface  into  circular  holes  and  well- 
like  cavities  by  the  abrasion  of  the  river,  which,  at  the  season  of  hi^rh 
waters,  is  spread  out  over  the  adjoining  bottoms. 

In  the  recent  passage  through  this  chasm,  ;in  unfortunate  event  had  oc- 
curred to  .Mr.  iXpplegate's  party,  in  the  loss  of  one  of  their  boats,  which 
had  been  carried  under  water  in  tlu;  niitlst  of  the  Dalles,  and  two  (if  Mr. 
Applegate's  children  and  ont;  man  drowned.  This  misfortune  was  attri- 
buted only  to  want  of  skill  in  the  steersman,  as  at  this  season  there  is  iio 
impediment  to  navigation  ;  althourdi  the  place  is  entirely  impassable  at 
high  water,  when  boats  pass  safely  over  the  great  falls  above,  in  the  sub- 
merged state  in  which  they  then  fmd  themselves. 

The  basalt  here  is  precisely  the  same  as  that  which  constitutes  the  rock 
of  the  valley  higher  up  the  Cohnnbia,  being  vi-ry  compact,  with  a  tew 
round  cavities. 

We  passed  rapidly  three  or  four  miles  down  the  level  vallev,  ami  en- 
camped near  the  mission.  The  character  of  the  forest  growth  heic 
changed,  and  we  found  ourselves,  with  pleasure,  again  among  oaks  and 
other  forest-trees  of  tlu;  East,  to  which  we  had  long  been  strangers ;  and 
the  hospitable  and  kind  reception  with  which  we  were  welcomed  aninn<:[ 
our  country-people  at  the  mission,  aidetl  the  momentary  illusion  of  home. 

Two  good-looking  wooden  dwcdling'-houses  and  a  larg<-'  school-house, 
with  stables,  barn  and  garden,  and  large  cleared  fields  between  the  houses 
and  the  river  bank,  on  which  were  scattc-red  the  wootlen  huts  of  an  Imiian 
village,  gave  to  the  valley  the  cheerful  and  busy  air  of  civilization,  and  had 
in  our  eyes  an  appearance  of  abimdant  and  enviable  comfort. 

Our  land  journey  found  here  its  western  termination.  The  delay  in- 
volved in  getting  our  camp  to  the  right  bank  of  the  Columbia,  and  in  open- 
ing a  road  through  the  continuous  forest  to  X'anrouver,  rendered  a  journey 
along  the  river  impracticable  ;  and  on  this  side  the  usual  road  across  the 
moimtain  recpiired   strong  and    fresh   anim;ds,  there   being  an  interval  ol 


tlu'  rock 
ih  a  tew 


ami  i;n- 


i:lT 


o 


ah  h 
iks  ami 


'crs  ;  and 
anion;^^ 
■  home. 
il-h(Hise, 
|he  housis 
ln<ii:ui 


an 


11,  am 


had 


delay  in- 
1  in  open- 


a  iourn' 


.across 
liitcrv 


'■y 

the 
al  of 


H% 


li 


111 


t  Still . 


» PI 


■USED   A  CHILD    yoH   A    FICi    LEAF.' 


V3  TP 


S''* 


•'■M    »•; 


T' 


# 


three 

(liarel 
waial 
lie  m 
point 


ti'.e  m 

t!ie  In 

\'anco 

and  St 

;he  ca 

v()_\'ag< 

s(f!t",  w 

In, 

v,,th  in 

their  e 

on  the 

Tinanei 

instrum 

l-anied  , 

^raiits  1 

b}-  wate 

iiarked 

furniture 

For 

'>!}■  \ery 

'Ottoms 

Cascade 

■"lis  shu: 

liioiisanc 

;!ori'  mo 

Alter 

'lion;'  th( 

au:|  beer 

salmon,  v 

''■■'-■ad,  CO 

'  lie  cano 
tiic  siiore 
iirst  of  w; 
'■  'ilsoine  I 


SECOXD  F.XPEDrnON— TRAVELLING   BY  WATER. 


275 


three  days  in  wliich  they  could  obtain  no  food.  I  therefore  wrote  imme- 
iliately  to  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  directing  him  to  abandon  the  carts  at  the  Walah- 
wa'iah  Missionary  Station,  and,  as  soon  as  the  necessary  pack-saddles  could 
\)v  made,  which  his  party  required,  meet  me  at  the  Dalles,  from  which 
iiiiint  1  proposed  to  commence  our  homeward  journey. 

The  day  after  our  arrival  being  Sunday,  no  business  could  be  done  at 
li-f  mission  ;  but  on  Monday  Mr.  Perkins  assisted  me  in  procuring  from 
tlie  Indians  a  large  canoe,  in  which  I  designed  to  complete  our  journey  to 
\'ancor.vcr,  where  I  expected  to  obtain  the  necessary  supply  of  provisions 
and  stores  for  our  winter  journey.  Three  Indian;  from  the  family  to  whom 
ihe  canoe  belonged  were  engaged  to  assist  in  working  her  during  the 
\ova(,fc,  and,  with  them,  our  water  party  consisted  of  Mr.  Preuss  and  my- 
st-h",  with  Hernicr  and  Jacob  Dodson. 

In  charge  of  the  party  which  was  to  remain  at  the  Dalles  I  left  Carson, 
with  instructions  to  occupy  the  people  in  making  pack-saddles  and  refitting 
tht,ir  equipage.  The  village  from  which  we  were  to  take  the  canoe  was 
on  the  right  bank  oS.  the  river,  about  ten  miles  below,  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Tinanens  Creek  ;  and  wliile  Mr.  Preuss  proceeded  down  the  river  with  the 
instruments  in  a  little  canoe  paddled  by  two  Indians,  Mr.  Perkins  accom- 
!  anied  me  with  the  remainder  of  the  party  by  land.  The  last  of  the  emi- 
grants had  just  left  the  Dalles  at  the  time  of  our  arrival,  travelling  some 
bv  water  and  others  by  land,  making  ark-like  rafts,  on  which  they  had  em- 
barked their  faniilies  and  household,  with  their  large  wagons  and  other 
furniture,  while  their  stock  were  driven  along  the  shore. 

For  about  five  miles  below  the  Dalles,  the  river  is  narrow  and  proba- 
bly very  deep  ;  but  during  this  distance,  it  is  somewhat  open  with  grassy 
liottoms  on  the  left.  Entering,  then,  among  the  lower  mountains  of  the 
Cascade  range,  it  assumes  a  general  character,  and  high  and  steep  rocky 
bills  shut  it  in  on  either  side,  rising  abruptly  in  places  to  the  height  of  one 
ihousand  five  hundred  feet  above  the  water,  and  gradually  acquiring  a 
wrc  mountainous  character  as  the  river  approaches  the  Cascades. 

.\lter  an  hour's  travel,  when  the  sun  was  nearly  down,  we  searched 
alon"^  the  shore  for  a  pleasant  place,  and  halted  to  prepare  supper.  We 
iial  been  well  supplied  bv  our  friends  at  the  mission  with  delicious  salted 
sar.non.  which  had  been  taken  at  the  fattest  season  ;  also  with  potatoes, 
bread,  coffee,  and  sugar. 

We  were  delighted  at  a  change  in  our  mode  of  travelling  and  living. 
liie canoe  sailed  smoothly  down  the  river;  at  night  we  encamped  upon 
'ic  shore,  and  a  plentiful  supply  of  comfortable  provisions  supplied  the 
''stnt  wants.  We  enjoyed  the  contrar.c  which  it  presented  to  our  late 
'■'ilsome  marchings,  our  night  watchings,  and  our  frequent  privation  of 
'  '^'b    We  were  a  motley  group,  but  all  happy  :  three  unknown   Indians ; 


I 


u 


if  ' 


nu 


\'  I 


i;  i 


ii  i- 


i 

i 

t 

■ 

.  .  Ii; 

{,  [\  I    ii; 

.-!   ■'    !■ 

■ 

.76 


MF.MO/RS  OF  .!/)■  I.I FE-JOll X  CHARLES  FR I.MOXT. 


ncli, 


Jacob,  a  colored  man  ;   Mr.    I'reuss,    a   German  ;    lU-niifr,   crcoli;  !•>, 
and  myself. 

Beinj^r  now  upon  tlie  ofrouiid  explored  hy  the  South  .Sra  cxniHiitiou 
under  Captain  Wilkes,  ami  havim^  accom[)Iis]ied  the  object  of  unitiiv  iin 
survey  with  his,  and  thus  presentinj^  a  connected  e.xploratioii  from  thi 
Mississipjji  to  the  Pacific,  and  the  winter  beini^'  at  hand,  1  decinrd  it  ivr- 
essary  to  economize  time  by  voyaL^ini^''  in  the  nii^dit,  as  is  ciistoinarv  iicn 
to  avoid  the  hiyh  winds,  which  rise  with  the  morniny.  and  decline  with  v^>- 

AccordinL,d\',  after  an  hour's  halt,  we  again  embarked,  and  resumed  our 
pleasant  voyage  down  the  river.  The  wintl  rose  to  a  gaK-  after  scvinil 
hours ;  but  the  moon  was  ve;r\-  bright,  and  the  wind  was  fair,  am!  t!v 
canoe  glanced  ra[iidly  down  the  stream,  the  waves  breaking  into  fuai;- 
alongside  :  and  our  night  voyage,  as  the  wind  bore  us  rapidly  aloiiL^r  be- 
tween the  dark  mountains,  was  v»-ild  and  interesting,  .\bout  niidni^dit  ur 
jnit  to  the  shore  on  a  rocky  beach,  behind  which  was  a  ilark-lookiii;,^  pin. 
forest.  We  built  up  large  fires  among  the  rocks,  which  were  in  lar.,'r 
masses  round  about  ;  antl,  arranging  our  blankets  in  the  most  shcltcrc ; 
places  we  could  fmd,  passed  a  delightful  night. 

After  an  early  breakfast,  at  daylight  we  resumed  our  journev.  tiv 
weather  being  clear  and  beautiful,  and  the  river  smooth  and  still.  0: 
either  side  the  mountains  are  all  pine-timbered,  rocky,  and  high.  W'ewer 
now  approaching  one:  of  the  marked  features  of  the  Lower  Columbia,  uiitr 
the  river  forms  a  great  cascade,  with  a  series  of  rapids,  in  breaking  throii:;'. 
the  range  of  mountains  to  which  the  lofty  peaks  of  ?iIount  llnod  and  S; 
Helens  belong,  and  which  rise  as  great  pillars  of  snow  on  either  side  nf 
the  passage. 

The  main  branch  of  the  Sacramento  River,  and  the  I'laDialh.  issue;. 
cascades  from  this  range  ;  and  the  Columbia,  breaking  throuL;h  it  in  as..  • 
cession  of  cascades,  gives  the  idea  of  cascades  to  the  whole  rani,''e :  ami 
hence  the  name  of  the  Casc  adf.  R.wok,  which  it  bears,  and  distinLjiiishe.s 
it  from  the  Coast  Range  lower  down.  In  making  a  short  tnrn  to  thesouih, 
the  river  forius  the  cascades  in  breaking  over  a  point  of  agglomerati'i 
masses  of  rock,  leaving  a  handsome  bay  to  the  right,  with  several  rocky 
pine-covered  islands,  and  the  mountains  sweep  at  a  distanr<>  around  a  cov 
where  several  small  strc^ams  enter  the  bay. 

In  less  than  an  hour  we  halted  on  the  left  bank,  about  live  minat.< 
w.ilk  above  the  cascades,  \vher(;  there  were  several  Indian  huts,  and  wheR' 
our  guides  signilied  it  was  cnslomary  to  hire  Indians  to  assist  in  iiia.<in,' 
\.\\Ki  portage.  When  trav(dling  with  a  boat  as  light  as  a  canoe,  wiiicii  r.^ay 
easily  Ije  carrieil  on  the  shoulders  of  the  Indians,  this  is  much  the  better 
side  of  the  river  for  the  portage,  as   the  ground  here  is  very  '■^^i'^^^-  'I'l" 


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SHOOTirD   RAPIDS  1    )WER   ;',0LUMB1A. 


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SF.CO.VD  EXPEDITION— TtfE  CASCADE  RANGE. 


an 


level,  beinp  a  handsome  bottom,  which  I  remarked  was  covered  {as  jveis 
^low  dhi-'ays  the  case  along  tke  river)  with  a  growth  of  green  and  fresh- 

lookini;  grass. 

It  was  \o\v^  before  we  could  come  to  an  understanding  with  the  In- 
aiiiiis ;  hut  at  length,  when  they  had  first  received  the  price  of  their  as- 
sistant: in  goods,  they  went  vigorously  to  work  ;  and  in  a  shorter  time 
than  had  l)i:eii  oc.-:upied  in  making  our  arrangements,  the  canoe,  instru- 
iiunts,  and  I>aggage,  were  carried  through  (a  distance  of  about  half  a  mile) 
to  the  hank  below  the  main  cascade,  where  we  again  embarked,  the  water 
l,ein<f  white  with  foam  among  ugly  rocks,  and  boiling  into  a  thousand 
whirlpools.  The  boat  passed  with  great  rapidity,  crossing  and  recrossing 
in  the  eddies  of  the  current. 

After  passing  through  about  two  miles  of  broken  water,  we  ran  some 
wild-looking  rapids,  which  are  called  the  Lower  Rapids,  being  the  last  on 
tho  river,  which  below  is  tranquil  and  smooth — abroad,  magnificent  stream. 
On  a  low  broad  point  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river,  at  the  lower  end  of 
these  rapids,  were  pitched  many  tents  of  the  emigrants,  who  were  waiting 
here  for  their  friends  from  above,  or  for  boats  and  provisions  which  were 
expected  from  Vancouver. 

In  our  passage  down  the  rapids,  I  had  noticed  their  camps  along  the 
hhore,  or  transporting  their  goods  across  the  portage.  This  portage 
makes  a  head  of  navigation,  ascending  the  river.  L  s  about  two  miles  in 
leiiL^th  ;  and  above,  to  the  Dalles,  is  forty-five  miles  of  smooth  and  good 
navigation. 

We  glided  on  without  further  interruption  between  very  rocky  and 
high  steep  mountains,  which  sweep  along  the  river  valley  at  a  little  dis- 
tance, covered  with  forests  of  pine,  and  showing  occasionally  lofty  escarp- 
ments of  red  rock.  Nearer,  the  shore  is  bordered  by  steep  escarped  hills, 
and  huge  vertical  rocks,  from  which  the  waters  of  the  mountain  reach  the 
river  in  a  variety  of  beautiful  falls,  sometimes  several  hundred  feet  in 
height;  occasionally  along  the  river  occurred  pretty  bottoms,  covered  with 
ib'  greenest  verdure  of  the  spring.  To  a  professional  farmer,  however, 
it  does  not  offer  many  places  of  sufficient  extent  to  be  valuable  for  agricul- 
ture ;  and  after  passing  a  few  miles  below  the  Dalles,  I  had  scarcely  seen 
;i  place  on  the  south  shore  where  wagons  could  get  to  the  river.  The 
lieauty  of  the  scenery  was  heightened  by  the  continuance  of  very  delightful 
weather,  resembling  the  Indian  summer  of  the  Atlantic. 

k  few  miles  below  the  cascades  we  passed  a  singular  isolated  hill ;  and 
in  the  course  of  the  next  six  miles  occurred  five  very  pretty  falls  from  the 
icights  on  the  left  bank,  one  of  them  being  of  a  very  picturesque  char- 
acter ;  and  toward  sunset  we  reached  a  remarkable  point  of  rocks,  dis- 
tinguished, on  account  of  prevailing  high  winds,  and  the  delay  it  frequently 


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878 


.i//..i/f)/A'.s  OF  Afv  iirr.   joifx  ciiari i:s  hia'.Moxi: 


occa^iions  to  the  canoe  na\•i;,^■ltioIl,  hy  tlu"  name  of  f'^?/^  Ilorn.  It  bordfrs 
the  river  in  a  hii^h  wall  of  rock,  which  comes  boldly  down  into  deep  water 
and  in  violent  j^ales  down  the  river,  and  from  the  opposite  shore,  which  is 
the  prevailinj^r  direction  of  stronLj  winds,  the  water  is  dashed  ayaiiist  it 
with  considerable  violence.  It  appears  to  form  a  serious  obstacle  to  catiDc 
travtlling  ;  and  I  was  informed  by  I\Ir.  Perkins,  that  in  a  voyas^rc  ,1,,  ([,,. 
river  he  had  been  detainetl  two  weeks  at  this  place,  and  was  finally  ubliwd 
to  return  to  \  ancouver. 

The  winds  of  this  region  tleservc  a  particular  study.  '\\\v.\  blow  in  cur- 
rents, which  show  them  to  be  governed  by  fixed  laws  ;  and  il  is  a  probkm 
how  far  thi'y  may  come  from  the  mountains,  or  from  the  ocean,  ihrou'h 
the  breaks  in  the  mountains  which  let  out  the  river. 

The  hills  here  had  lost  somcthin:^-  of  their  rocky  appearand',  and  had 
already  bt-j^uui  to  declini;.  .\s  the  sun  went  tlown,  we  searched  alun-  th' 
river  for  an  inviting;  spot;  and,  frndiuL;' a  (dean  rocky  beach,  wIvto  sdnv.' 
lar^c;  dry  trees  were  lyin^"^  on  the  L,rround,  we  ran  our  boat  to  the  shop'; 
and,  after  another  comfortable  supper,  ploULjhed  our  way  alon;^  the  river 
in  darkness. 

Heavy  clouds  covered  the  sky  this  eveninL,^  and  the  wintl  began  lu 
sweep  in  gusts  among  the;  tr(;t;s,  as  if  ])atl  weather  were  coining.  .\s  wr 
ailvanced,  the  liills  on  both  sides  grew  constantly  K)wer  ;  on  the  ris^dit.  r:  • 
treating  from  tlu;  shore,  and  lorming  a  somewhat  extensive  bottom  ofin 
termingled  prairi''  and  wooded  land.  In  tb.e  conrse  ot  :\  few  hours.  a;i'.i 
oppodle  to  a  small  stream  coming  in  from  the  north,  callet!  the  'f;\ 
I'rairii-  Kiver,  the  highlaiuls  on  the  left  declined  to  the  [)lains,  and  thro- 
or  four  miles  below  ilisappeared  entirely  on  both  sides,  and  the  river  en- 
tered the  low  country. 

The  river  hatl  gradually  expanded  ;  and  when  we  (Mnergi  1!  from  tiv 
highlands,  the  opi)osite  shore;  were  so  distant  as  to  appear  intlistinc!  ir, 
the  un(;ertaint\-  of  the  light.  About  ten  o'cdock  our  pilots  hailed,  apnar- 
entlv  to  confer  about  the  course;  ;  and,  .after  .a  1  tie  hesitation,  piilieu 
direclK'  across  .an  open  exi)ansion  df  the  ri\(.'r.  '^  lere  the  waves  wen.' 
sonK!what  rough  tor  a  canoe,  the  wind  blowing  ve  Iresh.  Much  to  (n:;- 
surprise,  a  few  minutes  afterward  we  ran  aground.  kicking  olt  our  boa;. 
we  made  repeatttd  trials  at  various  places  to  cross  \  at  appeared  to  Ira 
point  of  shitting  sandbars,  wdien-  we  had  attempted  t  shorten  the  \va\  b; 
a  cut-off  ]•  inalU  ,  one  of  our  Indians  got  intothe  w  um-.  and  waded  about 
until  he  found  a  channel  sufllciently  deep,  through  which  w(;  wound  alon.; 
after  him,  antl  in  a  few  minutes  aijain  entered  the  deep  water  below. 

As  we  paddled  rapidly  down  the  river,  we  heard  the  noise  ol  a  saw-mil: 
at  work  on  the  right  bank  ;  and,  letting  our  boat  float  (luietly  down,  w 
listened   with   pleasure  to  the  unusual  sounds  ;   and  before  midnight  en- 


NIGHT  ON    THE    LOWER   COLUMBIA 


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SJ-:C0A7)  EXPEDITION— CAMPED   AT  FORT  VAXCOl'VER.  .-79 

camped  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  about  a  mile  above  P'ort  Vancouver. 
Our  fine,  dry  weather  had  given  place  to  a  dark,  cloudy  night.  At  mid- 
nisrht  it  beo'an  to  rain  ;  and  we  found  ourselves  suddenly  in  the  gloomy 
and  humid  season  which,  in  the  narrow  region  lying  between  the  Pacific 
and  the  Cascade  Mountains,  and  for  a  considerable  distance  along  the 
coast,  supplies  the  place  of  winter. 

In  the  morning,  the  first  object  that  attracted  my  attention  was  the 
bark  Columbia,  lying  at  anchor  near  the  landing.  She  was  about  to 
start  on  her  voyage  to  England,  and  was  now  ready  for  sea ;  being  de- 
tained onlv  in  waiting  the  arrival  of  the  express  batteaus,  which  descend 
tiie  Columbia  and  its  north  fork  with  the  overland  mail  from  Canada  and 
Hudson's  Bay,  which  had  been  delayed  beyond  their  usual  time. 

1  immediately  waited  upon  Dr.  McLaughlin,  the  executive  officer  of  the 
Hudson  Hay  Company  in  the  territory  west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  who 
received  mc  with  the  courtesy  and  hospitality  for  which  he  has  been  emi- 
nently distinguished,  and  which  makes  a  forcible  and  delightful  impres- 
sion on  a  traveller  from  the  long  wilderness  from  which  we  had  issued.  I 
was  immediately  supplied  by  him  with  the  necessary  stores  and  provisions 
to  relit  and  support  my  party  in  our  contemplated  winter  journey  to  the 
States;  and  also  with  a  Mackinaw  boat  and  canoes,  manned  with  Canadian 
ind  Irociuois  voyageurs  and  Indians,  for  tludr  transportation  to  the  Dalles 
of  the  Columbia. 

In  addition  to  his  efficient  kindness  in  furnishing  me  with  these  neces- 
sary supplies,  I  received  from  him  a  warm  and  gratifying  sympathy  in  the 
sulTerini;-  which  his  great  experience  led  him  to  antici|)ate  for  us  in  our 
homeward  journey,  and  a  letter  of  reconiinendation  and  cretlit  for  any  of- 
ficers of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company  into  whose  p'osts  we  might  be  driven 
bv  unexpected  misfortime. 

or  course  the  future  supplies  for  my  party  were  paid  for,  bills  on  the 
I'lOvernment  of  the  United  States  being  readily  taken  ;  but  every  hospitable 
attention  was  extended  to  me,  and  I  accepted  an  imitation  to  take  a  room 
intbi;  fort,  "  and  /o  make  myself  at  Jiomc  ■zv/iile  /  s/ayet/." 

I  found  many  American  emigrants  at  the  fort ;  others  had  already 
crossed  the  ri\  .t  into  their  land  of  [)romise — the  W'alahmette  Valley. 
Others  were  daily  arriving;  and  all  of  them  had  been  furnished  with 
shelter,  so  tar  as  it  could  be  afforded  by  the  buildings  connected  with  the" 
establishment.  Necessary  clothing  and  provisions  (the  latter  to  bo  after- 
\varil  returned  ir.  kind  from  the  produce  of  their  lalior)  were  also  furnished. 
Tiiis  friendly  assistance  was  of  very  great  value  tc  the  emigrants,  whose 
families  were  otherwise  exposed  to  much  suffering  in  the  winter  rains, 
which  had  now  commenced  ;  at  the  same  time  that  they  were  in  want  of 
a'li  the  common  necessaries  of  life. 


■'il!  ■ 
1: 


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I; 


!:  II  ■li 


380 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LTFR—JOHN  CHARLES  FRfaiONT. 


Those  who  had  taken  a  water  conveyance  at  the  Nez  Perce  Fort  con- 
tinued to  arrive  safely,  with  no  other  accident  than  has  been  already  men- 
tioned. The  party  which  had  passed  over  the  Cascade  Mountains  were 
reported  to  have  lost  a  number  of  their  animals  ;  and  those  who  had  driven 
their  stock  down  the  Columbia,  had  brought  them  safely  in,  and  found  for 
them  a  ready  and  very  profitable  market,  and  were  already  proposinir  to 
return  to  the  States  in  the  spriny^  for  another  supply. 

In  the  space  of  two  days  our  preparations  had  been  completed,  and  wo 
were  ready  to  set  out  on  our  return.  It  would  have  been  very  s^rratifyinir 
to  have  jrone  down  to  the  Pacific,  and,  solely  in  the  interest  and  in  the  love 
of  geography,  to  have  seen  the  ocean  on  the  western  as  well  as  on  the 
eastern  siile  of  the  continent,  so  as  to  give  a  satisfactory  completeness  to 
the  geographical  picture  which  had  been  formed  in  our  minds ;  but  the 
rainy  season  had  now  regularly  set  in,  and  the  air  was  filK-.il  with  fogs  and 
rain,  which  left  no  beauty  in  any  scenerj-,  an<.l  obstructed  observations. 

The  object  of  my  instructions  had  been  entirely  fulfilled  in  havinj.^  con- 
nected our  reconnoissaiice  with  the  surveys  of  Captain  Wilkes ;  and  al- 
though it  would  have  been  agreeable  and  satisfactory  to  terminate  here 
also  our  ruder  astronomical  observations,  I  was  not,  lor  such  a  reason,  justi- 
fied to  make  a  delay  in  waiting  for  favorable  weather. 

Near  sunset  of  the  loth,  the  boats  left  the  fort,  and  encamped  after 
making  only  a  few  miles.  Our  flotilla  consisted  of  a  Mackinaw  barge  and 
three  canoes  -one  of  them  that  in  which  we  had  descended  the  river;  and 
a  party  in  all  of  twenty  men. 

One  of  the  emigrants,  Mr.  Peter  II.  Burnet,  of  Missouri,  who  had  left 
his  family  and  property  at  the  Dalles,  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity 
afforded  by  the  return  of  our  boats  to  bring  them  tlown  to  Vancouver. 
This  gentleman,  as  well  as  the  Messrs.  Applegate,  and  others  oftheemi 
grants  whom  I  saw,  possessed  intelligence  and  character,  with  the  morai 
and  intellectual  stamina,  as  well  as  the  enterprise,  which  gi"e  solidity  and 
resjjectability  to  the  foundation  of  colonies. 

November  1  \tli.  The  morning  was  rainy  and  misty.  We  did  not  move 
with  the  practised  celerity  of  my  own  camp  ;  and  it  was  near  nine  o'clock 
when  our  motley  crew  had  finished  their  breakfast  and  were  ready  to  start. 
Once  afloat,  however,  they  worked  steatlily  and  well,  and  we  advanced  at 
a  good  rate  up  the  river  ;  and  in  the  afternoon  a  breeze  sprung  up,  which 
enabled  us  to  add  a  sail  to  the  oars.  At  evening  we  encamped  on  a  warm- 
looking  beach,  on  the  right  bank,  at  the  foot  of  the  high  river-hill,  imme- 
diately at  the  lower  end  of  Cape  Horn. 

On  the  opposite  shore  is  said  to  be  a  singular  hole  in  the  momitain, 
from  which  the  Indians  believe  comes  the  wind  producing  these  gales.  It 
is  called  the  Devil's  Hole  ;  and  the  Indians,  I  was  told,  have  been  resolv- 


nr 


SECOND  EXPEDITION-    THE  DEl'irs  HOLE. 


281 


ino-  to  send  down  one  of  their  slaves  to  explore  the  region  below.  At 
(liirk,  the  wind  shifted  into  its  stormy  (luarter,  gradually  increasing  to  a 
ide  from  the  southwest ;  and  tlie  sky  beconiing  clear,  I  obtained  a  good 
observation  of  an  emersion  of  the  hrst  satellite  ;  the  result  of  which,  being 
an  absolute  observation,  I  have  adopted  for  the  luiigituih;  oi  the  place. 

Sovcntbcr  12th.  -The  wind  during  the  night  luul  increased  to  so  much 
violciice,  that  the  broad  river  this  morning  was  angry  and  white  ;  the  waves 
brcakiiv  with  considerable  lorce  against  this  rocky  wall  ol  the  cape.  Our 
uKl  Irocjiiois  pilot  was  unwilling  to  risk  the  boats  around  the  [toint,  anil  I 
was  not  disposed  to  hazard  the  stores  ol  our  voyage  for  tlu;  delay  of  a  da)  . 
I'lirihc-r  oI)S(,Tvations  were  obtained  during  the  day,  giving  for  the  latitude 
(if  the  place  45  '  ,33' oc/' ;   and   the  longitude,  obtained    from   the   satellite, 

IS  i::   0   15  . 

Kovcvilier  y^ili- — We  had  a  day  of  disagreeable  and  cokl  rain  ;  and, 
late  in  the  aft(;rnoon,  began  to  approach  tin;  rapids  oi  the  cascades.  There- 
is  here  a  high-timbered  island  on  the  left  shore,  below  which,  in  (l<,-scending, 
liiad  r(  iiiarkcil  in  a  bluff  on  the  riv(.'r  the  exlrimiilies  of  trmiks  and  tree's 
aiijn.'arin>,f  ti)  lie  imbedded  in  the  rock. 

Landing  here  this  afternoon,  I  found  in  the  lower  part  of  the  cscarp- 
ncnt . I  stratum  of  coal  and  forest-trees,  imbedded  bt.'tween  strata  of  altered 
lav  containing  the  remains  of  vegetables,  the  l(^av'.:s  of  which  indicate  that 
•.:;>  plants  were  tlicotyledonous.  Among  these,  the  stems  ol  some  of  the 
:'  ins  arc  not  mineralized,  but  merely  charred,  retaining  still  their  vegetable 
'-iiucturc  and  substance;  ;  and  in  this  condition  a  portion  also  ot  the  trees 
rn.aain.  The  indurated  a[)|)earance  and  eoini)actness  of  the  strata,  as  well, 
I'lrhaps,  as  the  mineralized  condition  ot  the  coal,  are  prol)ably  due  to  ig- 
ntoiis  action.  Some  portions  of  tlu;  coal  precisel\  res(;inble  1:1  as[)ect  the 
laniiL'lcoa!  of  haiglami,  and,  with  the  accompanying  fossils,  ha\  e  bc;en  re- 
lirrcd  to  the  tertiarj-  formation. 

These  strata  appear  to  rest  upon  a  mass  of  agglomerateil  rock,  being 

lit  a  lew  feet  ai)ove  the  water  of  the  river;   and   ovt.T  them  is  the  escarp- 

JKiit  ol  pcrha|)s  eight\-  feel,  rising  gradually  in  the  rear  toward  the  moun- 

;unv,    The  wet  and  cold  evening,  and   n(,'ar  approach  of  night,  prevented 

mc  troni  making  any  other  than  a  very  slight  examination. 

The  current  was  now  very  swift,  and  we  were  obliged  to  cordcllc  the; 
boat  along  the  left  shore,  where  the  baidv  was  covered  with  large  masses 
111  rocks.  Night  overtook  us  at  the  upper  end  of  thtr  island,  a  short  ilistance 
WW  the  cascailes,  and  we  halted  on  the  open  point.  In  the  meantime, 
the  Ijtrhter  canoes,  paddled  altogether  by  Indians,  had  passed  ahead,  and 
were  out  of  sight.  With  them  was  the  lodge,  which  was  the  only  shelter 
^^eliad,  with  most  of  the  bedding  and  pro\isions.  We  shouted,  and  fired 
i'uiis;  but  all  to  no  purpose,  as  it  was  impossible  for  them  to  hear  above 


I 


^  ■ 


i'if    ■     :f    '  ,''! 


383 


MEMOJRS  OJ-  MY  LI  J' E- J  OH X  CirAKJ.KS  FREMONT. 


m>\^ 


!9:  ( 


w 


:!* 


■-:  -. 


•V  n 


■'(  ■■    !' 


h', 


', 


'  I 


1 


the  roar  of  the  river  ;  and  we  rtMTiained  all  nis^jht  without  shelter,  the  rain 
pouring  down  all  the  time.  The  old  voyageurs  did  not  appear  to  mind  it 
much,  but  covered  themselves  up  as  well  as  they  could,  and  lay  down  on 
th''  sand-beach,  where  ihey  r(Miiained  quiet  until  morning.  The  rest  of  us 
spent  a  rather  miserable  night ;  and,  to  add  to  our  discomfort,  the  inc<s- 
.sant  rain  extinguished  our  lires  ;  and  we  were  glad  when  at  lust  davlinv 
appeared,  and  we  ag'ain  embarked. 

Crossing  to  the  right  bank,  we  coriL//cdt\\&  boat  along  the  shore,  there 
being  no  longer  any  use  for  the  paddles,  and  put  into  a  little  bay  below  the 
upper  rapids.  I  lere  we  found  the  loJge  pitched,  and  about  twenty  Indians 
sitting  around  a  blazing  fire  within,  making  a  luxurious  breakfast  with 
salmon,  bread,  butter,  sugar,  colfee,  and  other  provisions.  In  the  forest  on 
the  edge  of  the  high  bluff  overlooking  the  river,  is  an  Indian  grave-yard, 
consisting  of  a  collection  of  tombs,  in  each  of  which  were  the  scattered 
bones  of  many  skeletons.  The  tombs  were  made  of  boards,  which  were 
ornamented  with  many  figuies  of  men  and  animals  of  the  natural  size- 
from  their  appearance,  constituting  the  armorial  device  by  which,  anions: 
Indians,  the  chiefs  are  usualh'  known. 

The  masses  of  rock  displayed  along  the  shores  of  the  ravine  in  the 
neighborhood  of  tlie  cascades,  are  clearly  volcanic  products.  Between  this 
cove,  which  I  called  Gravc!-yard  Bay,  and  another  spot  of  smooth  water 
above,  on  the  rig'.t,  called  Liiders  Bay,  sheltered  by  a  jutting  point  of  hu^je 
rocky  masses  at  the  foot  of  the  cascades,  the  shore  along  the  intervening 
rapids  is  lined  with  precipices  of  distinct  strata  of  red  and  variously  colored 
lavas  in  inclin(;d  positions. 

The  masses  of  rock  forming  the  point  at  Liiders  Bay  consist  of  a  porous 
trap,  or  basalt — a  volcanic  product  of  a  modern  period.  The  rocks  belong' 
to  agglomerated  masses,  which  form  the  immediate  ground  of  the  cascades, 
and  have  been  already  mentioned  as  constituting  a  bed  of  cemented  con- 
glomerate rocks  appearing  at  various  places  along  the  river.  Here  they 
are  scattered  along  the  shores,  and  through  the  bed  of  the  river,  wearin;' 
the  characier  of  convulsion,  which  forms  the  impressive  and  prominent 
feature  of  tne  river  at  this  place. 

Wherever  we  came  in  contact  with  the  rocks  of  these  mountains,  we 
found  th(Mn  volcanic,  which  is  probably  the  character  of  the  range;  and  at 
this  time,  two  of  the  great  snowy  cones.  Mount  Regnier  and  St.  Helens, 
were  in  action.  On  the  230!  of  the  preceding  November,  St.  Helens  had 
scattered  its  ashes,  like  a  light  fall  of  snow,  over  the  Dalles  of  the  Colum- 
bia, fifty  miles  distant.  A  specimen  of  these  ashes  was  given  to  mehy.Mr. 
Brew<r,  one  of  the  clergymen  at  the  Dalles 


!l(.' 


lofty 


range 


of  the  Cascade  Mountains  forms  a  distinct  boundary  bt- 


tween  the  opposite  climates  of  the  regions  along  its  western  and  eastern 


SECOND  F.XPKniTfOX—l.l'DI'.RS  1L4Y. 


283 


bases.  On  the  west,  they  present  a  barrier  to  the  clouds  of  foj^  and  rain 
which  roll  up  from  the  Pacific  Ocean  and  beat  agfainst  their  rui^.ij^ed  sides, 
fonnins:''  the  rainy  season  of  the  winter  in  ilic  roiiniiy  along  the  coast.  Into 
the  bri<''hter  skies  of  the  res,don  aion^-  their  eastern  base,  this  rainy  winter 
never  penetrates  ;  and  at  the  Dalles  of  tlic  Cohunbia  the  rainy  season  is 
unknown,  the  brief  winter  beinj;'  limited  to  a  period  of  al^oiit  tw(j  month-;, 
durino"  which  the  earth  is  covered  with  the  slit^ht  snows  of  a  climate  re- 
markably mild  for  so  hi.^h  a  latitude.  The  Cascade  rans^e  has  an  average 
distance  of  about  one  hundred  and  thirty  miles  from  the  -ea-coast.  It  ex- 
tends far  both  north  and  south  of  the  Columbia,  and  i  •.  indicated  to  tlie  dis- 
tant observer,  both  in  cours.;  and  position,  by  the  lofiy  volcanic  peaks  wliich 
rise  out  of  ii,  and  whicli  are  visibK;  to  an  immense  distance. 

During  several  days  of  constant  rain,  it  kept  our  whole  force  laboriously 
employed  in  getting  our  barge  and  canoes  to  the  upper  end  of  the  cascades. 
Thii  portage-ground  was  cccupled  by  emigrant  families  ;  their  thin  and  in- 
sufficient clothing,  bare-headed  and  bare-footedi  children,  attesting  the 
len/th  of  their  journey,  and  showing  that  they  had,  in  many  instances,  set 
out  without  a  due  preparation  of  what  was  indispensable. 

A  i:;^entlenian  named  Liiders,  a  botanist  from  the  city  of  Hamburg,  ar- 
rived at  the  bay  I  havecalletl  by  his  name  while  we  were  occupied  in  bring- 
\\\'l  up  the  boats.  I  was  delighted  to  meet  at  such  a  place  a  man  of  kindred 
pursiiirs  ;  but  we  had  only  the  pleasure  of  a  brief  conversation,  as  his  canoe, 
under  the  guidance  of  two  Indians,  was  about  to  run  the  rapids  ;  and  I 
could  not  enjoy  the  satisfaction  of  regaling  him  with  a  breakfast,  which, 
after  his  recent  journey,  would  have  been  an  extraordinary  luxury.  All  of 
his  few  instruments  and  baggage  were  in  the  canoe,  and  he  hurried  around 
by  land  to  meet  it  at  the  Grave-yard  Bay  ;  but  he  was  scarcely  out  of  sight, 
when,  by  the  carelessness  of  the  luvlians,  the  boat  was  drawn  into  the 
midst  of  the  rapiils,  and  glanced  down  the  river,  bottom  up,  with  the  loss 
ot  everything  it  contained.  In  llie  natural  concern  I  felt  for  his  misfortune, 
1  gave  to  die  little  cove  the  name  of  I, ciders  \\\\y. 

November  x^th. — We  continued  to-day  oiu*  work  at  the  portage. 
About  noon  the  two  barges  of  the  ex[)ress  from  Montreal  arrived  at  the 
upper  portage  landing,  which,  for  large  boats,  is  on  the  right  bank  of  the 
river.  They  were  a  fine-looking  crew,  and  among  them  I  remarked  a  fresh- 
looking  woman  and  her  daughter,  emigrants  from  Canada.  It  was  satis- 
factory to  see  the  order  and  speed  with  which  these  experienced  watermen 
eftected  the  portage,  and  passed  their  boats  over  the  cascades.  They  had 
arrived  at  noon,  and  in  the  evening  they  expected  to  reach  Vancouver. 
These  batteaus  carry  the  express  of  the  Hudson  Bay  C(jmpany  to  the  high- 
est navigable  point  of  the  north  fork  of  the  Columbia,  whence  it  is  carried 
by  an  overland  party  to  Lake  W'inipec,  where  it  is  divided — part  going  t,j 


1:  i':1;j 


■''J»/'(i  !-,* 


.Miii  ,  •  I 


.84 


ME^rOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FR&MOXT. 


IW 


ri  I- 


¥i 


''■  i:   il 


!:  y 


(1    H 


H  'I 


Montreal,  and  part  to  Hudson  Bay.     Thus  arcgular  communication  is  kept 
up  between  three  very  remote  points. 

The  Canadian  emigrant  was  much  chagrined  at  the  change  of  climate, 
and  informed  me  that,  only  a  {nv^  miles  above,  they  had  left  a  countrv  of 
bright  blue  sky  and  a  shining  sun.  The  next  morning  the  upper  pans  of 
the  mountains  which  directly  overlook  the  cascades  were  white  with  the 
freshly  fallen  snow,  while  it  continued  to  rain  steadily  below. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  w  liiiished  the  [)ortage,  and  embarkincr  a"-ain, 
moved  ei  little  distance  up  t  e  right  bank,  in  order  to  clear  the  smaller 
rapids  of  the  cascades,  and  have  a  smooth  river  for  the  next  morniiio-. 
Though  we  made  but  a  few  miles,  the  weather  improved  immediatelv ; 
and  though  the  rainy  country'  and  the  cloudy  mountains  were  close  behimi, 
before  us  was  the  bright  sky  ;  so  distinctly  is  climate  here  marked  bv  a 
mountain  boundary. 

November  x'/th.-  —We  had  to-day  an  opportunity  to  complete  the  sketch 
of  that  portion  of  the  river  down  which  we  had  come  b\'  night,  and  of 
which  I  will  not  give  a  particular  description,  which  the  small  scale  of  our 
map  would  not  illustrate.  Many  places  occur  along  the  river  where  the 
stumps,  or  rather  portions  of  the  trunks  of  pine-trees,  are  standing  alor.,^^ 
the  shore,  and  in  the  v/ater,  whc;re  they  nia_\-  be  seen  at  a  considerable 
depth  below  the  surface,  in  the  beautifully  clear  water.  These  collections 
of  dead  trees  are  called  on  the  Cohunbia  the  s!ti)i?icrQcd  forest,  and  are  sup- 
posed to  have  been  created  by  the  effects  of  some  convulsion  which  form^u 
the  cascailes,  and  which,  ])y  damming  up  the  river,  placed  these  trees  under 
water  and  destroyed  them.  P>ut  I  venture  to  presume  that  the  cascades 
are  older  than  the  trees  ;  and  as  these  submerged  forests  occur  at  five  or 
six  places  along  the  river,  I  hael  an  opportunity  to  satisfy  myself  that  they 
have  been  formed  by  immense  land-slides  from  the  mountains,  which  hen 
closel)-  shut  in  the  river,  and  which  brought  down  with  them  into  the  ri'.'  r 
the  pines  of  the  mountain.  At  one  place,  on  the  right  bank,  I  remarked  a 
place  where  a  portion  of  one  of  these  slides  seemed  to  have  planted  itsell 
with  all  the  evergreen  foliage,  and  the  vegetation  of  the  neighboring  hi'l, 
directly  amidst  the  falling  and  yellow  leaves  of  the  river-trees.  It  occurreil 
to  me  that  this  would  have  been  a  beautiful  illustration  to  the  eve  of  a  bo- 


tanist. 

Folio- ; 
the  mo'  '    ^ 
erect  [   •    ■ 
and  throvvi: 


■   the  course  of  a  slide,  which  was  very  plainly  marked  along 

•  *V)und  that  in  the  interior  parts  the  trees  were  in  their  usual 

;   but,  ac  the  extremity  of  the  slide,  they  were  rocked  about 

nio  a  I  onfusion  of  inclinations. 

About  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  we  pissed  a  sandy  bar  in  the  river, 

whence  we  had  an  unexpected  view  of  ulount  Hood,  bearing  direcdy  south 

by  compass. 


SECOXn  F.Xr EDITION— SUBMERGED  FOREST. 


285 


Durinq'  the  day  \vc  used  oar  and  sail,  and  at  night  had  again  a  delight- 
ful camping  ground,  and  a  dry  place  to  sleep  upon. 

XiK'ciiikr  [8^//.  The  day  again  was  pleasant  and  bright.  At  ten 
o'clocf:  wc  passed  a  rock  island,  on  the  right  shore  of  the  river,  which  the 
Indians  use  as  a  burial  ground  ;  and,  halting  for  a  short  time,  about  an 
hour  afterward,  at  the  village  of  our  Indian  friends,  early  in  the  afleriioon 
wc  arrived  again  at  the  Dalles. 

Carson  hail  removed  the  camp  up  tiie  river  a  little  nearer  to  the  hills, 
where  the  animals  had  better  grass.  We  found  everything  in  good  order, 
and  arrived  just  in  time  to  partake  of  an  excellent  roast  of  California  beef. 
Mv  friend,  Mr.  Gilpin,  had  arrived  in  advance  of  the  party.  His  object  in 
visiiint,^  this  country  had  been  to  obtain  correct  information  of  the  Walah- 
iiu;tt(;  settlcnuMits  ;  and  Ik:  had  reached  this  point  in  his  journey,  highly 
pleased  with  tb.e  country  over  which  lie  had  travelled,  and  with  invigorated 
lical'di.  On  the  follov.-ing  day  In;  continued  his  journey,  in  our  returning 
hiiats,  to  \'ancou\-er. 

The  camp  was  now  occupied  in  making  the  necessarj'  preparations  for 
(i;;r  homeward  journey,  which,  though  homeward,  contemplated  a  new 
route,  and  a  great  circuit  to  the  south  and  southeast,  and  the  exploration 
of  the  Great  liasin  between  the  Rocky  Moimtains  and  the  Sierra  Nevada. 

Three  principal  objects  were  indicated  by  report,  or  by  maps,  as  being 
on  this  route  ;  the  character  or  existence  of  vrhich  I  wished  to  ascertain, 
and  which  I  assumed  as  landmarks,  or  leading  points,  on  the  projected  line 
lif  return.  The  first  of  these  ])oints  was  the  Tlaniath  Lake,  on  the  table- 
lind  between  the  head  of  Fall  River,  which  comes  to  the  Columbia,  and 
'>.!■  Sacramento,  which  goes  to  the  bay  of  San  Francisco  ;  and  from  which 
.ike  a  river  of  the  same  name  makes  its  way  westwardly  direct  to  the 
"cean. 

This  lake  and  river  arc  often  called  K/ainef,  but  I  have  chosen  to  write 

:■■;  name  according  to  the  Indian  pronunciation.     The  position  of  this  lake, 

n  the  line  of  inland  communication  between  Oregon  and  California;   its 

roximityto  the  demarcation  boundary  of  latitude  42'  ;   its  imputed  double 

i.iaracter  of  lake,  or  meadow,  according  to  the  season  of  the  year  ;  and 

;hc  hostile  and  warlike  ch.aracter  attributed  to  the  Indians  about  it — all 


:naJt 


1,. 


it  a  desirable  object  to  visit  anil  examine. 


Irom  this  lake  our  course  was  intended  to  be  about  southeast  to  a  re- 
ported lake  called  Mary's,  at  some  days'  journey  in  the  Great  Basin  ;  and 
tiitjnce,  still  on  southeast,  to  the  reputed  BnenaventHra  River,  which  has 
■■^d  a  place  in  so  many  maps,  and  countenanced  the  belief  of  the  existence 
^'i  a  great  river  flowing  from  the  Rocky  Mountains  to  the  bay  of  San  Fran- 
cisco. Irom  the  Buenaventura  the  next  point  was  intended  to  be  in  that 
section  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  which  includes  the  heads  of  Arkansas 


\     A 


: 


;  !i 


!!' 


'               I'll! 

:1 

U:Ji|i!iiM;: 

1 

'i 

286 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


River,  and  of  the  opposite  waters  of  the  Californian  Gulf;  and  thence 
down  the  Arkansas  to  I3ent's  Fort,  and  home. 

This  was  our  projected  line  of  return — a  great  part  of  it  absolutely  new 
to  L^^eographical,  botanical,  and  geological  science- — and  the  subject  of  re- 
ports  in  relation  to  lakes,  rivers,  deserts,  and  savages  hardly  above  the 
condition  of  mere  wild  animals,  which  inflanif^d  desire  to  know  what  this 
ley)  a  incog;:iita  really  contained.  It  was  a  serious  enterprise,  at  the  com- 
mencement of  winter,  to  undertake  the  traverse  of  such  a  region,  and  with 
a  party  consisting  only  of  twenty-five  persons,  and  they  of  many  nations- 
American,  French,  German,  Canadian,  Indian,  and  colored — and  most  of 
them  young,  several  being  under  twenty-one  years  of  age. 

All  knew  that  a  strange  country  was  to  be  explored,  and  dan!:;t:rs  and 
hardships  to  be  encountered  ;  but  no  one  blenched  at  the  prospect.  On 
the  contrary,  courage  and  confidence  animated  the  whole  pa'-cy.  Cheer- 
fulness, readiness,  subordination,  prompt  obedience,  characterixcd  all ;  no;- 
did  any  extremity  of  peril  and  privation,  to  which  we  were  afterward  ex- 
pos(;d,  ever  belie,  or  derogate  from,  the  fine  spirit  of  this  brave  and  gen- 
erous commencement. 

The  course  of  the  narrative  will  show  at  Avhat  point,  and  for  what  rea- 
sons, we  were  prevented  from  the  complete  execution  of  this  plan,  after 
having  made  considerable  progress  upon  it,  and  how  we  were  forced  hv 
desert  plains  and  mountain  ranges,  and  deep  snows,  far  to  the  south  and 
near  to  the  Pacific  Ocean,  and  along  the  western  base  of  the  Sierra  Ne- 
vada ;  where,  ii-.deed,  a  new  and  ample  field  of  exploration  opened  itself 
before  us.  For  the  present,  we  must  follow  the  narrative,  which  will  first 
lead  us  south  along  the  valley  of  Fall  River,  and  the  eastern  base  of  the 
Cascade  range,  to  the  Tlamath  Lake,  from  which,  or  its  margin,  three 
rivers  go  in  thret;  directions — one  west,  to  the  ocean  ;  another  north,  to 
the  Columbia  ;  the  third  south,  to  California. 

}'"or  the  support  of  the  party,  I  had  provided  at  Vancouver  a  supply  ci 
provisions  fijr  not  less  than  three  months,  consisting  principally  of  flour, 
peas  and  tallow  —the  latter  being  used  in  cooking  ;  and,  in  addition  to  this, 
I  had  purchased  at  the  mission  some  California  cattle,  which  were  to  be 
driven  on  the  hoof. 

We  had  one  hundred  and  four  mules  and  horses — part  of  the  latter  pro- 
cured from  the  Indians  about  the  mission  ;  and  for  the  sustenance  of  which 
our  reliance  was  upon  the  grass  which  we  should  find,  and  the  soft  porous 
wood  which  was  to  be  its  substitute  when  there  was  none. 

Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  with  Mr.  Talbot  and  the  remainder  of  our  party,  arrivea 
on  the  2ist  ;  and  the  camp  was  now  closely  engaged  in  the  labor  of  prepa- 
ration. Mr.  Perkins  succeeded  in  obtaining  as  guide  to  the  Tlamath  Lake 
two  Indians — one  of  whom  had  been  there,  and  bore  the  marks  of  several 


SECOND  RXPEDITTON—SET  OUT  FOR    TLA  MATH   LAKE. 


287 


wounds  he  had  received  from  some  of  the  Indians  in  the  neighborliood  ; 
and  the  other  went  alon<^  for  company.  In  order  to  enable  us  to  obtain 
horses,  he  despatched  messengers  to  the  various  Inchan  villages  in  tin; 
■lei'^hborhood,  informing  'hem  that  we  were  desirous  to  purchase,  and  a|i- 
nointing  a  day  for  them  to  bring  them  in. 

Wc  made,  in  the  meantime,  several  excursions  in  the  vicinity.  Mr. 
Perkins  walked  with  Mr.  Preuss  and  myself  to  the  heights,  about  nine  miles 
distant  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  whence,  in  fine  weather,  an  e.xtcn- 
hivc  view  may  be  had  over  the  mountains,  including  seven  great  peaks  of 
the  Cascade  range  ;  but  clouds,  on  this  occasion,  destroyed  the  anticipated 
oleasure,  and  wt;  obtained  bearings  onlv  to  three  that  were  visible  :  Mount 
Refnier,  St.  Helens,  and  Mount  Hood.  On  the  heights,  about  one  mile 
south  of  the  mission,  a  very  fine  view  may  be  had  of  Mount  Mood  and  St. 
ilelens.  In  order  to  determine  their  positions  with  as  much  accuracy  as 
possible,  the  angular  distances  of  the  peaks  were  measured  with  the  se.x- 
tant,  at  different  fixed  points  from  which  they  could  be  seen. 

The  Indians  brought  in  their  horses  at  the  appointed  time,  and  we  suc- 
ceeded in  obtaining  a  number  in  e.Kchange  for  goods  ;  but  they  were  rela- 
uvclv  much  higher  here,  where  goods  are  jilenty  and  at  moderate  prices, 
than  we  had  found  them  in  the  more  eastern  part  of  our  voyage.  Several 
of  the  Indians  inquired  very  anxiously  to  know  if  we  had  any  dollars  ;  and 
the  horses  we  procured  were  nnich  fewer  in  number  than  1  had  desired, 
and  of  thin,  inferior  (pirdity  ;  the  oldest  and  poorest  being  those  that  were 
sold  to  u.i.  These  horses,  as  our  journey  gave  constant  occasion  to  remark, 
are  valuable  for  hardihood  and  great  endurance. 

Xoraiikr  24/"/-.-  -At  lI.Is  place  one  of  the  men  was  discharged  ;  and  at 
the  request  of  Mr.  Perkins,  a  Chinook  Indian,  a  lad  of  nineteen,  who  was 
f'xtremely  desirous  to  "  see  the  whites,"  and  make  some  accjuaintance  with 
i;;r  insdtutions,  was  received  into  the  party,  under  my  especial  charge,  w-ith 
the  understanding  that  I  would  again  return  him  to  his  friends.  He  had 
lived  for  some  lime  in  the  household  of  Mr.  Perkins,  and  spoke  a  few  words 
of  the  Enrrlish  lanpfuaoe. 

Xoveinbcr  25//^. — We  were  all  up  early,  in  the  excitement  of  turning  to- 
'vanl  home.  The  stars  were  brilliant,  and  the  morning  cold — the  ther- 
mometer at  daylight  26". 

Our  preparations  had  been  finally  completed,  and  to-day  we  commenced 
our  journey.  The  little  wagon  which  had  hitherto  carried  the  instruments, 
I  judged  it  necessary  to  abandon  ;  and  it  was  accordingly  presented  to  the 
mission.  In  all  our  long  travelling,  it  had  never  been  overturned  or  injured 
by  any  accident  of  the  road;  and  the  only  things  broken  were  the  glass 
iaiiips,  and  one  of  the  front  panels,  which  had  been  kicked  out  by  an  un- 
'ily  Indian  horse.     The  howitzer  was  the  only  wheeled  carriage  now  re- 


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iiuiiMin,g.      \Vc  si;irt(xlal)out  noon,  when  the  wcatlier  had  l)e(:()iii('(lisa  rn.,'. 
ably  coKl,  with  Hurries  of  snow,      (^ur  friend,  Mr.  I'erkins,  whose  kin, l|]t;, 
had  been  active  and  clficicnt  durin<^r  our  stay,  accompanied  iis  several  miles 
on  our  road  ;    wlien  lie   bade   us  farewell,  and  consigned  us  to  the  care  ui" 
our  yuides. 

.Ascending  to  the  uplands  beyontl  the  southern  fork  of  the  Tiihiiici:< 
Creek,  we  found  the  snow  lying  on  the  ground  in  frequent  patches,  althou  r;, 
the  pasture  appeared  good,  and  tlu;  new  short  grass  was  iVcsii  ainl  ■Tetn, 
We  travelleil  over  high,  hilly  land,  ,iiid  ''ucainijed  on  a  littl":  hraiich  d;' 
Tinanens  Creek,  where  thert,'  were  good  grass  and  timb.;;-.  ("lie  southern 
bank  was  covered  with  snow,  wliich  was  scattered  over  llu;  bottom,  an  1 
the  little  creek,  it;  birders  lined  with  ici',  had  a  cliilly  an>l  wintry  look. 

A  number  of  Indians  had  accompanied  us  so  far  o!i  our  road,  and  n- 
mained  with  us  during  the  night.  Two  bad-looking  fellows,  who  were  de- 
tectetl  in  stealing,  were  tied  and  laid  before  the  fire,  and  guard  nioiinl .  '. 
over  them  during  the  night.      The  night  was  cold  and  partially  clear. 

A'ovriufirr  26///. — The  morning  was  cloudy  and  mistv,  and  hut  a  fev 
stars  \isib!e.  During  the  night  water  froze  in  the  tents,  and  at  siuiriseihr 
thermometer  was  at  20'.  Left  camp  at  ten  o'clock,  the  road  leaJiiTj- alo'.i  ■ 
tributaries  of  the  Tinanens,  and  being,  so  far,  \vxy  good.  \V(;  turned  to 
the  right  at  a  fork  of  the  trail,  ascending  b_\-  ast(>ep  ascent  along  a  spur 
to  the  dividing  grounds  between  this  stream  and  the  waters  of  i'all  ]\v  ■■-. 
The  cre(d-:s  we  had  jiasseil  were  timbered  princijial'y  with  oak  and  othi" 
deciduous  trees.  Snow  lies  everywhere'  here  on  the  ground,  and  we  ha  1 
a  slight  fall  during  the  morning;  but  toward  noon  the  gray  sky  yielded  t,i 
a  bright  sim. 

This  morning  we  had  a  grand  view  of  St.  Helens  and  Regnier ;  the 
latter  appeared  of  a  conical  form,  and  \ery  lofty,  leading  the  eye  far  up  int" 
the  sky.  The  lini;  of  the  timl)ercd  country  is  very  distinctly  marked  lierc 
the  bare  hills  making  with  it  a  remarkable  contrast.  The  summit  ofih'' 
ridge  commanded  a  hne  \-iew  of  th(,'  Taih  Prairie,  antl  the  strt'ain  rumiin.; 
through  it,  which  is  a  tributary  to  the  Fall  River,  the  chasm  of  which  i^ 
visible  to  the  right.  A  steep  descent  of  a  mountain  hill  brought  us  down 
into  the  valley,  and  we  encamped  on  the  strctam  after  dark,  guided  by  the 
light  of  lircs,  which  some  naketl  Indians  belonging  to  a  village  on  thr 
opposite  side  were  kindling  for  us  on  the  bank.  This  is  a  large  hrancli 
o'i  the  I'all  Ri\er.  There  was  ;i  broad  band  of  thick  ice  some  filteen  tee; 
wiile  on  either  bank,  and  the  river  current  is  swift  and  bold. 

The  night  was  cold  and  clear,  and  wc;  made  our  astronomical  observa- 
tion this  evening  with  the  thermometer  at  20  . 

In  anticipation  of  coming  hardship,  and  to  spare  our  horses,  there  was 
much  walking  done  to-day;  and  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  and  myself  made  the  days 


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SF.CO.Vn   F.SrF.niTlOIV    EVU.   spirit  /XFF.STF.D   AfOf/A'r.U.VS.      280 


journey  on  foot.  Somcwhero  near  the  mouth  of  this  stream,  arc  the  falls 
from  which  the;  river  takes  its  name. 

XtKh-iiiber  27/"//.  —A  fine  view  of  Mount  Hood  this  morninc,'' ;  a  rose- 
colorijcl  niass  of  snow,  bearing  S.  85°  W.  by  c()in[)ass.  The  sky  is  clear, 
and  the  air  cold  ;  the  thermometer  2.5^  below  zero  ;  the  trees  and  bushes 
.rlitteriiif  white,  and  tlie  rapiil  stream  filled  with  floating  ice. 

.SV/'/cAvand  //ic  While  Crane,  two  Indian  chiefs  who  had  accompanied 
us  thus  fiir,  took  their  leave,  and  we  resunietl  our  journey  at  ten  o'clock. 
Wc  ascended  by  a  steep  hill  from  the  river  bottom,  which  is  sandy,  to  a 
volcanic  plain,  around  which  lofty  hills  s\vci;p  in  a  regular  form.  It  is  cut 
,i[,  by  gullies  of  basaltic  rock,  escarpments  of  which  appear  everywhere  in 
thij  hills.  This  plain  is  called  the  Taih  Prairie,  and  is  sprinklc;d  with  souk; 
scattered  [liiu  s. 

The  country  is  now  lar  more  interesting  to  a  tr.iveller  than  tlie  route 
alon<i' the  Snake  and  Cohmibia  Rivers.  To  our  right  we  had  always  the 
mountains,  from  the  midst  of  whose  dark  pine  for-ists  the  isolated  snowy 
ixaks  were  looking  out  like  giants.  Th(;y  served  us  for  grand  beacons  to 
shiiu'  the  rate  at  which  we  advanced  in  our  journey.  Mount  Mood  was  al- 
nailv  becoming  an  old  actpiaintance,  and,  when  we  ascended  the  prairie, 
we  obtain(;(l  a  liearing  to  Mount  Jefferson,  .S.  2,^    W. 

The  Indian  superstition  has  :.>eopled  these  lofty  peaks  with  evil  spirits, 
;.n  1  they  have  never  yet  known  the  tread  of  a  human  foot.  Sternly  drawn 
;i4a;nst  the  sky,  they  look  so  high  and  steep,  so  snowy  and  rocky,  that  it 
,vnuld  appear  almost  impossible  to  climb  them  ;  but  still  a  trial  would  have 
in  attractions  for  the  adventurous  traveller. 

A  small  trail  takes  off  through  the  prairie,  toward  a  low  point  in  the 
:.m;^e,  and  perhaps  there  is  here  a  pass  into  the  Walahmette  Valley. 
'"rnssin::,''  the  plain,  we  descended  by  a  rocky  hill  into  the  bend  of  a  trihu- 
.ary  of  l'"all  River,  and  made  an  early  encampment.  Tlu;  water  was  in 
iiolrs  and  frozen  over,  and  we  were  obliged  to  cut  through  the  ice  for  the 
animals  to  drink.  An  o.v,  which  was  rather  troublesome  to  drive,  was 
killed  here  for  food. 

The  evening  was  fine,  the  sky  being  vc^ry  clear,  and  I  obtained  an  im- 
idsion  of  the  third  satellite,  with  a  good  observation  of  an  emersion  of 
;ni;iirst;  thi;  latter  of  which  gives  for  the  longitude,  121"  02' 43";  the 
iititude,  In'  observation,  being  45''  06'  45".  The  night  was  cold — the  ther- 
inometcr  during  the  observations  standmg  at  9''. 

November  2^t/i.  — The  sky  was  clear  in  the  morning,  but  suddenly 
clouded  over,  and  at  sunrise  began  to  snow,  with  the  thermometer 
at  1 8: 

^\e  traversed  a  broken  high  country  partly  timbered  with  pine,  and 
about  noon  crossed  a  mountainous  ridge,  in  which,  from  the  rock  occa- 


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290 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRl'iMONT. 


sionally  displayed,  the  formation  consists  of  compact  lava.  Freqiiciif  tnck^ 
of  elk  were  visibk  in  the  snow.  On  our  right,  in  the  afternoon,  a  hi"li 
plain,  partially  covered  with  pine,  extended  about  ten  miles  to  the  foot  of 
the  Cascade  Mountains. 

At  evening  we  encamped  in  a  basin  narrowly  surrounded  by  rocky  hills 
after  a  day's  journey  of  twenty-one  miles.  The  surrounding  rocks  arc 
cither  volcanic  products,  or  highly  altered  by  volcanic  action,  consisiiivrof 
quartz  and  reddish-colored  siliceous  masses. 

Norci'tbcr  2qt/i. — We  emerged  from  the  basin,  by  a  narrow  pass,  iipo,! 
a  considerable  branch  of  J'all  River,  running  to  the  eastward  throii^'h  a 
narrow  valley.  The  trail,  descending  this  stream,  brought  us  to  a  locality 
of  hot  springs,  which  were  on  either  bank.  Those  on  the  left,  which  were 
formed  into  deep,  handsome  basins,  would  have  been  delightful  baths  if 
the  outer  air  had  not  been  so  keen,  the  thermometer  in  these  being  at  S(/. 
There  were  others,  on  the  opposite  side,  at  the  foot  of  an  escarpment,  in 
which  the  tein[)erature  of  the  water  was  134".  These  waters  depositecl 
around  the  spring  a  brecciated  mass  of  quartz  and  feldspar,  much  of  it  of  a 
reddish  color. 

We  crossed  the  stream  here,  and  ascended  again  to  a  high  plain,  fro;ii 
an  elevated  point  of  which  we  obtained  a  view  of  six  of  the  great  peaks  - 
Mount  Jefferson,  followed  to  the  southward  by  two  e'^iers  of  the  same 
class  :  and  succeeding,  at  a  still  greater  distance  to  the  southward,  were 
three  other  lower  peaks,  clustering  together  in  a  branch  ridge.  These, 
like  the  great  peaks,  were  sncjwy  masses,  secondary  only  to  them ;  and, 
from  the  best  examination  .nn-  time  |)ermitted,  we  are  inclined  to  believe 
that  the  range  to  which  they  belong  is  a  branch  from  the  great  chain  which 
here  bears  to  the  westward.  The  trail  during  the  remainder  of  the  day 
followed  near  to  the  large  stream  on  the  left,  which  was  continuouslY 
walled  in  between  high  rocky  banks.  We  halted  for  the  night  on  a  little 
by-stream. 

November  30///.  -Our  journey  to-day  was  short.  Passing  over  a  hiij;!i 
plain,  on  which  were  scattered  cedars,  with  frequent  beds  of  volcanic  rock 
in  fragments,  interspersed  among  the  grassy  grounds,  we  arrived  suddenly 
on  the  verge'  of  the  steep  and  rocky  descent  to  the  valley  of  the  stream  wr 
had  been  following  and  which  \\vxv.  ran  directly  across  our  path,  cmertdnL; 
from  the  mountains  on  the  right.  You  will  remark  that  llu-  country  is 
abtmdantly  watered  with  large  streams  which  pour  down  from  the  nei^'h- 


hormsf  ranoe. 


Mr 


These  streams  are  characterized  by  the  narrow  and  chasm-like  valley; 
in  which  they  run,  generally  sunk  a  thousand  feet  below  the  plain.  At 
the  verge  of  this  plain  they  frequently  commence  in  vertical  prccijjices  of 
liasaltic  rock,  and  which  leave  only  casual  places  at  which  they  can  be 


Ml' 


saV.V/''  hXriWITION—RRMARKABLE  FLUVJ A  TILE  INFUSORIA.     291 

entered  by  horses.  The  road  across  the  country,  which  would  otherwise 
be  very  good,  is  rendered  impracticable  for  wagons  by  these  streams. 
There  is  another  trail  among  the  mountains,  usually  followed  in  the  sum- 
mer, which  the  snows  now  compelled  us  to  avoid  ;  and  I  have  reason  to 
bi'iieve  that  this,  passing  nean;r  the  heads  of  these  streams,  would  afford 
a  imicli  better  road. 

At  such  places,  the  gun-carriage  was  unlimbered,  and  separately  de- 
scended by  hand.  Continuing  a  few  miles  up  tlie  left  Ixuik  of  the  river, 
we  encamped  early  in  an  open  bottom  among  the  pines,  a  short  distance 
below  a  lodge  of  Indians.  Mere,  along  the  river,  the  bluffs  [^resent  escarp- 
lUL-nts  seven  or  eight  hundred  feet  in  height,  containing  Jitrata  of  a  very 
line  porcelain  clay,  overlaid,  at  the  height  of  about  five  hundred  feet,  by  a 
massive  siratiini  of  compact  basalt  one  hundred  feet  in  thickness,  which 
a'ain  is  sueceed<;d  above  by  other  strata  of  \oleanic  rocks. 

fhe  clay  strata  are  variously  colored,  some  of  them  very  nearly  as 
white  as  chalk,  and  very  fine-grained.  .Specimens  brought  from  these 
have  been  subjected  to  microscoijical  examination  by  Professor  Hailt'v.  of 
West  Point,  and  are  considered  by  him  to  constitute  one  of  the  most  re- 
markable deposits  of  fluviatile  infusoria  on  record.  W'hile  they  alK)und 
in  L;enera  and  species  which  are  common  in  frc^sh  i.ater,  but  which  rarely 
thrive  where  the  water  is  even  brackish,  not  one  decidedly  marine  form  is 
to  be  found  among  them  ;  and  their  fresh-water  origin  is  therefore  beyond 
a  doubt.  It  is  equally  certain  that  they  lived  and  died  at  the  situation 
where  they  were  found,  as  they  could  scarcely  have  been  transported  by 
rimnint;-  waters  without  an  admixture  ol  sandy  particles  ;  from  which,  how- 
ever, they  are  remarkably  free. 

Fossil  infusoria  of  a  fresh-water  origin  had  been  previously  detected 
by  Mr.  Bailey  in  specimens  brought  by  Mr.  James  D.  Dana  from  the  ter- 
tiary formation  of  Oregon.  Most  of  the  speci''s  in  those  s|,..:cinien!:'  dif- 
fered so  much  from  those  now  living  and  known,  that  he  was  led  to  infer 
that  they  might  belong  to  extinct  sp'.'cies,  and  considered  them  also  .as  af- 
fordinjr  proof  of  an  alternation,  in  the  formation  ffv".  which  they  were  ob- 
tained, of  fresh  ami  saltwater  deposits,  which,  common  enough  in  P'urope, 
had.  not  hitherto  been  noticed  in  the  l-nited  .Stales.  Coming  evitlently 
trom  a  locality  entirely  different,  our  specimens  *  show  very  few  species  in 
uimmon  with  those  brought  by  Mr.  Dana,  but  bear  a  much  closer  resem- 
'ilancelo  those  inhabiting  the  I  .iieastern  States.  It  is  possible  that  they 
ire  Ironi  a  more  recent  deposit ;  but  the  presence  of  a  few  remarkable 

'  The  specimens  obt.iined  at  this  locality  arc  dcsi^'natcd  in  tlio  appendix  by  tlie  Nos.  i;),  54,  55, 
:'*'  S'\  S'^i  59.  (»•  The  results  obtained  by  Mr.  liaili'y  in  liis  oyaniinatii)n  of  speiinicni  from  the 
iiifusoii.il  stiiua,  with  a  plate  exhibiting  some  of  the  most  interesting  forms,  will  be  fomul  embodied 

'^'I'.i' Appendix, 


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292 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRAmONT. 


•'MM'   ■,  il 


forms,  which  are  common  to  the  two  localities,  renders  it  more  probable 
that  there  is  no  great  difference  in  their  age. 

I  obtained  here  a  good  observation  of  an  emersion  of  the  second  satel- 
lite ;  but  clouds,  which  rapidly  overspread  the  sky,  prevented  the  usual 
lumber  of  observations.  Those  which  we  succeeded  in  obtaiiiino-  are 
however,  good  ;  and  give  for  the  latitude  of  the  place  44"  35'  23",  and  for 
the  longitude  from  the  satellite  121°  10'  25". 


!  i» 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

Talmath  Lake — Thermometer  at  Zero — Lake  Abcrt — Celebrating  Christmas  Morning 
—Almost  the  Missing  Link — A  Gloomy  Xew  Year's  Eve — Extraordinary  Hot 
Springs— Pyramid  Lake — The  N^ut  Pine — Brandy  a  Good  Medicine — Majesty  of 
the  Mountains. 

December  \st. — A  short  distance  above  our  encampment  we  crossed 
this  river,  which  was  iiickly  lined  along'  its  l)anks  with  ice.  In  common 
with  all  thes .  iri'ionl.  ■■  M-eams,  the  water  was  very  clear,  and  the  current 
swift.  It  was  not  evci)  where  fordable,  and  the  water  was  three  or  foin- 
I'tet  deep  at  our  crossing,  and  perhaps  a  hundred  feet  wide.  As  was  fre- 
quently the  case  at  such  places,  one  of  the  mules  got  his  pack,  consisting 
ofsui^ar,  thoroughly  wet,  and  turned  into  molasses. 

One  of  the  guides  informed  me  that  this  was  a  "  salmon  water,"  and 
pointed  out  several  ingeniously  contrived  places  to  catch  the  fish  ;  among 
ihe  trees  in  the  bottom  I  saw  an  immense  pine,  about  twelve  feet  in  diame 
ter.  A  steep  ascent  from  the  oj)posite  bank  delayed  us  again  ;  and  as,  by 
the  information  of  our  guides,  grass  would  soon  become  very  scarce,  we 
encamped  >n  the  height  of  land,  in  a  marshy  place  among  the  pines,  where 
there  was  an  abundance  of  grass. 

We  found  here  a  single  Nr/  I'e.rr''  family,  who  had  a  very  handsome 
iiorse  in  their  drove,  which  v,  ;■  en  'eavored  to  obtain  in  exchange  for  a 
^'ood  cow  ;  but  the  man  "  h  vu  tvu  hearts,"  or  rather,  he  had  one  and  his 
wife  had  another;  she  wanted  iiij  >.ovv,  but  he  loved  the  horse  too  much 
to  part  \tith  it.  These  n.:op'e  ;'tta  'h  n^;  eat  value  to  cattle,  with  which  they 
arc  endeavoring  to  supply  thernse'ives. 

Dicanhcr  2d. — In  the  first  ravs  of  the  sun  the  mountain  peaks  this 
niornin;.,^  jiresented  a  beautiful  appearance,  the  snow  iKMng  entirely  covered 
with  a  hue  of  rosy  gold.  We  travelled  to-day  over  a  very  stony,  elevated 
plain,  about  which  were  scattered  cedar  and  pine,  and  encamped  on  another 
l.ir;;e  branch  of  Fall  River.  W'e  were  gradually  ascending  to  a  more 
elevated  region,  which  wot'  have  been  indicated  by  the  rapidly  increasing- 
quantities  of  snow  and  ice  i  'i  we  not  known  it  by  other  means.  A  mule 
whidi  was  packed  with  our  ci  •  mg  n.tensils  wandered  off  among  the  pines 
unperceived,  and  several  men  were  sent  back  to  search  for  it. 

DccemL-r  },d. — Leaving  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  with  the  party,  I  went  ahead 


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MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LTFE—JOHN'  CHARLES  FR P.MONT. 


with  the  howitzer  and  a  few  men,  in  ordar  to  gain  time,  as  our  proCTess 
with  the  gun  was  necessarily  slower.      The  country  continued  the  same 
very  stony,  with  cedar  and  pine  ;  and  we  rode  on  until  dark,  when  we  en- 
camped on  a  liill-side  covered  with  snow,  which  we  used  to-night  for  watfr 
as  we  were  unable  to  reach  any  stream. 

December  j^l/i. — Our  animals  had  taken  the  back  track,  although  a  oreai 
number  were  hobbled  ;  and  we  were  consequently  delayed  until  noon. 
Shortly  after  we  had  left  this  encampment  the  mountain  trail  from  the 
Dalles  joined  that  on  which  we  were  travelling.  After  passing  for  severai 
miles  over  an  artemisia  plain,  the  trail  entered  a  beautiful  pine  forest, 
through  which  we  travelled  for  several  hours  ;  and  about  four  o'clock  de- 
scended into  the  valley  of  another  large  1  ranch,  on  the  bottom  of  which 
were  spaces  of  open  pines,  with  occasion.;:  i  -•'  '^'->ws  of  good  grass,  in  one 
of  which  we  encamped.     The  stream  is  vv  -ift  and  deep,  '•■"'  ,.L^„, 

forty  feet  wide,  and  nearly  half  frozen  over.  .  nong  the  timber  hen;  aiv 
larches  one  hundred  and  forty  feet  high  and  over  three  feet  in  diameter. 
We  had  to-night  the  rare  sight  of  a  lunar  rainbow. 

December  5^/^.— To-day  the  country  was  all  pine  forest,  and  beautiful 
weather  made  our  journey  delightful.  It  was  too  warm  at  noon  for  winter 
clothes  ;  and  the  snow,  which  lay  everywhere  in  patches  through  die  for- 
est, was  melting  rapidly. 

After  a  few  hours'  ride  wc  came  upon  a  fine  stream  in  the  midst  of  the 
forest,  which  proved  to  be  the  principal  branch  of  Fall  River.  It  was  oc- 
casionally two  hundred  feet  wide — sometimes  narrowed  to  fifty  feet;  the 
waters  very  clear,  and  frequently  deep.  We  ascended  along  the  river, 
which  sometimes  presented  sheets  of  foaming  cascades,  its  banks  occa- 
sionally blackened  with  masses  of  scoriated  rock,  and  found  a  good  en- 
campment on  the  verge  of  an  open  bottom,  which  had  been  an  old  cain[)- 
ing-ground  of  the  Cayuse  Indians.  A  great  number  of  de(.'rdiorns  were 
lying  about,  indicating  game  in  the  neighborhood.  The  timber  was  uni- 
formly large  ;  some  of  the  pines  measuring  twenty-two  feet  in  circumter- 
ence  at  the  ground,  and  twelve  to  thirteen  feet  at  six  feet  above. 

In  all  our  journeying  we  had  never  travelled  through  a  country  where 
the  rivers  were  so  abounding  in  falls,  and  the  name  of  this  stream  is  singu- 
larly characteristic.  At  every  place  where  we  come  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  river  is  heard  the  roaring  of  falls.  The  rock  along  the  banks  ot 
the  stream,  and  the  ledge  over  which  it  falls,  is  a  scoriated  basalt,  with  a 
bright  metallic  fracture.  The  stream  goes  over  in  one  clear  pitch,  succeeded 
by  a  foaming  cataract  of  several  hundred  yards.  In  the  litde  bottom  above 
the  falls  a  small  stream  discharges  into  an  entonnoir,  and  disappears  below. 

We  had  made  an  early  encampment,  and  in  the  course  of  the  evening 
Mr.  Fitzpatrick  joined  us  here  with  the  lost  mule.     Our  lodge-poles  were 


Sf.COXD   EXPKDITIOXSTRVCK  FALL    Rll'ELi. 


295 


nearly  worn  out,  and  we  found  here  a  handsome  set  leaning  against  one  of 
the  trees,  very  white,  and  cleanly  scraped.  Had  the  owners  been  here,  we 
would  have  purchased  them  ;  but  as  they  were  not,  we  merely  left  the  old 
ones  ill  their  place,  with  a  small  quantity  of  tobacco. 

December  6ih. — The  morning  was  frosty  and  clear.  We  continued  up 
the  stream  on  undulating  forest  ground,  over  which  there  was  scattered 
much  fallen  timber.  We  met  here  a  village  of  Nez  Perce  Indians,  who  ap- 
peared to  be  coming  down  from  the  mountains  and  had  with  them  hnr 
bands  of  horses.  With  them  were  a  few  Snake  Indians  of  the  root-digging 
species. 

From  tlie  forest  we  emerged  into  an  open  valley  ten  or  twelve  miles 
wide,  ih.'OLigh  which  the  stream  was  flowing  tranquilly,  upward  of  two  hun- 
cirecl  feet  uroad,  with  occasional  islands,  and  bordered  with  fine  broad  bot- 
loms.  Crossing  the  river,  which  here  issues  from  a  great  mountain  ridge 
or.  the  ri^du,  we  continued  up  the  southern  and  smaller  branch,  over  a 
level  coua..y,  consisting  of  fine  meadow  land  alternating  with  pine  forests, 
and  encami)ed  on  it  early  in  the  evening.  A  warm  sunshine  made  the 
day  pleasant. 

December  "jik. — To-day  we  had  good  travelling  ground  ;  the  trail  lead- 
ing sometimes  over  rather  sandy  soils  in  the  pine  forest,  and  sometimes 
over  meadow  land  along  the  stream.  The  great  beauty  of  the  country  in 
summer  constantly  suggested  itself  to  our  imaginations  ;  and  even  now  we 
foi;nd  it  beautiful,  as  we  rode  alonof  these  meadows,  from  half  a  mile  to  two 
miles  wide.  The  rich  soil  and  excellent  water,  surrounded  by  noble  for- 
ests, make  a  pictur;i  that  woukl  delight  the  eye  of  a  farmer  ;  and  I  regret 
that  the  very  small  scale  of  the  map  would  not  allow  us  to  give  some  rep- 
resentation of  these  features  of  the  country, 

1  observed  to-night  an  occultation  of  r,  Gcminovum  /  which,  although  at 
the  briL,dit  limb  of  th^  moon,  appears  to  give  a  very  good  result,  that  has 
been  adopted  for  the  longitude.  The  occultation,  observations  of  satellites, 
and  our  position  deduced  from  daily  surveys  with  the  ccmpass  agree  re- 
markably well  together,  and  mutually  support  and  strengthen  each  other. 
The  latitude  of  the  camp  is  43°  30'  36"  ;  and  longitude,  deduced  from  the 
occultation,  121°  2,'^'  50". 

December  Zlh. — To-day  we  crossed  the  last  branch  of  the  Fall  River, 
issuinf;,  like  all  the  others  we  had  crossed,  in  a  southwesterly  direction  from 
the  mountains.  Our  direction  was  a  little  east  of  south,  the  trail  leading 
constandy  through  pine  forests. 

The  soil  was  generally  bare,  consisting,  in  greater  part,  of  a  yellowish- 
«'hite  pumice-stone,  producing  varieties  of  magnificent  pines,  but  not  a 
Ijlade  of  i^rrass ;  and  to-night  our  horses  were  obliged  to  do  without  food, 
iind  use  snow  for  water.     These  pines  are  remarkable  for  the  red  color  of 


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396 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  IJFE—JOHN  CHARLES  FRp.MONT. 


the  boles  ;  and  among  them  occurs  a  species,  of  which  the  Indians  had  in- 
formed me  when  leaving  the  Dalles.  The  unusual  size  of  the  cone  (sixteen 
or  eighteen  inches  long)  had  attracted  their  attention  ;  and  they  pointrd 
it  out  to  me  among  the  curiosities  of  the  country.  They  are  more  remark- 
able for  their  large  diameter  than  their  height,  which  usually  avcrayes  onlv 
about  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet.  The  leallets  arc  short-  only  two  or 
three  inches  long,  and  five  in  a  sheath  ;   the  bark  of  a  red  color. 

Decc»iher  9///.  -The  trail  leads  always  through  splendid  pine  forests. 
Crossing  dividing  grounds  by  a  very  fine  road,  we  descendctl  very  n-entlv 
toward  the  south.  The  weather  was  pleasant,  and  we  halted  late.  The 
soil  was  very  much  like  that  of  yesterday  ;  and  on  the  surface  of  a  hill,  near 
our  encampment,  were  displayed  beds  of  pumice-stone ;  but  the  soil  pm- 
duced  no  grass,  and  again  the  animals  fared  badly. 

December  \oth. — The  country  began  to  improve;  and  about  eleven 
o'clock  we  reached  a  spring  of  cold  water  on  the  edge  of  a  savannah,  or 
grassy  meadow,  which  our  guides  informed  us  was  an  arm  of  the  Tlamath 
Lake  ;  and  a  few  miles  farther  we  entered  upon  an  extensive  meadow,  or 
lake  of  grass,  surrounded  by  timberetl  mount. .ins.  This  was  ilie  Tlaniaih 
Lake.  It  was  a  picturesque  and  beautiful  spot,  and  rendered  more  attrac- 
tive to  us  by  the  abundant  and  excellent  grass,  which  our  animals,  after 
travelling  through  pine  forests,  so  much  needed  ;  but  the  broad  sheet  d' 
water  which  constitutes  a  lake  was  not  to  be  seen.  Overlookine  it,  im- 
mediately  west,  were  several  snowy  knobs,  belonging  to  what  we  hav<: 
considered  a  branch  of  the  Cascade  range.  A  low  point  covered  with  pines 
made  out  into  the  lake,  which  afforded  us  a  good  place  for  an  encampment, 
and  fo*"  the  security  of  oin-  horses,  which  were  guarded  in  view  on  the  open 
meauc  ■,- 

The  character  of  courage  and  hostility  attributed  to  the  Indians  of  this 
quarter  induced  more  than  usual  precaution  ;  and,  seeing  smokes  risin.; 
from  the  middle  of  the  lake  (or  savannah)  anil  along  the  opposite  shore-, 
I  directed  the  howitzer  to  be  fired.  It  was  the  first  time  our  guides  haJ 
seen  it  discharged  ;  and  the  bursting  of  the  shell  at  a  distance,  which  was 
something  like  the  second  fire  of  the  gun,  amazed  and  bewildered  them  with 
delight.  It  inspired  them  with  triumphant  feelings  ;  but  on  the  camps  at 
a  distance  the  effect  was  different,  for  the  smokes  in  the  lake  and  on  the 
shores  immediately  disappeared. 

The  point  on  which  we  were  encamped  forms,  with  the  opposite  eastern 
shore,  a  narrow  neck,  connecting  the  body  of  the  lake  with  a  deep  cove  or 
bay  which  receives  the  principal  affluent  stream,  and  over  the  greater  part 
of  which  the  water  (or  rather  ice)  v/as  at  this  time  dispersed  in  shallow 
pools.  Among  the  grass,  and  scattered  over  the  prairie  lake,  appeared  to 
be  similar  marshes.     It  is  simply  a  shallow  basin,  which,  for  a  short  period 


SECOyi^  EXPEDITION— TLAMATH  LAKE— A  HANDSOME  INDIAN.    297 

at  the  time  of  melting  snows,  is  covered  with  water  from  the  neighboring- 
mountains  ;  but  this  probably  soon  runs  off,  and  leaves  for  the  remainder 
ofthe  veara  green  savannah,  through  the  midst  of  which  the  river  Tla- 
math,  which  flows  to  the  ocean,  winds  its  way  to  the  outlet  on  the  south- 
western side. 

December  wth. — No  Indians  made  their  appearance,  and  I  determined 
to  i)av  thcni  a  visit.  Accordingly,  the  people  were  gathered  together,  and 
we  rode  out  toward  the  village  in  the  middle  of  the  lake,  which  one  of  our 
cuides  had  previously  visited.  It  could  not  be  directly  approached,  as  a 
lart,'e  part  of  the  lake  appeared  a  marsh  ;  and  there  were  sheets  of  ice 
amon*^  the  grass,  on  which  our  horses  could  not  keep  their  footing.  We 
therefore  followed  the  guide  for  a  considerable  distance  along  the  forest ; 
and  then  turned  off  toward  the  village,  which  we  soon  began  to  see  was  a 
few  lart^fc  huts,  on  the  top  of  which  were  collected  the  Indians.  When  we 
had  arrived  within  half  a  mile  ofthe  village,  two  persons  were  seen  advanc- 
m  to  meet  us  ;  and,  to  please  the  fancy  of  our  guides,  we  ranged  ourselves 
into  a  long  line,  riding  abreast,  while  they  galloped  ahead  to  meet  the 
^tran;^rers. 

We  were  surprised,  on  riding  up,  to  find  one  of  them  a  woman,  having 
p.cver  before  known  a  squaw  to  take  any  part  in  the  business  of  war.  They 
were  the  village  chief  and  his  wife,  who,  in  excitement  and  alarm  at  the  un- 
isual  event  and  appearance,  had  come  out  to  meet  their  fate  together.  The 
chief  was  a  very  prepossessing  Indian,  with  very  handsome  features,  and 
a  singularly  soft  and  agreeable  voice — so  remarkable  as  to  attract  general 
notice. 

The  huts  were  grouped  together  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  which  from 
beinff  spread  out  in  a  shallow  marsh  at  the  upper  end  of  the  lake,  was  col- 
lected here  into  a  single  stream.  They  were  large  round  huts,  perhaps 
twenty  feet  in  diameter,  with  rounded  tops,  on  which  was  the  door  by  which 
they  descended  into  the  interior.  Within,  they  were  supported  by  posts 
and  beams. 

Ahnost  like  plants,  these  people  seem  to  have  adapted  themselves  to 
the  soil,  and  to  be  growing  on  what  the  immediate  locality  afforded.  Their 
only  subsistence  at  this  time  appeared  to  be  a  small  fish,  great  quantities  of 
which,  had  l)een  smoked  and  dried,  were  suspended  on  strings  about 
tlie  lodge.  Heaps  of  straw  were  lying  around  ;  and  their  residence  in  the 
midst  of  grass  and  rushes  had  taught  them  a  peculiar  skill  in  converting 
this  material  to  useful  purposes.  Their  shoes  were  made  of  straw  or  grass, 
which  seemed  well  adapted  for  a  snowy  country  ;  and  the  women  wore  on 
their  head  a  closely-woven  basket,  which  made  a  very  good  cap.  Among 
other  things,  were  parti-colored  mats  about  four  feet  square,  which  we  pur- 
diased  to  lay  on  the  snow  under  our  blankets,  and  to  use  for  table-cloths. 


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198 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FR/iMOXT. 


Numbers  of  singular-looking  dogs,  resembling  wolves,  were  sitting  on 
the  tops  of  the  huts  ;  and  of  these  we  purchased  a  young  one,  which,  after 
its  birthplace,  was  named  Tlamath. 

The  language  spoken  by  these   Indians  is  different  from  that  of  the 
Shoshonee  and  Columbia  River  tribes  ;  and  otherwise  than  by  si'nis  thcv 
caimot  understand  each  other.     They  made  us  comprehend  that  thev  wer 
at  war  with  the  Modoc  who  lived  to  the  southward  and  to  the  eastward- 
but  I  could  obtain  from  them  no  certain  information. 

The  river  on  which  they  live  enters  the  Cascade  Mountains  on  the 
western  side  of  the  lake,  and  breaks  through  them  by  a  passage  imprac- 
ticable for  travellers  ;  but  over  the  mountains,  to  the  northward,  arc  passes 
which  present  no  other  obstacle  than  in  the  almost  impenetrable  forests. 
Unlike  any  Indians  we  had  previously  seen,  these  wore  shells  in  their 
noses.  We  returned  to  our  camp  after  remaining  here  an  hour  or  two, 
accompanied  by  a  number  of  Indians. 

In  order  to  recruit  a  little  the  strength  of  our  animals,  and  obtain  some 
acquaintance  with  the  locality,  we  remained  here  for  the  remainder  of  the 
day.  By  observation,  the  latitude  of  the  camp  was  42°  56'  51";  and  the 
diameter  of  the  lake,  or  meadow,  as  has  been  intimated,  about  twenty  miles. 
It  is  a  picturesque  and  beautiful  spot  ;  and,  under  the  hand  of  cultivation, 
might  become  a  little  paradise.  Game  is  found  in  the  forest;  timbered 
and  snowy  mountains  skirt  it,  and  fertility  characterizes  it.  Situated  nenr 
the  heads  of  three  rivers,  and  on  the  line  of  inland  communication  wiili 
California,  and  near  to  Indians  noted  for  treachery,  it  will  naturally,  in  the 
progress  of  the  settlement  of  Oregon,  become  a  point  for  military  occupa- 
tion and  settlement. 

From  Tlamath  Lake,  the  further  continuation  of  our  voyage  assumed 
a  character  of  discovery  and  e.xploration,  which,  from  the  Indians  here,  we 
could  obtain  no  information  to  direct,  and  where  the  imaginary  maps  of  the 
country,  instead  oi  assisting,  exposed  us  to  suffering  and  defeat.  In  our 
journey  across  the  desert,  INIary's  Lake,  and  the  famous  liuenaventura 
River,  were  two  points  o;i  which  I  relied  to  recruit  the  animals,  and  repose 
the  party. 

h'orming,  agreeably  to  the  best  maps  in  my  possession,  a  connected 
water-line  from  the  Rocky  Mountains  to  the  Pacific  Ocean,  I  felt  no  other 
an.xiety  than  to  pass  safely  across  the  intervening  desert  to  the  banks  ot 
the  Buenaventura,  where,  in  the  softer  climate  of  a  more  southern  latitude, 
our  horses  might  lind  grass  to  sustain  them,  and  ourselves  be  sheltered 
from  the  rigors  of  winter  antl  from  the  inhospitable  desert. 

The  guides  who  had  conducted  us  thus  far  on  our  journey,  were  abo;;r 
to  return  ;  and  I  endeavored  in  vain  to  obtain  others  to  lead  us,  even  lor 
a  few  days,  in  the  direction  (east)  which  we  wished  to  go.     The  chief  to 


SECOND  EXPEDfTION— THERMOMETER   AT  ZERO. 


299 


whom  I  applied  alleged  the  want  of  horses,  and  the  snow  on  the  moun- 
tains across  which  our  course  would  carry  us,  and  the  sickness  of  his  family, 
as  reasons  for  refusing  to  go  with  us. 

December  is/"/^.  -This  morning  the  camp  was  thronged  with  Tlamath 
Indians  from  the  southeastern  shore  of  the  lake  ;  but,  knowing  the  treach- 
erous disposition,  which  is  a  remarkable  characteristic  of  the  Indians  south 
of  the  Columbia,  the  camp  was  kept  constantly  on  its  guard.  I  was  not 
unmindful  of  the  disasters  which  Smith  and  other  travellers  had  met  with 
in  this  country,  and  therefore  was  et[ually  vigilant  in  guarding  against 
treachery  and  violence. 

According  to  the  best  information  I  had  been  able  to  obtain  from  the 
Indians,  in  a  few  days'  travelling  we  should  reach  another  large  water, 
probably  a  lake,  which  they  indicated  exactly  in  the  course  we  were  about 
to  pursue. 

We  struck  our  tents  at  ten  o'clock,  and  crossed  the  lake  in  a  nearly 
east  direction,  where  it  has  the  least  extension — -the  breadth  of  the  arm 
beinjj  here  only  about  n  mile  and  a  half.  There  were  ponds  of  ice,  with 
b;:t  Htde  grass  for  the  greater  part  of  the  way  ;  and  it  was  difficult  to  get 
tlu*  pack-animals  across,  which  fell  frequently,  and  could  not  get  up  with 
thtir  loads,  unassisted.  The  morning  was  very  unpleasant,  snow  falling 
at  intervals  in  large  flakes,  and  the  sky  dark. 

In  about  two  hours  we  succeeded  in  getting  the  animals  over ;  and, 
alter  trav(dlin<r  another  hour  alonQ-  the  eastern  shore  of  the  lake,  we  turned 
up  into  a  cove  where  there  was  a  sheltered  place  among  the  timber,  with 
::oud  grass,  and  encamped.  The  Indians  who  had  accompanied  us  so  far, 
returned  to  their  village  on  the  southeastern  shore.  Among  the  pines 
Iierc,  I  noticed  some  five  or  six  feet  in  diameter. 

December  13///. — -The  night  has  Ijcen  cold  ;  the  peaks  around  the  lake 
;;!eam  out  brightly  in  the  morning  sun,  and  the;  thermometer  is  at  zero. 
We  continued  up  the  hollow  formed  by  a  small  affluent  to  the  lak(\  and 
ir.imediately  entered  an  open  pine  forest  on  the  mountain.  The  way  here 
\va>  sometimes  obstructed  by  fallen  trees,  and  the  snow  was  four  to  twelve 
mdies  deep.  The  mules  at  the  gun  pulled  heavily,  and  walking  was  a 
'ittle  laborious. 

In  the  midst  of  the  wood  we  heard  the  sound  of  galloping  horse.;,  ami 
'■'ere  agreeably  surprised  by  the  unexpected  arrival  of  our  Tlamath  chief 
v;th  several  Indians.  He  seemed  to  have  found  his  conduct  inhospitalile 
;:i  letting  the  strangers  depart  without  a  guide  through  the  snow,  and  had 
'Onie,  with  a  tew  others,  to  pilot  us  a  day  or  two  on  the  way.  After  trav- 
elling in  an  easterly  direction  through  the  forest,  for  about  four  hours,  we 
readied  a  considerable  stream,  with  a  border  of  good  grass  ;  and  here,  by 
tne  advice  of  our  guides,  we  encamped.      It  is  about  thirty  feet  wide,  and 


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mj:.];o/ks  or  jrv  life—john  charles  erP.moxt. 


two  to  four  feet  deep  ;  the  water  clear,  with  some  current ;  and,  accordin ' 
to  tliu  information  of  our  Indians,  is  the  principal  aftluent  to  the  hike,  ana 
the  head-water  of  the  Tlamath  River. 

A  very  clear  sky  enabled  me  to  obtain  hereto-night  good  observations, 
including  an  emersion  of  the  first  satellite  of  Jupiter,  which  ^^wnz  for  tin 
longitude  121"  20'  42",  and  for  the  latitude  42"  51'  26".  This  emersion 
coincides  remarkably  well  with  the  result  obtained  from  an  occultation  ar 
the  encampment  of  December  7  to  8,  1843;  froni  which  place  tiie  line  of 
our  survey  gives  an  easting  of  thirteen  miles.  The  day's  journey  wa , 
twelve  miles. 

Dcccmhcy  \\lh.  Our  road  was  over  a  broad  mountain,  and  we  rodi' 
seven  hours  in  a  thick  snow-storm,  always  through  pine-forests,  when  wr 
came  down  upon  the  head- waters  of  another  stream,  on  which  there  wa , 
grass.  The  snow  lay  deep  on  the  ground,  and  only  the  high  swamp  gras. 
appeared  above. 

The  Indians  were  thinly  clad,  and  I  had  remarked  during  the  day  that 
they  suffered  from  the  cold.  This  evening  they  told  me  that  the  snow  ww 
getting  too  deep  on  the  mountain,  and  I  could  not  induce  them  to  go  anv 
farther.  The  stream  we  had  struck  issued  from  the  mountain  in  an  ea-^t- 
erly  direction,  turning  to  the  southward  a  short  distance  below  ;  and,  draw- 
ing its  course  upon  the  ground,  they  made  us  comprehend  that  it  pursin;! 
its  way  for  a  long  distance  in  that  direction,  uniting  with  many  other 
streams,  and  gradually  becoming  a  great  river. 

Without  the  subsequent  information,  which  confirmed  the  opinion,  we 
became  immediately  satisfied  that  this  water  formed  the  principal  stream 
of  the  Sacramento  River ;  and,  consequently,  that  this  main  affluent  u! 
the  Bay  of  San  Francisco  had  its  source  within  the  limits  of  the  Unitti 
States,  and  opposite  a  tributary  to  the  Columbia,  and  near  the  head  ot  the 
Tlamath  River,  which  goes  to  the  ocean  north  of  42",  and  within  the  Unittil 
States. 

December  15//^.— A  present  consisting  of  useful  goods  afforded  much 
satisfaction  to  our  guides  ;  and,  showing  them  the  national  fiag,  I  explainer! 
that  it  was  a  symbol  of  our  nation  ;  and  they  engaged  always  to  receive  it 
in  a  friendly  manner.  The  chief  pointed  out  a  course,  by  following  whicli 
we  would  arrive  at  the  big  water,  where  no  more  snow  was  to  be  found. 

Travelling  in  a  direction  North  60"  East  by  compass,  which  the  Indians 
informed  me  would  avoid  a  bad  mountain  to  the  right,  we  crossed  the  Sac- 
ramento where  it  turned  to  the  southward,  and  entered  a  grassy  levti 
plain — a  smaller  Grand  Rond  ;  from  the  lower  end  of  which  the  river  is- 
sued into  an  inviting  country  of  low  rolling  hills.  Crossing  a  hard  trozen 
svamp  on  the  farther  side  of  the  Rond,  we  entered  again  the  pine  lorest, 
in  which  very  deep  snow  made  our  travelling  slow  and  laborious.    »*; 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— A  BEAUTIFUL  COUNTRY  AT  OUR  EEET.     301 

wire  slowly  but  gradually  ascendin^^  a  mountain  ;  and,  alter  a  hard  journey 
ul  seven  hours,  we  came  to  some  naked  places  among  the  timber,  where  a 
lew  tufts  of  grass  showed  above  the  snow,  on  the  side  of  a  hollow  ;  antl 
here  \vc  encamped.  Our  cow,  which  every  day  got  poorer,  was  killed  here, 
but  the  meat  was  rather  tough. 

Dcconhcr  \6//i. — We  travelled  this  morning  through  snow  about  three 
llct  deep,  which,  bi;ing  crusted,  very  much  cut  the  feet  of  our  animals. 
The  mountain  still  gradually  rose  ;  we  crossed  several  spring  heatls  cov- 
ered with  quaking  asp,  otherwise  it  was  all  pine  forest.  The  air  was  dark 
with  fallin(,r  snow,  which  everywhere  weighed  down  the  trees.  The  depths 
of  the  forest  were  profoundly  still  ;  and  below,  we  scarce  felt  a  breath  of 
the  wind  which  whirled  the  snow  through  their  branches. 

I  found  tliat  it  required  some  exertion  of  constancy  to  adhere  steadily 
to  one  course  througii  the  woods,  when  we  were  uncertain  how  far  thi; 
i'orest  extended,  or  what  lay  beyond  ;  anil  on  account  of  our  animals  it 
would  be  bad  to  spend  another  night  on  the  mountain.  Toward  noon 
the  forest  looked  clear  ahead,  appearing  suddenly  to  terminate;  and  be- 
vond  a  certain  point  we  could  see  no  trees.  Riding  rapidly  ahead  to  this 
spot,  we  found  ourselves  on  the  verge  of  a  vertical  and  rocky  wall  of  the 
mountain. 

At  our  feet — more  than  a  thousand  feet  below — we  looked  into  a  green 
prairie  country,  in  which  a  beautiful  lake,  some  twenty  miles  in  lengtli,  was 
spread  along  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  its  shores  bordered  with  green 
j,'rass.  Just  then  the  sun  broke  out  among  the  clouds,  and  illuminated  the 
country  belows  while  around  us  the  storm  raged  fiercely.  Not  a  particle 
of  ice  was  to  be  seen  on  the  lake,  or  snow  on  its  borders,  and  all  was  like 
summer  or  spring.  The  glow  of  the  sun  in  the  valley  below  brightened 
up  our  hearts  with  sudden  pleasure  ;  and  we  made  the  woods  ring  with 
joyful  shouts  to  those  behind  ;  and  gradually,  as  each  came  up,  he  stopped 
to  enjoy  the  unexpected  scene.  Shivering  on  snow  three  feet  deep,  and 
stiflening  in  a  cold  north  wind,  we  exclaimed  at  once  that  the  names  of 
Summer  Lake  and  Winter  Ridge  should  be  applied  to  these  two  proximate 
places  of  such  sudden  and  violent  contrast. 

We  were  now^  immediately  on  the  verge  of  the  forest  land,  in  which  we 
bd  been  travelling  so  many  days  ;  and,  looking  forward  to  the  east,  scarce 
a  tree  was  to  be  seen.  Viewed  from  our  elevation,  the  face  of  the  country 
exhibited  only  rocks  and  grass,  and  presented  a  region  in  which  the  arte- 
misia  became  the  principal  wood,  furnishing  to  its  scattered  inhabitants  fuel 
tor  their  fires,  building  material  for  their  huts,  and  shelter  for  the  small 
game  which  ministers  to  their  hunger  and  nakedness.  Broadly  marked  by 
the  boundary  of  the  mountain  wall,  and  immediately  below  us,  were  the 
hrst  waters  of  that  Great  Interior  Basin  which  has  the  Wahsatch  and  Bear 


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MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRtiMONT, 


River  Mountains  for  its  eastern,  and  the  Sierra  Nevada  for  its  western  rim 
and  the  edge  of  which  we  had  entered  upward  of  three  montiis  before  at 
the  Great  Salt  Lake. 

When  we  had  sufficiently  admired  the  scene  below,  we  bcoaii  to  think 
about  descending,  which  here  was  impossible,  and  we  turned  toward  the 
north,  travelling  always  along  the  rocky  wall.  We  continued  on  for  four 
or  five  miles,  making  ineffectual  attempts  at  several  places  ;  aiul  at  lensrth 
succeeded  in  getting  down  at  one  which  was  extremely  difficult  of  descent. 
Night  had  closed  in  before  the  foremost  reached  the  bottom,  and  it  was 
dark  before  we  all  found  ourselves  together  in  the  vallt;y.  There  wen; 
three  or  four  half-dead  dry  cedar-trees  on  the  shore,  and  those  who  first 
arrived  kindled  bright  fires  to  light  on  the  others. 

One  of  the  mules  rolled  over  and  over  two  or  three  hundred  feet  into  a 
ravine,  but  recovered  himself,  without  any  other  injury  than  to  his  pack; 
and  the  howitzer  was  left  mid-way  the  mountain  until  morning.  By  ob- 
servation, the  latitude  of  this  encampment  is  42°  57'  22".  It  delayed  us 
until  near  noon  the  ne.xt  day  to  recover  ourselves,  and  put  everythin^nn 
order  ;  and  we  made  only  a  short  camp  along  the  western  shore  of  the 
lake,  which,  in  the  summer  temperature  we  enjoyed  to-day,  justified  the 
name  we  had  given  it. 

Our  course  would  have  taken  us  to  the  other  shore,  and  over  the  high- 
lands beyond  ;  but  I  distrusted  the  appearance  of  the  country,  and  decided 
to  follow  a  plainly  beaten  Indian  trail  leading  along  this  side  of  the  lake. 
We  were  now  in  a  country  where  the  scarcity  of  water  and  of  grass  makes 
travelling  dangerous,  and  great  caution  was  necessary. 

December  18//'.  We  continued  on  the  trail  along  the  narrow  strip  of 
land  between  the  lake  and  the  high  rocky  wall,  from  which  we  had  Inokca 
down  two  days  before.  Almost  every  half-mile  we  crossed  a  litde  sprin^j. 
or  stream  of  pure  cold  water  ;  and  the  grass  was  certainly  as  fresh  and 
green  as  in  the  early  spring.  I'rom  the  white  efflorescence  aloni,^  tlic 
shore  of  the  lake,  we  were  enabled  to  judge  that  the  water  was  impure, 
like  thai  of  lakes  we  subsequently  found  ;  but  the  nuul  [jrevented  us  Irom 
approaching  it. 

We  encamped  near  the  eastern  point  of  the  lake,  Avhere  there  appeard 
between  the  hills  a  broad  and  low  connecting  hollow  with  the  country  be- 
yond. From  a  rocky  hill  in  tlie  rear,  I  could  see,  marked  out  by  a  line  ol 
yellow  dried  grass,  the  bed  of  a  stream  which  probably  connected  the  lake 
with  other  waters  in  the  spring. 

The  observed  latitude  of  this  encampment  is  .\2°  42'  37". 

December  \c)lh. — .'\fter  two  hours'  ride  in  an  easterly  direction  through 
a  low  country,  the  high  ridge  with  pine  forests  still  to  our  ri;,dit,  and  a 
rocky  and  bald  but  lower  one  on  the  left,  we  reached  a  considerable  fresh- 


COND  KXP EDITION  LAKE  AIUIKT. 


30.1 


water  stream,  which  issues  from  the  piny  mountains.     So  far  as  wc  liad 
been  able  to  judge,  between  this  stream  and  the  lake  we  had  crossed  di- 
\.\\\v<  grounds  ;  and  there  diil  not  appear  to  be  any  conn(;ction,  as  nii^^ht 
be  inferred  from  the  impure  condition  of  tlie  lake  water. 

The  rapid  stream  of  pure  water,  roarint,'  aloiiif  betwf^en  banks  overhuntr 
with  .i^peii^  and  ,/illows,  was  a  refreshing;  and  une.xpccted  si^ht ;  and  w 
:o!lo\vecl  down  the  coursi;  of  the  stream  wiiich  broui^ht  us  soon  into  ;i. 
marsh,  or  dry  lake,  formed  by  the  expaiulinj^  waters  of  the  stream.  It 
was  covered  with  hi.i,di  reeds  and  rushes,  and  large  patches  of  ground  had 
been  turned  up  by  the  scpiaws  in  digging  for  roots,  as  if  a  farmer  had  been 
pre|jarin;j;-  the  laml  for  grain. 

I  coiikl  not  succeed  in  finding  the  plant  for  which  they  had  been  dig- 
"inL'.  There  were  frecpient  trails,  and  fresh  tracks  of  Indians  ;  and,  from 
the  abundant  signs  visible,  the  black-tailed  hare  appears  to  be  numerous 
here.  It  was  evident  that,  in  other  seasons,  this  place  was  a  sheet  of 
water.  Crossing  this  marsh  toward  the  eastern  hills,  and  jnissing  over  a 
bordering  plain  of  heavy  sands,  covered  with  artemisia,  we  encamped  be- 
fore sundown  on  the  creek,  which  here  was  very  small,  having  lost  its 
uater  in  the  '  ^''shy  grounds.  We  found  here  tolerably  good  grass.  T"h«: 
wind  tonig  's  high,  and  we  had  no  longer  our  huge  pine  fires,  but 

were  drive..  our  old  resource  of  small  dried  willows  and  artemisia. 
About  twelve  miles  ahead,  the  valley  appears  to  be  closed  in  by  a  high 
lark-looking  ridge. 

December  2o!lt.  T'ravelling  for  a  few  hours  down  the  stream  this  morn- 
in;',  we  turned  a  point  of  the  hill  on  our  left,  and  came  suddenly  in  sight  of 
another  and  much  larger  lake,  which,  along  its  eastern  shore,  was  closely 
'  onlcred  bv  the  high  black  ridge  which  walled  it  in  l)y  a  precipitous  face  on 
.ii~.  side.  Throughout  this  region  tlu;  face  of  the  country  is  characterized 
ly  these  precipices  of  black  volcanic  rock,  generally  enclosing  the  valleys 
i>f  streams,  and  frecpiently  terminating  the  hills. 

Often  in  the  course;  of  our  journey  we  would  be  tempted  to  continue; 
our  road  iij)  the  gentle  ascent  of  a  sloping  hill,  which,  at  the  summit,  would 
teiminate  abruptly  in  a  black  precipice.  Spread  out  over  a  length  of  twenty 
:'.iiles,  the  lake,  when  we  first  came  in  view,  presented  a  handsome  slu:et 
it  water;  and  I  gave  to  it  the  nam';  of  Lake  Abert,  in  honor  of  the  chi(;r 
li  the  corps  to  which  I  belonged. 

The  fresh-water  stream  we  had  followed  emptied  into  the  lake  by  a 
little  tall ;  an  .1  I  was  doubtful  for  a  moment  whether  to  go  on,  or  encam[j 
a\  this  place.  The  miry  ground  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  lake  did  not 
allow  us  to  examine  the  water  conveniently,  and,  being  now  on  the  borders 
of^  a  desert  country,  we  were  moving  cautiously.  It  was,  however,  still 
early  in  the  day,  and  I  continued  on,  trusting  either  that  the  water  would 


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304 


.]/EMOlRS  OF  MV  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRIlMONT. 


be  drinkable,  or  that  we  should  find  some  little  spring  from  the  hill-Mcle 
We  were  following  an  Indian  trail  which  led  along  the  steep  rocky  prL'ri- 
pice  ;  a  black  ridge  along  the  western  shore  holding  out  no  prospect  wIku- 
cver.  The  wliite  eftlorescences  which  lined  the  shore  like  a  bankof  si.ow 
and  the  disagreeable  odor  which  filled  the  air  as  soon  as  we  came  near,  in- 
formed us  too  plainly  that  the  water  belonged  to  one  of  those  fetid  sak 
lakes  which  are  common  in  this  region. 

We  continued  until  late  in  the  evening  to  work  along  the  rocky  shore, 
but,  as  often  afterward,  the  dry  inhospitable  rock  deceived  us ;  and,  lialt- 
ing  on  the  lake,  we  kindled  up  fires  to  guide  those  who  were  strai'^'^iiiip 
along  behind.  We  tried  the  water,  but  it  was  impossible  to  drink  it,  aiiii 
most  of  the  people  to-night  lay  down  without  eating  ;  but  some  of  us,  who 
had  always  a  great  relMciance  to  close  the  day  without  su[)per,  (Ui<i-  hok;s 
along  the  shore,  and  obtained  water,  wh'ch,  being  filtered,  was  sufficientlv 
palatable  to  be  used,  but  still  retained  much  of  its  nauseating  taste.  There 
was  very  little  grass  for  the  animals,  the  shore  being  lined  with  a  luxuriant 
growth  of  chenopodiaceous-shrubs,  which  burned  with  u  quick  briyht  llame, 
and  made  our  firewood. 

The  next  morning  we  had  scarcely  travelled  two  hours  along  the  short 
when  we  r':>achcd  a  place  where  the  mountains  made  a  bay,  leaving  at  their 
feet  a  low  bottom  around  the  lake.  Mere  we  found  numerous  hillocks 
covered  with  rushes,  in  the  midst  of  which  were  deep  holes,  or  sprini^rs,  cf 
pure  water;  and  the  bottom  was  covered  with  gra<s,  which,  although  of  a 
bad  and  unwholesome  ([uality,  and  mixed  with  saline  efflorescences,  was 
still  abundant,  and  made  a  good  halting-place  to  recruit  our  animals ;  ami 
we  accordingly  encamped  here  for  the  remainder  of  the  day. 

I  rode  al\.:ad  several  miles  to  ascertain  if  tb.ere  was  any  appearance  of 
a  water-course  entering  the  lake,  but  found  none,  the  hills  preserving  their 
drj'  character,  antl  the  shore  of  the  lake  sprinkled  with  the  same  whiti- 
powdery  substance,  and  covered  with  the  same  shrubs.  There  were  (locks 
of  ducks  on  the  lake,  ami  frequent  tracks  of  Indians  along  the  shore,  where 
the  grass  had  been  recently  burned  by  their  fires. 

We  ascended  the  bordering  mountain,  in  order  to  obtain  a  more  perfect 
view  of  the  lake  in  sketching  its  figure  ;  hills  swee[>  entirely  around  its 
basin,  from  which  the  waters  have  no  outlet. 

December  Z2d.  -To-day  we  l::ift  tliis  forbidding  lake  Impassable  rocky 
ridges  barred  our  progress  to  the  eastward,  and  I  accordingly  bore  off  to- 
ward the  south,  over  an  extensive  sage  plain.  At  a  considerable  distance 
ahead,  and  a  little  on  our  left,  was  a  range  of  snowy  m  HUitaii.s,  and  the 
c  untry  declined  gradually  toward  the  foot  of  a  high  and  nearer  ridge  im- 
mediately before  us,  which  presented  tht  feature  of  black  precipices,  now 
becoming  common  to  the  country. 


'!        II 


m 


SECO.yn  EXPEDITION— CELEBK A  Timi  CHRISTMAS  MORNING.     305 

On  the  summit  of  the  ridge,  snow  was  visible  ;  and  there  being  every 
iiulicntioii  of  a  stream  at  its  base,  we  rode  on  until  after  dark,  but  were  un- 
able to  n-'ach  it,  and  halted  among  tiie  sage  bushes  on  the  open  plain,  with- 
out cither  grass  or  water.  The  two  india-rubber  bags  had  been  tilled  with 
water  in  tlu;  morning,  which  afforded  sufficient  for  the  camp  ;  and  rain  in 
the  iiii,'ht-formed  pools,  which  relieved  the  thirst  of  the  animals.  Wiicre 
we  encamped  on  the  bleak  sandy  plain,  the  Indians  had  made  huts  or  cir- 
cular enclosures,  about  four  feet  high  and  twelve  feet  broad,  of  artemisia 
bushes.  Whether  these  had  been  forts  or  houses,  or  what  they  had  been 
Join"'  in  such  a  desert  place,  we  could  not  ascertain. 

December  23^^/.  -I'he  weather  is  mild  ;  the  thermometer  at  daylight  38  ' ; 
tiie  wind  having  been  from  the  southward  for  several  days.  The  country 
has  a  very  forbidding  appeanince,  prcisenting  to  the  eye  nothing  but  sage 
and  barren  ridges.  We  rode  up  toward  the  mountain,  along  the  foot  of 
which  we  found  a  lake,  which  we  could  not  approach  on  account  of  the 
mud ;  and,  passing  around  its  southern  end,  ascended  the  slope  at  the  foot 
(if  the  ridge,  where  in  some  hollows  we  had  discovered  bushes  and  small 
trees— in  such  situations  a  sure  sign  of  water. 

We  found  here  several  springs,  and  the  hill-side  was  well  sprinkled  with 
a  species  q{  festuca — a  better  grass  than  we  had  found  for  many  days. 
Our  elevated  position  gave  us  a  good  view  ovi^r  tlui  comitry,  but  we  dis- 
covered nothing  very  encouraging.  Southward,  about  ten  miles  distant, 
was  another  small  lake,  to\  ard  which  a  broad  trail  led  along  the  ridge  ; 
and  this  ap[)earing  to  affunl  the  most  practicable  route,  I  determined  to 
continnc  our  journey  in  that  tlirection. 

Dceeiiihey  2\th.  We  found  the  water  of  the  lake  tolerably  pure,  and 
encamped  at  the  farther  end.  There  ^vere  suuie  good  grass  and  canes 
along  the  shore,  and  the  vegetation  at  this  place  consisted  principally  of 
cheniipoiliaccous  shrubs. 

D.i ember  2^tli.  We  were  roused  on  Christmas  morning,  by  a  discharge 
from  tl'C  small  arms  and  howitzer,  with  which  our  people  saluted  the  day  ; 
and  the  name  of  which  we  bestowed  on  the  lake.  It  was  the  first  tim(\ 
perhaps,  in  this  .-emote  and  desolate  region,  in  which  it  had  been  so  com- 
memorated. 

Always,  on  days  of  religious  or  national  commemoration,  our  voyageurs 
expect  some  unusual  allowance  ;  and,  having  nothing  else,  !  gave  to  them 
each  a  'ittle  brandy  (which  was  carefully  guarded  as  one  of  the  most  use- 
ful articles  a  traveller  can  carry)  with  some  coffee  and  sugar,  which  here, 
where  every  eatable  was  a  luxury,  was  sufficient  to  make  them  a  feast. 
The  day  was  sunny  and  warm,  and,  resuming  our  journey,  we  crossed 
som?  slii^dit  dividing  grounds  into  a  similar  basin,  walled  in  on  the  right  by 
;i  lofty  mountain  ridge.     The  plainly  beaten  trail  still  continued,  and  occa- 


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306 


MEMOIJiS  OF  A/V  LTFE—JOHN  CHARLES  FRj^MONT. 


sionally  we  passed  camping-grounds  of  the  Indians,  which  indicated  to  me 
that  we  were  on  one  of  the  great  thoroughfares  of  the  country. 

In  the  afternoon  I  attempted  to  travel  in  a  more  eastern  direction  ■  but 
after  a  few  laborious  miles,  was  beaten  back  into  the  basin  by  an  im- 
passable country.  There  were  fresh  Indian  tracks  about  the  valley,  and 
last  night  a  horse  was  stolen.  We  encamped  on  the  valley  bottom,  whtre 
there  was  s^me  cream-like  water  in  ponds,  colored  by  a  clay  soil  and  frozen 
ovc;r.  Chenopodiaceous  shrubs  constituted  the  growth,  and  nude  attain 
our  firewood.  The  animals  were  driven  to  the  hill,  where  there  was  tol- 
erably good  grass. 

December  26//^.  -Our  general  course  was  again  south.  The  country 
consists  of  larger  or  smaller  basins,  into  which  the  mountain  waters  run 
down,  forming  small  lakes ;  they  present  a  perfect  level,  from  which  the 
mountains  rise  immediately  and  abruptly.  Between  the  successive  basins, 
the  dividing  grounds  are  usually  very  slight;  and  it  is  probable  that,  in 
the  seasons  of  high  water,  many  of  these  basins  are  in  communication.  .At 
such  times  there  is  evidently  an  abumlance  of  water,  though  now  we  find 
scarcely  more  than  the  dry  beds. 

On  either  side,  the  mountains,  though  not  very  high,  appear  to  be  rocky 
and  sterile.  The  basin  in  which  we  were  travelling  derlined  toward  the 
southwest  corner,  where  the  mountains  indicated  a  n-.-row  outlet ;  and, 
turning  round  a  rocky  point  or  cape,  we  continued  u[)  a  lateral  branch 
valley,  in  which  we  encamped  at  night  on  a  rapid,  pretty  litde  stream  ol 
fresh  water,  which  wc  found  une.Kpectedly  among  the  sige  near  the  ridge, 
on  the  right  side  of  the  valley.  It  was  bordered  with  grassy  bottoms  and 
clumps  of  willows,  the  water  partially  frozen.  This  stream  bclonijfs  to  the 
basin  we  had  left.  By  a  partial  obsc^rvation  to-night,  our  camp  was  found 
to  be  directly  on  the  forty-second  parallel.  To-night  a  horse  htdongini,^ 
10  Carson,  one  of  the  best  w  had  in  the  camp,  was  stolen  by  tlie  Indians. 

December  z'jt/i.  —We  continued  up  the  valley  of  the  stream,  the  prin- 
cipal branch  of  which  here  issues  from  the  bed  of  hi,;h  mountains.  We 
turiKjil  up  a  branch  to  the  left,  and  fell  into  an  Indian  trail,  which  conducted 
lis  b\'  a  good  road  over  open  bottoms  along  the  cn-ek,  where;  the  snow 
was  five  or  dx  inches  deep.  Gradually  ascending,  the  trail  Kd  through;) 
go()(,l  broad  pass  in  the  mountain,  udicre  we  found  the  snow  about  one  l')"l 
deep. 

There  w<u"e  some,  remarkably  large  cedars  in  the  pass  which  wore  cov- 
ereil  with  a'",  unusual  ([uanlit\  of  frost,  which  wc.  supposed  miy;ht  possibly 
indicate  the  neighborhood  of  water;  anil  as,  in  the  arbitrary  position  ol 
Mary's  Lake,  we  were  already  beginning  to  look  for  it,  this  circumstance 
contributed  to  our  hojie  of  finding  it  near.  Descending  from  the  mountain 
we  reached  another  basin,  on  the  flat  lake-bed  of  which  we  found  no  water, 


■h  (J 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— ALMOST  THE  "MISSING  LINK." 


307 


and  encamped  among  the  sage  on  the  bordering  plain,  where  the  snow 
was  still  about  one  foot  deep.  Among  this  the  grass  was  remarkably  green, 
and  to-night  the  animals  fared  tolerably  well. 

December  2%th. — The  snow  being  deep,  I  had  determined,  if  any  more 
horses  were  stolen,  to  follow  the  tracks  of  the  Indians  into  the  mountains, 
and  put  a  temporary  check  to  their  sly  operations ;  but  it  did   not  occur 


a,;,ain. 


Our  road  this  morning  lay  down  a  level  valley,  bordered  by  steep  moun- 
tainous ridges,  rising  very  abruptly  from  the  plain.  Artemisia  was  the 
nrincipal  plant,  mingled  with  Fremontia  and  the  chenopodiaceous  shrubs. 
The  artemisia  was  here  extremely  large,  being  sometimes  a  foot  in  diam- 
eter and  eight  feet  high. 

Riding  quietly  along  over  the  snow,  we  came  suddenly  upon  smokes 
risinij^  among  these  bushes;  and,  galloping  up,  we  found  two  huts  open  at 
the  to[),  and  loosely  built  of  sage,  which  appeared  to  have  been  deserted 
at  the  instant ;  and,  looking  hastily  around,  we  saw  several  Indians  on  the 
crest  of  the  ridge  near  by,  and  several  others  scrambling  up  the  side.  We 
had  come  upon  them  so  suddenly,  that  they  had  been  well-nigh  surprised 
in  their  lodges.  A  sage  fire  was  burning  in  the  middle  ;  a  few  baskets 
made  of  straw  were  lying  about,  with  one  or  two  rabbit  skins  ;  and  there 
was  a  little  grass  scattered  about,  on  which  they  had  been  lying.  "  Ta- 
bibo  ho !  "  they  shouted  from  the  hills  -a  word  which,  in  the  Snake 
lan^ruage,  signifies  white — and  remained  looking  at  us  from  behind  the 
rocks. 

Carson  and  Godey  rode  toward  the  hill,  but  the  men  ran  off  like  deer. 
They  had  been  so  much  pressed,  that  a  woman  with  two  children  had 
dropped  behind  a  sage  bush  near  the  lodge,  and  when  Carson  accidentally 
stumiiled  upon  her,  she  immediately  began  screaming  in  the  extremity  of 
f'':ir,  and  shut  her  eyes  fast,  to  avoid  seeing  him.  She  was  brought  back 
to  the  lodge,  and  we  endeavored  in  vain  to  open  a  communication  with  the 
•.nca.  Hy  dint  of  presents,  and  friendly  demonstrations,  she  was  brought 
to  calmness  ;  and  we  found  that  they  belonged  to  the  Snake  nation,  si)eak- 
in,'  the  laniL;uage  of  that  people. 

lii^ht  or  ten  appeared  to  live  together,  under  the  same  little  shelter  ; 
an  1  they  s(XMned  to  have  no  other  subsistence  tiian  the  roots  or  seeds  they 
mi.;ht  have  stored  up,  and  the  hares  which  live  in  the  sage,  and  which 
tlvy  are  enabled  to  track  through  the  snow,  and  are  v(;ry  skilful  in  killing. 
liicir  skins  afford  them  a  little  scanty  covering.  Herding  together  among 
'Hishes,  and  crouching  almost  naked  over  a  little  sage  fire,  using  their  in- 
stinct only  to  procure  food,  these  may  be  considered,  among  human  beings, 
tlic  nearest  approach  to  the  mere  animal  creation.  We  have  reason  to  be- 
iitve  that  these  had  never  before  seen  the  face  of  a  white  man. 


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MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


The  day  had  been  pleasant,  but  about  two  o'clock  it  bce-aii  to  blow 
and  crossing  a  slight  dividing  ground  we  encamped  on  the  sheltered  side 
of  a  hill  where  there  was  good  bunch  grass,  having  made  a  day's  iournev 
of  twenty-four   miles.     The   night   closed   in,  threatening  snow  ;  but  the 
large  sage  bushes  made  bright  fires. 

Deccvibcr  2gt/i. — The  morning  mild,  and  at  four  o'clock  it  commenced 
snowing.  We  took  our  way  across  a  plain,  thickly  covered  with  snow, 
toward  a  range  of  hills  in  the  southeast,  The  sky  soon  became;  so  dark 
with  snow,  that  little  could  be  seen  of  the  surrounding  country  ;  and  we 
reached  the  summit  of  the  hills  in  a  heavy  snow-storm.  On  die  .side  we 
had  approacled,  this  had  appeared  to  be  only  a  ridge  of  low  hills;  and 
we  were  surprised  to  find  ourselves  on  the  summit  of  a  bed  of  broken 
mountains,  which,  as  far  as  the  weather  would  permit  us  to  see,  declined 
rapidly  to  some  low  country  ahead,  presenting  a  dreary  and  savage  char- 
acter ;  and  for  a  moment  I  looked  around  in  doubt  on  the  wild  and  inhos- 
pitable prospect,  scarcely  knowing  what  road  to  take  which  might  conduct 
us  to  some  place  of  shelter  for  the  night. 

Noticing  among  the  hills  the  head  of  a  grassy  hollow,  I  determined  to 
follow  it,  in  the  hope  that  it  would  conduct  us  to  a  stream.  \Vc  followed 
a  winding  descent  for  several  miles,  the  hollow  gradually  broadening  jntr, 
little  meadows,  and  becoming  the  bed  of  a  stream  as  we  advanced;  an' 
toward  night,  we  were  agreeably  surprised  by  the  appearance  of  a  willow 
grove,  where  we  found  a  sheltered  camp,  with  water  and  excellent  an! 
abundant  grass.  The  grass,  which  was  covered  by  the  snow  on  the  bot- 
tom, was  long  and  green,  and  the  face  of  the  mountain  had  a  more  favor- 
able character  in  its  vegetation,  being  smoother,  and  covered  with  good 
bunch  grass. 

The  snow  was  deep,  and  the  night  very  cold.  A  broad  trail  had  en- 
tered the  valley  from  the  right,  and  a  short  distance  below  die  camp  were 
the  tracks  where  a  considerable  party  of  Indians  had  passed  on  horseback, 
who  had  turned  out  to  the  left,  apparently  with  the  view  of  crossing  the 
mountains  'co  the  eastward.     These  Indians  were  [)robably  Modocs. 

December  T,ot/i. — After  following  the  stream  for  a  few  hours  in  a  south 
easterly  direction  it  entered  a  canon  where  we  could  not  follow ;  but  de- 
termined not  to  leave  the  stream,  we  searched  a  passage  below,  where  we 
could  regain  it,  and  entered  a  regular  narrow  valley.  The  water  had  now 
more  the  appearance  of  a  flowing  creek  ;  several  times  we  passed  groves 
of  willows,  and  we  began  to  feel  ourselves  out  of  all  difficulty.  From  our 
position  it  was  reasonable  to  conclude  that  this  streim  would  find  its  out- 
let in  Mary's  Lake,  and  conduct  us  into  a  better  country. 

We  had  descended  rapidly,  and  here  we  found  very  litde  snow.  On 
both  sides  the  mountains  showed  often  stupendous  and  curious  looking 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— A   GLOOMY  NEW  YEAR'S  EVE. 


309 


rocks,  which  at  several  places  so  narrowed  the  valley,  that  scarcely  a  jass 
was  left  for  the  camp.  It  was  a  singular  place  to  travel  through  -slr.it  up 
in  the  caiJi,  a  sort  of  chasm,  the  little  strip  of  grass  under  our  feet,  the 
rou'^h  walls  of  bare  rock  on  either  hand,  and  the  narrow  strip  of  sky  abo\e. 
The  i^rass  to-night  was  abundant,  and  we  encamped  in  high  spirits. 

December  3U/. — After  an  hour's  ride  this  morning  our  hopes  were 
once  more  destroyed.  The  valley  opened  out,  and  before  us  again  lay 
one  of  the  dry  basins.  After  some  search,  we  discovered  a  high  water 
outlet,  which  brought  us  in  a  few  miles,  and  by  a  descent  of  several  hLin- 
dred  feet,  into  another  long  broad  basin,  in  which  we  found  the  bed  a'l  a 
stream,  and  obtained  sufficient  water  by  cutting  the  ice.  The  grass  on 
the  bottoms  was  salt  antl  unpalatable. 

Here  we  concluded  the  year  1S43,  and  our  new  year's  eve  was  rather 
a  '4k")omy  one.  The  result  of  our  journey  began  to  be  very  uncertain  ;  the 
country  was  singularly  unfavorable  to  travel  ;  thj  grasses  being  frequently 
of  a  very  unwholesome  character,  and  the  hoofs  of  our  animals  were  so 
worn  and  cut  by  the  rocks,  that  many  of  them  were  lame,  and  could 
scarcely  be  got  along. 

.\'\.'  J''^;-'^  Day.  1844. — We  continued  down  the  valley,  between  a 
dry-looking  black  ridge  on  the  left,  and  a  more  snowy  and  high  one  on 
the  right.  Our  road  was  bad,  along  the  bottom  being  broken  by  gullies 
and  impeded  by  sage,  and  sandy  on  the  hills,  where  there  is  not  a  Ijlade 
of  grass,  nor  does  any  appear  on  the  mountains.  The  soil  in  many  places 
consists  of  a  fine  powdery  sand,  covered  with  a  saline  efflorescence  ;  and 
the  general  character  of  the  country  is  desert.  During  the  day  we  directed 
our  coui^sc  toward  a  black  cape,  at  the  foot  of  which  a  column  of  smoke 
indicated  hot  springs. 

%riiH(!yy  2d. — We  were  on  the  road  early,  the  face  of  the  country  hid- 
den by  falling  snow.  We  travelled  along  the  bed  of  the  stream,  in  some 
places  dry,  in  others  covered  with  ice  ;  the  travelling  being  very  bad, 
through  deep  fine  sand,  rendered  tenacious  by  a  mixture  of  clay.  The 
weather  cleared  up  a  little  at  noon,  and  we  reached  the  hot  springs  of 
which  we  had  seen  the  vai)or  the  day  before.  Thttre  was  a  large  field  of 
the  usual  salt  grass  here  peculiar  to  such  jilaces.  The  count. -y  otherwise 
is  a  perfect  barren,  without  a  blade  of  grass,  the  only  plants  being  some 
liwar*"  Fremontias.  We  passed  the  rocky  cape,  a  jagged  broken  point, 
hare  and  torn. 

Ihe  rocks  arc  volcanic,  and  the  hills  here  have  a  burnt  appearance — 
cinders  and  coal  occasionally  appearing  as  at  a  blacksmith's  forge.  We 
crossed  the  large  dry  bed  of  a  muddy  lake  in  a  southeasterly  direction, 
and  encamped  at  night  without  water  and  without  grass,  among  sage 
bushes  covered  with  snow.     The  heavy  road   made  several  mules  give 


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310 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


out  to-day  ;  and  a  horse,  which  had  made  the  journey  from  the  States  suc- 
cessfully thus  far,  was  left  on  the  trail. 

yanuary  T,d. — ^A  fog,  so  dense  that  we  could  not  see  a  hundred  yards 
covered  the  country,  and  the  men  that  were  sent  out  after  the  horses  were 
bewildered  and  lost ;  and  we  were  consequently  detained  at  camo  until  late 
in  the  day. 

Our  situation  had  now  become  a  serious  one.  We  had  reached  and 
run  over  the  position  where,  according  to  the  best  maps  in  my  possession 
we  should  have  found  Mary's  Lake,  or  River.  We  were  evidendy  on  the- 
verge  of  the  desert  which  had  been  reported  to  us ;  and  the  appearance 
of  the  country  was  so  forbidding,  that  I  was  afraid  to  enter  it,  and  deter- 
mined to  bear  away  to  the  southward,  keeping  close  along  the  mountains, 
in  the  full  expectation  of  reaching  the  Buenaventura  River. 

This  morning  I  put  every  man  in  the  camp  on  foot — myself,  of  course, 
among  the  rest --and  in  this  manner  lightened,  by  distribution,  the  loads  of 
the  animals.  We  travelled  seven  or  eight  miles  along  tl  :  ridge  hordering 
the  valley,  and  encamped  where  there  were  a  few  bunches  of  grass  on  the 
bed  of  a  hill  torrent,  without  water.  There  were  some  large  artemisias; 
but  the  principal  plants  are  chenopodiaceous  shrubs.  The  rock  composing 
the  mountains  is  here  changed  suddenly  into  white  granite.  The  fot; 
showed  the  tops  of  the  hills  at  sunset,  and  stars  enough  for  observations 
in  the  early  evening,  and  then  closed  over  us  as  before.  Latitude  by  ob- 
servation, 40"  48'  15'. 

yainiary  ^th. — The  fog  to-day  was  still  more  dense,  and  the  people 
again  were  bewildered.  We  travelled  a  few  miles  around  the  western 
point  of  the  ridge,  and  encamped  where  there  were  a  few  tufts  of  grass, 
but  no  water.  Our  animals  n(jw  were  in  a  very  alarming  state,  and  there 
was  increased  an.xiety  in  the  camp. 


January  5///.  —Same  dense  fog  continued,  and  one  of  the  mules  d 


icu 


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in  camp  this  morning.  I  have  had  occasion  to  remark  in  such  conditions 
as  these,  that  animals  which  are  about  to  die  leave  the  baml,  and  coming 
into  the  camp,  lie  clown  al)oiit  the  fires.  We  moved  to  a  place  where 
there  was  a  little  better  grass,  about  two  miles  distant.  Tapliii.  one  of 
our  best  men,  who  had  gone  out  on  a  scouting  excursion,  ascendtd  a 
mountain  near  by,  and  to  his  great  surprise  emerged  into  a  region  of  bright 
■  sunshine,  in  w'hich  the  upper  parts  of  the  mountain  were  glowing,  while 
below  all  was  obscured  in  the  darkest  fog. 

January  6f/i.  The  fog  continued  the  same,  and  with  Mr.  Prcuss  and 
Carson,  I  ascended  the  mountain  to  sketch  the  leading  features  ot  the 
country,  as  some  indication  of  our  future  route,  while  Mr.  FItzpatrick  ex- 
[)lored  the  country  below.  In  a  very  short  distance  we  had  ascended 
above  the  mist,  but  the  view  obtained  was  not  very  gratifying.     1  he  lug 


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the  joii 

huiulre 

feet  in 

regular 

deep ; 

we  had 

on  the 

peratiir 

of  the  c 

with  a  I 

the  ceni 

to;ii,  th( 

are  sev( 

but  thej 

co:r,mo! 

and  a  m 

In  tl 

chisivel) 

growth, 

lohl 

Our 

from  tJK 

had  lost, 

these,  iii 

til  we  si 

ahead,  b 

advance, 

^vas  kno 


trf     ;il 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— EXTRA  ORDINA  R  V  HO  T  SPRINGS.         3 1 1 

had  partially  cleared  off  from  below  when  we  reached  the  summit ;  and  in 
the  southwest  corner  of  a  basin  communicating  with  that  in  which  we  had 
encamped,  we  saw  a  lofty  column  of  smoke,  sixteen  miles  distant,  indicat- 
in'^  the  presence  of  hot  springs.  There,  also,  appeared  to  be  the  outlet  of 
those  tlraining  channels  of  the  country  ;  and  as  such  places  afforded  always 
more  or  less  grass,  I  determined  to  steer  in  that  direction.  The  ridge  we 
had  ascended,  appeared  to  be  composed  of  fragments  of  white  granite. 
We  saw  here  traces  of  sheep  and  antelope. 

Entering  the  neighboring  valley,  and  crossing  the  bed  of  another  lake, 
after  a  hard  day's  travel  over  ground  of  yielding  mud  and  sand,  we  reached 
tiie  springs,  where  we  found  an  abundance  of  grass,  which,  though  only 
tolerably  good,  made  this  place,  with  reference  to  the  past,  a  refreshing  and 
aijreeable  spot. 

This  is  the  most  extraordinary  locality  of  hot  springs  we  had  met  during 
the  journey.  The  basin  of  the  largest  one  has  a  circumference  of  several 
hundred  feet ;  but  there  is  at  one  extremity  a  circular  space  of  about  fifteen 
feet  in  diameter,  entirely  occupied  by  the  boiling  water.  It  boils  up  at  ir- 
regular intervals,  and  with  much  noise.  The  water  is  clear,  and  the  spring 
deep;  a  pole  about  sixteen  feet  long  was  easily  immersed  in  the  centre,  but 
we  had  no  means  of  forming  a  good  idea  of  the  depth.  It  was  surrounded 
on  the  margin  with  a  border  of  i^rcen  grass,  and  near  the  shore  th(i  tem- 
perature of  the  water  was  206".  We  had  no  means  of  ascertaining  that 
of  the  centre,  where  the  heat  was  greatest;  but,  by  dispersing  the  water 
with  a  pole,  the  temperature  at  the  margin  was  increased  to  2o8\  and  in 
the  centre  it  was  doubtless  higher.  By  driving  the  pole  toward  the  bot- 
ti):ii,  the  water  w^as  made  to  boil  up  with  increased  force  and  noise.  There 
are  several  other  interesting  places  where  water  and  smoke  or  gas  escape, 
out  they  would  require  a  long  description.  The  water  is  impregnated  with 
common  salt,  but  not  so  much  so  as  to  render  it  unfit  for  general  cooking  ; 
aula  mixture  of  snow  made  it  pleasant  to  drink. 

In  the  immediate  neighborhood  the  valley  bottom  is  covered  almost  ex- 
clusively with  chenopodiaceous  shrubs,  of  greater  luxuriance,  and  larger 
growth,  than  we  have  seen  them  in  any  preceding  part  of  the  journey. 

I  nlitained  this  evening  some  astronomical  observations. 

Our  situation  now  required  caution.  Including  those  which  gave  out 
Irom  the  injured  condition  of  their  feet,  and  those  stolen  by  Indians,  we 
wd  lost,  since  leaving  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia,  fifteen  animals  ;  and  of 
i'lese,  nine  had  been  left  in  the  last  few  days.  I  therefore  determined,  un- 
til we  should  reach  a  country  of  water  and  vegetation,  to  feel  our  way 
ahead,  by  having  the  line  of  route  explored  some  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  in 
iJvance,  and  only  to  leave  a  present  encampment  when  the  succeeding  one 
\vas  known. 


mmm 


J     ^ 


"WJfr   t  V; 


WWWw 


I  f 


V  1il- 


J  ■  I 


)■■  i 


!'   ! 


»;'    *i 


i:'r 


I'-rr 


h  if     ; 

'      ''     i     ■! 

t  ■,      Mi 

ii'i 

it . 

'             ■     ! 

■M 

UJji 

31a 


^/Ts  1/0/y?.S"  O/-  AfV  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRAmOiVT. 


Taking  with  me  Godey  and  Carson,  I  made  to-day  athorouirh  explora- 
tion of  the  neighboring  valleys,  and  found  in  a  ravine  in  the  borderiivr 
mountains  a  good  camping-place,  where  was  water  in  springs,  and  a  sutfi. 
cient  quantity  of  grass  for  a  night.  Overshading  the  springs  were  some 
trees  of  the  sweet  cotton-wood,  which,  after  a  long  interval  of  absence  wc 
saw  again  with  pleasure,  regarding  them  as  harbingers  of  a  better  countn 
To  us  they  were  eloquent  of  green  prairies  and  buffalo. 

We  found  here  a  broad  and  plainly  marked  trail,  on  which  there  were 
tracks  of  horses,  and  we  appeared  to  have  regained  one  of  the  thorou-'h- 
fares  which  pass  by  the  watering-places  of  the  country.  On  the  western 
mountains  of  the  valley,  with  which  this  of  the  boiling  spring  communicates, 
we  remarked  scattered  cedars — probably  an  indication  that  we  were  on 
the  borders  of  the  timbered  region  extending  to  the  Pacific.  We  reached 
the  camp  at  sunset,  after  a  day's  ride  of  about  forty  miles.  The  horses  we 
rode  were  in  good  order,  being  of  some  that  were  kept  for  emergencies, 
and  rarely  used. 

Mr.  Preuss  had  ascended  one  of  the  mountains,  and  occupied  the  dav 
in  sketching  the  country ;  and  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  had  found,  a  few  miles  dis- 
tant, a  hollow  of  excellent  grass  and  pure  water,  to  which  the  animals  were 
dri\en,  as  I  remained  another  day  to  give  them  an  opportunity  to  recruit 
their  strength.  Indians  appear  to  be  everywhere  prowling  about  like  wild 
ani-'n^-lr.,  and  there  is  a  fresh  trail  across  the  snow  in  the  valley  near. 

Latitude  of  the  boiling  springs,  40°  39'  46". 

On  the  9th  we  crossed  over  to  the  cotton-wood  camp.  Amonp^  the 
shrubs  on  the  hills  were  a  few  bushes  of  ephedra  occidentalis,  which  we 
afterward  found  frequently  along  our  road,  and,  as  usual,  the  lowlands  were 
occupied  with  artemisia.  While  the  party  proceeded  to  this  place,  Carson 
and  myself  reconnoitered  the  road  in  advance,  and  found  another  good  en- 
campment for  the  following  day. 

yanuary  \ot/i. — We  continued  our  reconnoissance  ahead,  pursuing' a 
south  direction  in  the  basin  along  the  ridge ;  the  camp  following  slowly 
after.  On  a  large  trail  there  is  never  any  doubt  of  finding  suitable  places 
for  encampments.  We  reached  the  end  of  the  basin,  where  we  found,  in 
a  hollow  of  the  mountain  which  enclosed  it,  an  abundance  of  good  bunch 
grass.  Leaving  a  signal  for  the  party  to  encamp,  we  continued  our  way  uj) 
the  hollow,  intending  to  sef^  what  lay  beyond  the  mountain.  The  hollow 
was  several  miles  long,  forming  a  good  pass,  the  snow  deepening  to  about 
a  foot  as  we  neared  the  summit.  Beyond,  a  defile  between  the  mountains 
descended  rapidly  about  two  thousand  feet;  and,  filling  up  all  the  lower 
space,  was  a  sheet  of  green  water,  some  twenty  miles  broad.  It  broke 
upon  our  eyes  like  the  ocean. 

The  neighboring  peaks  rose  high  above  us,  and  we  ascended  one  ot 


explora- 
)orderinjj 
id  a  suffi. 
ere  some 
sence,  wt 
r  country. 


.■ere 


here  w 
thorough- 
e  western 
Tiunicates, 
2  were  on 
'e  reaclieil 
horses  we 
lergencics, 

:d  the  clay 
miles  dis- 

imals  were 
to  recruit 

jt  like  wild 

lear. 

\mong  the 
which  we 

an  Js  were 
Carson 


ce 


good  en- 


piirsiiinj;  a 
ino-  slowly 
I  Die  places 
found,  in 
)od  buncli 
ur  way  lip 
he  hollow 
g  to  about 
mountains 
the  lower 
It  broke 


ed  one  of 


■i:  !'t 


U\ 


iTTWi 


ffl 


p  Vvti 


:l?'t 


if     ::lr  J 


;|-i' 


SECOND   KXPEDITIOX—AN  irNKNOWX  LAKE. 


313 


thcin  to  obtain  a  better  view.  The  waves  were  curling  in  the  breeze,  and 
their  dark-;^n-cc-n  color  showed  it  to  be  a  body  of  deep  water.  I'^or  a  long 
time  wc  sat  (.'njoying  the  view,  for  we  had  become  fatigued  with  mountains, 
and  the  free  expanse  of  moving  waves  was  ^'ery  grateful.  It  was  set  like 
;i  fcm  in  the  mountains,  which,  from  our  position,  seemed  to  enclose  ii 
almost  entirely.  i\t  the  western  end  it  communicated  with  the  line  of 
kisiiis  we  had  left  a  few  days  since  ;  and  on  the  opposite  side  it  swept  a 
lil'fe  of  snowy  mountains,  the  foot  of  the  great  Sierra.  Its  position  at  first 
iiidined  us  to  believe  it  Mary's  Lake,  but  the  rugged  mountains  were  so  en- 
liixlv  discordant  with  descriptions  of  its  low  rushy  shores  and  open  country, 
tiuit  we  concluded  it  some  unknown  body  of  water,  which  it  afterward 
proved  to  be. 

On  our  road  down,  the  next  day,  we  saw  herds  of  mountain  sheep,  and 
(;ncam[)(.d  on  a  little  stream  at  the  mouth  of  thu  defile,  about  a  mile  from 
tile  margin  of  the  water,  to  which  we  hurried  down  immediately.  The 
water  is  so  slightly  salt,  that,  at  first,  we  thought  it  fresh,  and  would  be 
pleasant  to  drink  wh>jn  no  other  could  be  had.  The  shore  was  rocky— a 
luiidsoine  beach,  which  reminded  us  of  the  sea.  On  some  large  granite 
boulders  that  were  scattered  about  the  shore,  I  remarked  a  coating  of  a 
calcareous  substance,  in  some  places  a  few  inches,  and  in  others  a  foot  in 
liiickness.  Near  our  crimp,  1  ;ie  hills,  which  were  of  primitive  rock,  were 
also  covered  with  this  sub.',Lance,  which  was  in  too  great  quantity  on  the 
mountains  along  the  shore  of  the  lake  to  have  been  deposited  by  water, 
and  has  the  appearance  of  having  been  spread  over  the  rocks  in  mass.* 

Where  we  had  halted,  appeared  to  be  a  favorite  camping-place  for  In- 
dians. 

January  iT,ih. — We  followed  again  a  broad  Indian  trail  along  the  shore 
of  the  lake  to  the  southward.  For  a  short  space  we  had  room  enough  in 
the  bottom  ;  but  after  travelling  a  short  distance,  the  water  swept  the  foot 
of  precipitous  mountains,  the  peaks  of  which  are  about  three  thousand  feet 
above  the  lake.  The  trail  wound  along  the  base  of  these  precipices,  against 
whidithe  water  d'  hrd  below,  by  a  way  nearly  impracticable  for  the  how- 
i:ar.    T)uri    ^  a  gi>  .iL>,;r  part  of  the  morning  the  lake  was  nearly  hid  by  a 

i  attached  to  a  s       imen  of  this  rock  was  lost  ;  but  I  append  an  ana'ysis  of  that  which, 
'■  O'l  '  ju''  "■  to  be  the  specimen. 

>-...iiunatc         inc  77-31 

Carlnmati.     ;  magnesia 5,25 

Oxide  of  iron 1.60 

Alumina 1.05 

Silica 8.5s 

Organic  matter,  water,  and  loss 6.24 

ICX).00 


I'll 


'i'S^'f  I'll 


i^  Piii! 


1       'if 


!  F 


iiii'''Mi 


'It  '   ; 


iil 


i: 


J; 


3«4 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRJEMONT. 


snow-storm,  and  the  waves  broke  on  the  narrow  beach  in  a  lonir  line  of 
foaming  surf,  five  or  six  feet  high. 

The  day  was  unpleasantly  cold,  the  wind  driving  the  snow  sharp  against 
our  faces  ;  and,  having  advanced  only  abou.  twelve  miles,  we  c icair.jed 
in  a  bottom  formed  by  a  ravine,  covered  with  good  grass,  which  was  fresh 
and  green. 

We  did  not  get  the  howitzer  into  camp,  but  were  obliged  to  leave  it  on 
the  rocks  until  morning.  We  sa  \\  several  flocks  of  sheep,  but  did  not  suc- 
ceed in  killing  any.  Ducks  were  riding  on  the  waves,  and  several  larsje 
fish  were  seen.  The  mountain-sides  were  crusted  with  the  calcareous 
cement  previously  mentioned. 

There  were  cb.enopodiaceous  and  other  shrubs  along  the  beach ;  and, 
at  the  foot  of  tlie  rocks,  an  abundance  oi  Ephedra  occidentalis,  whose  dark- 
g;een  color  makes  them  evergreens  among  the  shrubby  growth  of  thi; 
lake.  Toward  evening  the  snow  began  to  fall  heavily,  and  the  country  had 
a  wintry  appearance. 

The  next  morning  the  snow  was  rapidly  melting  under  a  warm  sun. 
Part  of  the  morning  was  occupied  in  bringing  up  the  gun ;  and,  making' 
onl)-  nine  miles,  we  encamped  on  the  shore,  opposite  a  very  remarkable 
rock  in  the  lake,  which  had  attracted  our  attention  for  many  miles.  It  rose, 
according  to  our  estimate,  six  hundred  feet  above  the  water  ;  and,  from  the 
point  we  viewed  it,  presented  a  pretty  e.\act  outline  of  the  great  pyramid 
of  Cheops. 

The  accompanying  view  presents  it  as  we  saw  it.  Like  other  rocks 
along  the  shore,  it  seemed  to  be  incrusted  with  calcareous  cement.  This 
striking  feature  suggested  a  name  for  the  lake  ;  anel  I  called  ii  I'vramid 
Lake  ;  and  though  it  may  be  deemed  by  some  a  fanciful  resemblance,  I 
CLin  undertake  to  say  that  the  future  traveller  will  find  a  much  more  striking; 
resemblance  between  this  rock  and  the  pyramids  of  Egypt,  than  there  is 
between  them  and  the  objeci;  from  which  they  take  their  name. 

The  elevation  of  this  lake  above  the  sea  is  foin*  thousand  eight  hundred 
and  ninety  feet,  being  nearly  seven  hundred  feet  higher  than  the  Great  .Salt 
Lake,  from  which  it  lies  nearly  west,  and  dis*^^^iit  about  eiL^ht  degrees  ot 
longitude.  The  position  and  elevation  of  this  lake  make  it  an  ()l)ject  ol  ljco- 
gra[)hical  interest.  It  is  thi;  nearest  lake  to  the  western  rim,  as  the  Great 
Salt  Lake  is  to  the  eastern  rim,  of  the  Great  Basin  which  lies  between  the 
base  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  and  the  Sierra  Nevada ;  and  the  extent  and 
charactei'  of  wliich,  its  whole  cir^  inference  and  contents,  it  is  so  desirable 
to  know. 

The  last  of  the  catth;  which  had  been  driven  from  the  Dalles  was  killi-d 
here  for  food,  and  was  still  in  good  condition. 

January  i  '^tli.  -\  few  poor-looking  Indians  made  their  appearance  thii 


vhich  was  fresh 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— PYKAAf ID   LAKE. 


3'5 


iiiorning,  and  we  succeeded  in  getting  one  into  the  camp.  He  was  naked, 
with  the  exception  of  a  tunic  of  hare-skins.  He  told  us  that  there  was  a 
river  at  the  end  of  the  lake,  but  that  he  lived  in  the  rocks  near  by.  From 
the  few  words  our  people  could  understand,  he  spoke  a  dialect  of  the  Snake 
iaivniaw'e ;  but  we  were  not  able  to  understand  enough  to  know  whether 
ihe  river  ran  in  or  out,  or  what  wan  ics  course  ;  consequently,  there  still 
remained  a  chance  that  this  might  be  Mary's  Lakc- 

Groves  of  large  cotton-wood,  which  we  could  see  at  the  mouth  of  the 
river,  iiulicated  that  it  was  a  stream  of  considerable  size  ;  and,  at  all  events, 
we  had  the  pleasure  to  know  that  now  we  were  in  a  country  where  human 
beiii'TS  could  live.  Accompanied  by  the  Indian,  we  resumed  our  road,  pass- 
intr  1)11  the  way  several  caves  in  the  rock  where  there  were  baskets  and 
seeds ;  but  tlie  people  had  disappeared.  We  saw  also  horse-tracks  along 
die  shore. 

Karly  in  the  afternoon,  when  we  were  approaching  the  groves  at  the 
mouth  of  the  river,  three  or  four  Indians  met  us  on  the  trail.  We  had  an 
explaiiatorv  conversation  in  signs,  and  then  moved  on  together  toward  the 
villai-^e,  which  the  chief  said  was  encamped  on  the  bottom. 

Reaching  the  groves,  we  found  the  inlci  of  a  large  fresh  water  stream, 
and  all  at  once  were  satisfied  that  it  was  neither  Mary's  River,  nor  the 
w.itcrs  of  the  Sacramento,  but  that  we  had  discovered  a  large  interior  lake, 
which  the  Indians  informed  us  had  no  outlet.  It  is  about  thirty-five  miles 
long;  and  by  the  mark  of  the  water-line  along  the  shores,  the  spring  level 
is  about  twelve  feet  above  its  present  waters.  The  chief  commenced  speak- 
ing in  a  loud  voice  as  we  approached  ;  and  parties  of  Indians  armed  with 
bows  and  arrows  issued  from  the  thickets. 

We  selected  a  strong  place  for  our  encampment,  a  grassy  bottom,  nearly 

enclosed  by  the  river,  and  furnished  with  abundant  firew  ood.      The  village, 

a  collection  of  straw  huts,  was  a  few  hundred  yards  higher  up.     An  Indian 

lirought  in  a  large  fish  to  trade,  which  we  had  t)ie  ine.xpressible  satisfaction 

to  find  was  a  salmon-trout ;   we  gathered  round  him  eagerly.     The  Indians 

were  aimiscil  with  our  delight,  and  immediately  brought  in  numbers  ;  so 

that  the  camp  was  soon  stocked.     Their  flavor  was  excellent    -superior,  in 

iJct,  to  that  of  any  fish  I  have  ever  known.     They  were  of  extraordinary 

sire— about   as    large    as    the    Columbia    River    salmon — generally  from 

two  to  four  feet   in  length.     From  the  information  of  Mr.  Walker,  who 

passed  among  some  lakes  lying  more  to  the  eastward,  this  fish  is  common 

to  the  streams  of  the  inland  lakes.      He  subsctiuently  informed  me  that  he 

ii'iJ  obtained  them  wc.'ighing  six  pounds  when  cleaned  and  the  head  taken 

"tt;  which  corresponds  very  well  with  the  size  of  those  obtained  at  this 

I'lace.     They  doubtless  formed  the  subsistence  of  these  people,  who  hold 

"11^  lishcry  in  exclusive  possession. 


■\[\ 


a*;!)  i.v      if     ;  I  I    i|rj  :'f 


I 


i!       ' 


\h' 


I        i! 


|:|1-'      !i! 


:•    ili 


316 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRFMOXT. 


I  remarked  that  one  of  them  gave  a  fish  to  the  Indian  we  had  first  seen 
which  he  carried  off" to  his  family.  To  them  it  was  probably  a  feast;  beinv 
of  the  Digger  tribe,  and  having  no  share  in  the  fishery,  living  generally  on 
seeds  and  roots.  Although  this  was  a  time  of  the  year  when  the  fish  have 
not  yet  become  fat,  they  were  excellent,  and  we  could  only  iina"ini;  what 
they  are  at  the  proper  season.  These  Indians  were  very  fat,  and  appeared 
to  live  an  easy  and  happy  life.  They  crowded  into  the  camp  more  than 
was  consistent  with  our  safety,  retaining  always  theii-  arms ;  and,  as  thev 
made  some  unsatisfactory  demonstrations,  they  were  given  to  understaml 
that  the\-  would  not  be  permitted  to  come  armed  into  the  camp  ;  and  stroiv' 
guards  were  kept  with  the  hoi-ses.  Strict  vigilance  was  maintaiiie'l  anion' 
the  people,  and  one  third  at  a  time  wer<:;  kept  on  guard  during  tlic  ni"hl. 
There  is  n.)  reason  to  doubt  that  these  dispositions,  uniformly  preserveil, 
conducted  our  party  securely  through  Indians  famed  for  treachery. 

In  the  meantime,  such  a  salmon-trout  feast  as  is  seldom  seen  was  eoin- 
on  in  ou"  camp  ;  and  every  variety  of  manner  in  which  fish  could  be  pre 
pared  -boiled,  fried,  and  roasted  in  the  ashes — was  put  into  lequisition ; 
and  every  few  minutes  an  Indian  would  be  seen  running  off  to  spear  a 
fresh  one. 

\\'hether  these  Indians  had  seen  whites  before,  we  could  not  be  certain : 
but  they  were  evidently  in  communication  with  others  who  had,  as  one  of 
them  had  some  brass  buttons,  and  we  noticed  several  other  articles  of  civil- 
ized manufacture.  We  could  obtain  from  them  but  little  information  n.- 
specting  the  country.  They  made  on  the  ground  a  drawing  of  the  river, 
which  they  represented  as  issuing  from  another  lake  in  the  mountains  three 
or  four  ilays  distant,  in  a  direction  a  little  west  of  south  ;  beyond  which, 
they  drew  a  mountain  ;  and  further  still,  two  rivers  ;  on  one  of  which  they 
told  us  that  people  like  ourselves  travelled.  Whether  they  alluded  to  the 
settlements  on  the  Sacramento,  or  to  a  party  from  the  United  States  which 
had  crossed  the  Sierra  about  three  df^grees  to  the  southward,  a  few  year 
before,  I  am  unable  to  det(,'rmin(,'. 

I  tried  unsuccessfully  to  prevail  on  some  of  them  to  guiile  us  for  a  tew 
days  on  the  road,  but  they  only  looked  at  each  other  and  laughed. 

The  latitude  of  our  encampment,  which  may  be  considered  the  mouth 
of  the  inlet,  is  39"  51'  13"  by  our  observations. 

January  \6tk. — This  morning  we  continued  our  journey  along  this 
beautiful  stream,  which  we  natiu-ally  called  the  Salmon  Trout  River. 
Large  trails  led  up  on  either  side ;  the  stream  was  handsomely  timbered 
with  large  cotton-woods  ;  and  the  waters  were  very  clear  and  pure.  We 
were  travelling  along  the  mountains  of  the  great  Sierra,  which  rose  nn 
our  right,  covered  with  snow  ;  but  below,  the  temperature  was  mild  and 
pleasant.     We  saw  a  number  of  dams  which  the  Indians  had  constructed 


!  1, 

■   1    1  * 

i 

i;:.  r  1 

'i  ['■  ■■''  .i'; 

SECOND  EXPEDIi:ON~INDIAN  SIGNALS. 


317 


to  catch  fish.  Aft-er  having  made  about  eighteen  miles,  we  encamped 
under  some  large  co'iton-woods  on  the  river  bottom,  where  there  was  tol- 
erably good  grass. 

January  lyih. — ^'J'his  morning  we  left  the  river,  which  here  issues  from 
the  mountains  on  the  west.  With  every  stream  I  now  expected  to  see  the 
(freat  Buenaventura  ;  and  Carson  hurried  eagerly  to  search,  on  everyone 
we  reached,  for  beaver  cuttings,  which  he  always  maintained  we  should 
tiiul  only  on  waters  that  ran  •■'^  the  Pacific  ;  and  the  absence  of  such  signs 
was  to  him  a  sure  indication  inat  the  water  had  no  outlet  from  the  great 

basin. 

We  followed  the  Indian  trail  through  a  tolerably  level  country,  with 
small  sao'e  bushes,  which  brought  us,  after  twenty  miles  journey,  to  another 
lan^e  stream  timbered  with  cotton-wood,  and  flowing  also  out  of  the  moun- 
tains, but  ruiuiing  more  directly  to  the  eastward. 

On  the  way  we  surprised  a  family  of  Indians  in  the  hills;  but  the  man 
ran  up  the  mountain  with  rapidity  ;  and  the  woman  was  so  terrified,  and 
kept  up  such  a  continued  screaming,  that  we  could  do  nothing  with  her, 
and  were  obliged  to  let  her  go. 

Jaauary  i8i'/i. — There  were  Indian  lodges  and  fish-damson  the  stream. 
There  were  no  beaver  cuttings  on  the  river ;  but  below,  it  turned  round 
to  the  right ;  and  hoping  that  it  would  prove  a  branch  of  the  Buenaventura, 
we  followed  it  down  for  about  three  hours,  and  encamped. 

I  rode  out  with  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  and  Carson  to  reconnoitre  the  country, 
which  had  evidently  been  alarmed  by  the  news  of  our  appearance.  This 
struain  joined  with  the  open  valley  of  another  to  the  eastward  ;  but  which 
way  the  main  water  ran,  it  was  impossible  to  tell.  Columns  of  smoke 
rose  over  the  country  at  scattered  intervals — signals  by  which  the  Indians 
here,  as  elsewhere,  communicate  to  each  other  that  enemies  are  in  the 
country.  It  is  a  signal  of  ancient  and  very  universal  application  among 
harbarians. 

kxainining  into  the  condition  of  the  animals  when  I  returned  into  the 
cam;i,  I  found  their  feet  so  much  cut  up  by  the  rocks,  and  so  many  of  them 
lame,  that  it  was  evidently  impossible  that  they  could  cross  the  country  to 
the  Rocky  IMountains.  Every  piece  of  iron  that  could  be  used  for  the  pur- 
pose had  been  converted  into  n.uls,  and  we  could  make  no  further  use  of 
ihe shoes  v.e  had  remauiing.  I  therefore  determinetl  to  abandon  my  eastern 
course,  and  to  cross  the  Sierra  Nevada  into  the  Valley  v/ the  Sacramento, 
wherever  a  practical  pass  couUl  be  found.  My  decision  was  heard  with 
joy  by  tilt:  people,  and  diffused  new  life  throughout  the  camp. 

Latitude  by  observation  39"  24'  16'. 

January  \c)th. — A  great  number  of  smokes  are  still  visible  this  niorn- 
in;^',  attesting  at  once  the  alarm  w  Inch  our  appearance  had  spread  among 


)  I 


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3«8 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


it,:!  :i: 


k  I 


(:■ 


1  'iPv 


these  people,  and  their  ignorance  of  us.  If  they  knew  the  whites,  thev 
would  understand  that  their  only  object  in  coming  among  them  was  to 
trade,  which  required  oeace  and  friendship ;  but  they  have  nothirifr  to 
trade — consequently  nothing  to  attract  the  white  man:  hence  their  ftar 
and  flight. 

At  daybreak  we  had  a  heavy  snow  ;  but  sat  out,  and,  returning  up  the 
stream,  went  out  of  our  way  in  a  circuit  over  a  little  mountain,  and  en- 
camped on  the  same  stream  a  few  miles  above,  in  latitude  39°  19'  21"  bv 
observation. 

Jannayy  20th. — To-day  we  continued  up  the  stream,  and  encamped 
on  it  close  to  the  mountains.  The  freshly-fallen  snow  was  covered  with 
the  tracks  of  Indians,  who  had  descended  from  the  upper  waters,  probably 
calleel  down  by  the  smokes  in  the  plain. 

We  ascended  a  peak  of  the  range,  which  commanded  a  view  of  the 
stream  behind  the  first  ridge,  where  it  was  winding  its  course  throui^h  a 
somewhat  open  valley,  and  I  sometimes  regret  that  I  did  not  make  the 
trial  to  cross  here  ;  but  while  we  had  fair  weather  below,  the  mountaiiir. 
were  darkened  with  falling  snow,  and,  feeling  unwilling  to  encounter  them, 
we  turned  away  again  to  the  southward.  In  that  direction  we  travelled 
the  ne.xt  day  over  a  tolerably  level  country,  having  always  the  hig-ji  moun- 
tains on  the  west.  There  was  but  little  snow  or  rock  on  the  ground  ;  and, 
after  having  travelled  twenty-four  miles,  we  encamped  again  on  another 
large  stream,  running  off  to  the  northward  and  eastward,  to  meet  that 
we  had  left.  It  ran  through  broad  bottoms  having  a  line  meadow-land 
appea-ance. 

Latitude  39"  01'  53". 

yannary  22d. — We  travelled  up  the  stream  for  about  fourteen  miles  to 
the  foot  of  the  mountains,  from  which  one  branch  issued  in  the  southwest, 
the  other  flowing  from  south-southeast  along  their  base.  Leaving  the 
camp  below,  we  ascended  the  range  through  which  the  first  stream  passed, 
in  a  cafion  ;  on  the  western  side  was  a  circular  valley,  about  fifteen  miles 
long,  through  which  the  stream  wound  its  way,  issuing  from  a  gorge  in 
the  main  mountain,  which  rose  abruptly  beyond. 

The  valley  looked  yellow  with  faded  grass  ;  and  the  trail  we  luul  lol- 
lowed  was  visible,  making  towartl  the  gorge,  and  this  was  evidently  a  pass; 
but  again,  while  all  was  bright  sunshine  on  the  ridge,  and  on  the  valley 
where  we  were  the  snow  was  falling  heavily  in  the  moimtains.  I  deter- 
mined to  go  still  to  the  southward,  and  encamped  on  the  stream  near  the 
forks  ;  the  animals  being  fatigued,  and  the  grass  tolerably  good. 

The  rock  of  the  ridge  we  had  ascended  is  a  compact  lava,  assuming;  '. 
granitic  appearance  and  structure,  and  containing,  in  some  places,  smal 
nodules  of  obsidian.     So  far  as  composition  and  aspect  are  concerned,  die 


. 


SECOND   EXPEDITION— THE  NUT  PINE. 


319 


rock  in  other  parts  of  the  ridge  appears  to  be  granite  ;  but  it  is  probable 
that  this  is  only  a  compact  form  of  lava  of  recent  origin. 

By  observation,  the  elevation  of  the  encampment  was  five  thousand  and 
twenty  feet ;  and  the  latitude  38"  49'  54". 

January  i^d. — We  moved  along  the  course  of  the  other  branch  to- 
ward the  southeast,  the  country  affording  a  fine  road  ;  and,  passing  some 
slicrht  dividing  grounds,  descended  toward  the  valley  of  another  stream. 
There  was  a  somewhat  rough-looking  mountain  ahead,  which  it  appeared 
to  issue  from,  or  to  enter — we  could  not  tell  which  ;  and  as  the  course  of 
the  valley  and  the  inclination  of  the  ground  had  a  favorable  direction,  we 
were  sanguine  to  find  here  a  branch  of  the  Buenaventura  ;  but  were  again 
disappointed,  finding  it  an  inland  water,  on  which  we  encamped  after  a 
day's  journey  of  twenty-four  miles. 

It  was  evident  that,  from  the  time  we  descended  into  the  plain  at  Sum- 
mer Lake,  we  had  been  flanking  the  great  range  of  mountains  which  di- 
vided the  Great  Basin  from  the  waters  of  the  Pacific  ;  and  that  the  con- 
tinued succession,  and  almost  connection,  of  lakes  and  rivers  which  we 
encountered,  were  the  drainir.gs  of  that  range.  Its  rains,  springs,  and 
snows,  would  sufficiently  account  fur  these  lakes  and  streams,  numerous 
;is  they  were. 

January  2\th. — A  man  was  discovered  running  toward  the  camp  as 
we  were  about  to  start  this  morning,  who  proved  to  be  an  Indian  of  rather 
advanced  age — a  sort  of  forlorn  hope,  v  ho  seemed  to  have  been  worked 
up  into  the  resolution  of  visiting  the  strangers  who  were  passing  through 
the  country.  He  seized  the  hand  of  the  first  man  he  met  as  he  came  up, 
out  of  breath,  and  held  on  as  if  to  assure  himself  of  protection.  He  brought 
with  him  in  a  little  skin  bag  a  few  pounds  of  the  seeds  of  a  pine-tree,  which 
to-day  we  saw  for  the  first  time,  and  which  Dr.  Torrey  has  described  as  a 
new  species,  under  the  name  oi  pinus  monopltyllus ;  in  popular  language, 
it  mijjht  be  called  \\\^  nut  pine.  We  purchased  them  all  from  him.  The 
nut  is  oily,  of  very  agreeable  flavor^^and  must  be  very  nutritious,  as  it  con- 
sdtutes  the  principal  subsistence  of  the  tribes  among  which  we  were  now 
travelling,  I'y  a  present  of  scarlet  cloth,  and  other  striking  articles,  we 
prevailed  upon  this  man  to  be  oui  guide  for  two  days' journey.  As  clearly 
as  possible;  by  signs,  we  made  him  understand  our  object ;  and  he  engaged 
to  conduct  us  in  sight  of  a  good  [)ass  which  he  knew. 

Here  we  ceased  to  hear  the  Shoshonee  language  ;  that  of  this  man  be- 
ing perfecdy  unintelligible.  Several  Indians,  who  had  been  waiting  to  see 
what  reception  he  would  meet  with,  now  came  into  camp  ;  and,  accom- 
panied by  ihe  new-comers,  we  resumed  our  journey. 

The  road  led  us  up  the  creek,  which  here  becomes  a  rather  rapid  moun- 
tain stream  fifty  feet  wide,  between  dark-looking  hills  without  snow  ;  but 


«:iif1|.-f!ff 


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320 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LrFE—JOTTlV  CHARLES  FRtlMONT. 


immediately  beyond  them  rose  snowy  mountains  on  either  side,  timbered 
principally  with  the  nut  pine.  On  the  lower  grounds,  the  general  height 
of  this  tree  is  twelve  to  twenty  feet,  and  eight  inches  the  greatest  diame- 
ter ;  it  is  rather  branching,  and  has  a  peculiar  and  singular  but  pleasant 
odor.  We  followed  the  river  for  only  a  short  distance  along  a  rocky  trail, 
and  crossed  it  at  a  dam  which  the  Indians  made  us  comprehend  had  been 
built  to  catch  salmon  trout.  The  snow  and  ice  were  heaped  up  against  it 
three  or  four  feet  deep  entirely  across  the  stream. 

Leaving  here  the  stream,  which  runs  through  impassable  canons,  we 
continued  our  road  over  a  very  broken  country,  passing  through  a  low  |^'^|J 
between  the  snowy  mountains.  The  rock  which  occurs  immediately  in  the 
pass  has  the  appearance  of  impure  sandstone,  containing  scales  of  black 
mica.  This  may  be  only  a  stratified  lava ;  on  issuing  from  the  gap,  the 
compact  lava,  and  other  volcanic  products  usual  in  the  country,  again  oc- 
curred. 

We  descended  from  the  gap  into  a  wide  valley,  or  rather  basin,  and 
encamped  on  a  small  tributary  to  the  last  stream,  on  which  there  was  very 
good  grass.  It  was  covered  with  such  thick  ice,  that  it  required  some 
labor  with  pick-axes  to  make  holes  for  the  animals  to  drink.  The  banks 
are  lightly  wooded  with  willow,  and  on  the  upper  bottoms  are  sage  and 
Fremontia,  with  Ephedra  occidcntalis,  which  begins  to  occur  more  fre- 
quently. 

The  day  has  been  a  summer  one,  warm  and  pleasant ;  no  snow  on  the 
trail,  which,  as  we  are  all  on  foot,  makes  travelling  more  agreeable.  The 
hunters  went  into  the  neighboring  mountains,  but  found  no  gane.  We 
have  five  Indians  in  camp  to-night. 

yannary  25//^. — The  morning  was  cold  and  bright,  and  as  th<;  sun  rose 
the  day  became  beautiful.  A  party  of  twelve  Indians  came  down  from  th- 
mountains  to  trade  pine-nuts,  of  which  each  one  carrietl  a  litde  bag.  Thesr 
seemed  now  to  be  the  staple  of  the  country  ;  and  whenever  we  met  an  In- 
dian, his  frienilly  salutation  consist(?d  in  offering  a  few  nuts  to  cat  and  to 
trade  ;   their  only  arms  wen;  bows  and  ilint-pointed  arrows. 

It  ap[)eared  that  in  almost  all  the  valleys  the  neighboring  bands  were 
at  war  with  each  other  ;  and  we  had  some  difficulty  in  prevailing  on  our 
guides  to  accompany  us  on  this  day's  journey,  being  at  war  with  the  peo- 
ple on  the  other  side  of  a  large  snowy  mountain  which  lay  before  us. 

The  general  level  of  the  country  a[)peared  to  be  getting  higher,  and 
we  were  gradually  entering  the  heart  of  the  mountains.  /\ccompanied  by 
all  the  Indians,  we  ascended  a  long  ridge  and  reachetl  a  pure  s[)rini:  at 
the  edge  of  the  timber,  where  the  Indians  had  waylaid  and  killed  an  ante- 
lope, and  where  the  greater  part  of  them  left  us.  Our  pacific  conduct  had 
quieted  their   alarms,  and  though  at  war  among  each  other  yet  all  con- 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— BRANDY  A    GOOD  MEDICINE. 


\2\ 


fided  in  us,  thanks  to  the  combined  effects  of  power  and  kindness — for 
our  arms  inspired  respect,  and  our  little  presents  and  good  treatment  con- 
ciliated their  confidence.  Here  we  suddenly  entered  snow  six  inches  deep, 
and  the  ground  was  a  little  rocky  with  volcanic  fragments,  the  mountain 
appearing  to  be  composed  of  such  rock.  The  timber  consists  principally 
of  nut-pines  {Pi  nits  nionophyllus),  which  here  are  of  a  larger  size — twelve 
to  fifteen  inches  in  diameter  ;  heaps  of  cones  lying  on  the  ground  where 
the  Indians  liad  gathered  tl;e  seeds. 

The  snow  deepened  gradually  as  we  advanced.  Our  guides  wore  out 
their  moccasons,  and  putting  one  of  them  on  a  horse,  we  enjoyed  the  un- 
usual sight  of  an  Indian  who  could  not  ride.  He  could  not  even  guide  the 
animal,  and  appeared  to  have  no  knowledge  of  horses.  The  snow  was 
three  or  four  feet  deep  on  the  summit  of  the  pass;  and  from  this  point  the 
ijuide  pointed  out  our  future  road,  declining  to  go  any  farther. 

Below  us  was  a  little  valley,  and  beyond  this  the  mountains  rose 
hi;dier  sdll,  one  ridge  above  another,  presenting  a  rude  and  rocky  outline. 
We  descended  rapidly  to  the  Vdiley  ;  the  snow  impeded  us  but  little  ;  yet 
it  was  dark  when  we  reached  tne  foot  of  the  mountain. 

The  day  had  been  so  war  n  that  our  moccasons  were  wet  with  melt- 
in;;  snow ;  but  here,  as  soon  as  the  sun  begins  to  decline,  the  air  gets  sud- 
denly cold,  and  we  hatl  great  difficulty  to  keep  our  feet  from  freezing — our 
moccasons  being  frozen  perfectly  stiff. 

After  a  hard  day's  march  of  twenty-seven  miles  we  reached  the  river, 
some  time  after  dark,  and  found  the  snow  about  a  foot  deep  on  the  bottom 
-the  river  being  entirely  frozen  over.  We  found  a  comfortable  camp 
where  there  were  dry  willows  abundant,  and  we  soon  had  blazing  fires. 

A  litde  brandy,  which  I  husbanded  with  great  care,  remained  ;  and  I 
!o  not  know  any  medicine  more  salutary,  or  any  drink  (except  coffee) 
niiire  agreeable,  than  this  in  a  cold  night  after  a  hard  day's  march.  Mr. 
I'reuKs  questioned  whether  the  fanicil  nectar  even  possessed  so  excjuisite 
a  llavor.     All  felt  it  to  be  a  revivimif  cordial. 

The  next  morning,  when  the  sun  had  not  yet  risen  over  the  mountains, 
thf  thermometer  was  two  degrees  Iielow  zero  ;  but  the  sky  was  jjright  and 
piir>',  and  the  weather  changed  rapidly  into  a  pleasant  day  of  summer.  I 
rcniained  encamped,  in  order  to  examine  the  country  and  allow  the  animals 
a  day  of  rest,  the  grass  being  good  and  abundant  under  the  snow. 

The  river  is  fifty  to  eighty  feet  wide,  with  a  lively  current  and  very 
cl(.ar  water.  It  fork(!(l  a  little  above  our  camp,  one  of  its  branches  coming 
directly  from  the  south.  At  its  head  appeared  to  be  a  handsome  pass  ; 
and  from  the  neighboring  heights  we  could  see,  beyond,  a  comparatively 
low  and  open  country,  which  was  supposed  to  form  the  valley  of  the  Buena- 
vtntura.     The  other  branch  issued  from  a  nearer  pass,  in  a  direction  S. 


<  n 


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■I    ■■1: 


3aa 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  EREMONT. 


75"  VV.,  forking  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and  receiving  part  of  its  waters 
from  a  little  lake. 

I  was  in  advance  of  the  camp  when  our  last  guides  had  left  us  ;  but  so 
far  as  could  be  understood,  this  was  the  pass  which  they  had  indicated,  and 
in  company  with  Carson,  to-day  I  set  out  to  explore  it.  Entering  the  raii^re 
we  continued  in  a  northwesterly  direction  up  the  valley,  which  here  bent 
to  the  right.  It  was  a  pretty,  open  bottom,  locked  between  lofty  mountains 
which  supplied  frequent  streams  as  we  advanced.  On  the  lower  partthev 
were  covered  with  nut-pine  trees,  and  above  with  masses  of  pine,  which  we 
easily  recognized  from  the  darker  color  of  the  foliage.  From  the  fresh 
trails  which  occurred  frequently  during  the  morning,  deer  appeared  to  be 
remarkably  numerous  in  the  mountain. 

We  had  now  entirely  left  the  desert  country,  and  were  on  the  vcr"-e  of  a 
region  which,  extending  westward  to  the  shores  of  the  Pacific,  a])ounds  in 
large  game,  and  is  covered  with  a  singular  luxuriance  of  vegetable  life. 

The  little  stream  grew  rapidly  smaller,  and  in  about  twelve  miles  we  had 
reached  its  head,  the  last  water  coming  immediately  out  of  the  mountain 
on  the  right ;  and  this  spot  was  selected  for  our  next  encam[)mcnt.  The 
grass  showed  well  in  sunny  places  ;  but  in  colder  situations  the  snow  was 
deep,  and  b(;gan  to  occur  in  banks,  through  which  the  horses  found  sdme 
difficulty  in  breaking  a  way. 

To  the  left  the  open  valley  continued  in  a  southwesterly  direction,  with 
a  scarcely  perceptible  ascent,  forming  a  beautiful  pass  ;  the  exploration  01' 
wdiich  we  deferred  until  the  next  day,  and  returned  to  t1\e  camp. 

To-day  an  Indian  passed  through  the  valley  on  his  way  into  th(?  moun- 
tains, where  he  showed  us  was  his  lodge.  We  comprehended  nothing  of 
his  language  ;  and,  though  he  appeared  to  have  no  fear,  passing  alonjj 
in  full  view  of  the  camp,  he  was  indisposed  to  hold  any  comimmication 
with  us,  but  showed  the  way  he  was  going,  and  pointed  for  us  to  <jo  on 
our  roai' 

By  observation,  the  latitude  of  this  encampment  was  38"  iS'  01",  ami 
the  elevation  above  the  sea  six  thousand  three  hundred  and  ten  feet. 

yanuary  27///. — Leaving  the  camp  to  follow  slowly,  with  directions  to 
Carson  to  encamp  at  the  place  agreed  on,  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  and  myself  con- 
tinued the  reconnoissance.  Arriving  at  the  head  of  the  stream,  we  be:,\in 
to  enter  the  [)ass — passing  occasionally  through  open  groves  of  larsije  pine- 
trees,  on  the  warm  side  of  the  defile,  where  the  snow  had  melted  away, 
occasionally  exposing  a  large  Indian  trail.  Continuing  along  a  narrow 
meadow,  we  reached  in  a  i^w  miles  the  gate  of  the  pass,  where  there  \va^ 
a  narrow  strip  of  prairie,  about  fifty  yards  wide,  between  walls  of  ^tjranitc 
rock.  On  either  sidi;  rose  the  mountains,  forming  on  the  left  a  rugfjed 
mass,  or  nucleus,  wholly  covered  with  deep  snow,  presenting  a  ghttering 


!j,  :■ 


SF.COXn   f.XP EDITION— MAJESTY  OF    THE  MOUNTAINS.        323 


and  icy  surface.  At  the  time,  we  supposed  this  to  be  the  point  into  which 
they  \vt:re  gathered  between  the  two  great  rivers,  and  from  which  the 
waters  flowed  off  to  the  bay.  This  was  the  icy  and  cold  side  of  the  pass, 
an;!  the  rays  of  the  sun  hardly  touched  the  snow.  On  the  left,  the  moun- 
tains rose  into  peaks  ;  but  they  were  lower  and  secondary,  and  the  country 
had  a  somewhat  more  open  and  lighter  character.  On  the  right  were 
several  hot  springs,  which  appeared  remarkable  in  such  a  place.  In  going 
throii"'h,  we  felt  impressed  by  the  majesty  of  the  mountain,  along  the  huge 
wall  of  which  we  were  riding.  Here  there  was  no  snow  ;  but  immediately 
beyond  was  a  deep  bank,  through  which  we  dragged  our  horses  with  con- 
siderable effort. 

We  then  immediately  struck  upon  a  stream,  which  gathered  itself  rap- 
idly, and  (k;scended  quickly  ;  and  the  valley  did  not  preserve  the  open  char- 
acter of  the  other  side;,  appearing  below  to  form  a  canon.  We  therefore 
dimbed  one  of  the  peaks  on  th"  right,  leaving  our  horses  below  ;  but  we 
were  so  much  shut  up,  that  wc  did  not  obtain  an  extensive  view,  and 
what  w(!  saw  was  not  very  satisfactory,  and  awakened  considerable 
iloubt.  1  he  valley  of  the  stream  pursued  a  northwesterly  direction,  ap- 
pearing below  to  turn  sharply  to  the  riglit,  beyond  which  further  view 
was  cut  off. 

It  was,  nevertheless,  resolved  to  continue  our  road  the  next  day  down 
'his  valley,  which  wc  trusted  still  would  prove  that  of  the  middle  stream 
i)etwecn  the  two  great  rivers.  Toward  the  summit  of  this  peak  the  fields 
of  snow  were  four  or  five  feet  deep  on  the  northern  side;  and  we  saw 
several  large  hares,  which  had  on  their  winter  color,  being  white  as  the 
snow  around  them. 

The  winter  day  is  short  in  the  mountains,  the  sun  having  but  a  small 
space  of  sky  to  travel  over  in  the  visible  part  above  our  horizon  ;  and  the 
moment  his  rays  are  gone  the  air  is  keenly  cold.  The  interest  of  our 
work  had  detained  us  long,  and  it  was  after  nightfall  when  we  reached 
the  camp. 


iu: 


i   I, 


i'ii  ' 


r'L   ; 


;    'I 


.-  V 


CHAPTER    IX. 

Men  cxliaiisted  by  Snow  and  Cold — Tlie  Sierra  Nevada — A  dreary  Outlook— Ctittim; 
Our  Way  through  Snow — Three  Dep;rees  below  Zero  top  of  Sierra  Nuviid;i— 
A/iy//< :  Pea-Soup,  Mule  and  Dog — An  Unlooked-for  Icy  Bath— Mnle  Smip— 
Severe  Suffering — Mr.  Preuss  Lost  and  Fcjund — Hearty  Receptioii  by  Ciiptaiii 
Sutter — Sutter's  Fort  and  Farm. 

yanuary  2?>ih. — To-day  we  went  throufrh  the  pass  with  all  tht;  camp, 
and,  after  a  hard  day's  journey  of  twelve  miles,  encamped  on  a  high  point 
where  the  snow  had  been  blown  off,  and  the  exposed  grass  afforded  a 
scanty  pasture  for  the  animals.  Snow  and  broken  country  together  made 
our  travelling  difficult  ;  we  were  often  compelled  to  make  large  circuits. 
and  ascend  the  highest  and  most  exposed  ridges,  in  order  to  avoid  snow, 
which  in  other  places  was  banked  up  to  a  great  depth. 

During  the  day  a  few  Indians  were  seen  circling  around  us  on  snow- 
shoes,  and  skimming  along  like  birds  ;  but  we  could  not  bring  them  with- 
in speaking  distance. 

Godey,  who  was  a  little  distance  from  the  camp,  had  sat  down  to  tif 
liis  moccasins,  when  he  heard  a  low  whistle  near,  and  looking  up,  saw 
two  Indians  half-hiding  behind  a  rock  about  forty  yards  distant ;  they 
would  not  allow  him  to  approach,  but  breaking  into  a  laugh,  skimmed  off 
over  the  snow,  seeming  to  have  no  idea  of  the  power  of  fire-arms,  ami 
thinking"-  themselves  perfectly  safe  when  beyond  arm's  length. 

To  night  we  did  not  succeed  in  getting  the  howitzer  into  camp.  This 
was  the  most  laborious  clay  we  had  yet  passed  through  ;  the  steep  ascents 
and  deep  snow  exhausting  both  men  and  animals.  Our  single  chronometer 
had  stopped  during  the  day,  and  its  error  in  time  occasioned  the  loss  of  an 
eclipse,  of  a  satellite  this  evening.  It  had  not  preserved  the  rate  with 
which  we  started  from  the  Dalles,  and  this  will  account  for  the  absence 
of  longitudes  along  this  interval  of  our  journey. 

yanuary  29///.— From  this  height  we  could  see,  at  a  considerable  dis- 
tance below,  yellow  spots  in  the  valley,  which  indicated  that  there  was 
not  much  snow.  One  of  these  places  we  expected  to  reach  to-nii^^ht; 
and  some  time  being  rerpiired  to  bring  up  the  gun,  I  went  ahead  with  Mr. 
F"itzpatrick  and  a  few  men,  leaving  the  camp  to  follow  in  charge  of  Mr. 
Preuss. 


SECOXn  EXri:niTION—MRM  exhausted  by  snow  and  cold.     325 

Wo  followed  a  trail  down  a  hollow  where  the  Indians  had  descended, 
the  snow  being  so  deep  that  we  never  came  near  the  ground  ;  but  this 
cmly  made  our  descent  the  easier,  and  when  we  reached  a  little  affluent 
to  the  river  at  the  bottom,  we  suddenly  found  ourselves  in  presence  of 
ci"ht  or  ten  Indians.  They  seemed  to  be  watching  our  motions,  and  like 
the  others,  at  first  were  indisposed  to  let  us  approach,  ranging  themselves 
like  birds  on  a  fallen  log;  on  the  hill-side  above  our  heads,  where,  being; 
out  of  reach,  they  thought  themselves  safe.  Our  friendly  demeanor  recon- 
ciled them,  and  when  we  got  near  enough,  they  immediately  stretched  out 
to  us  handfuls  of  pine-nuts,  which  seemed  an  exercise  of  hospitality.  We 
made  them  a  few  presents,  and  telling  us  that  their  village  was  a  few  miles 
helow,  they  went  on  to  let  their  people  know  what  we  were. 

The  principal  stream  still  running  through  an  impracticable  cafion,  we 
ascended  a  very  steep  hill,  which  proved  afterward  the  last  and  fatal 
obstacle  to  our  little  howitzer,  which  was  finally  abandoned  at  this  place. 
We  passed  through  a  small  meadow  a  few  miles  below,  crossing  the  river, 
which  depth,  swift  current,  and  rock  made  it  difficult  to  ford  ;  and  after  a 
tew  more  miles  of  very  difficult  trail,  issued  into  a  larger  prairie  bottom, 
at  the  farther  end  of  which  we  encamped,  in  a  position  rendered  strong  by 
rocks  and  trees.  The  lower  parts  of  the  mountain  were  covered  with  the 
nut-pine. 

Several  Indians  appeared  on  the  hill-side,  reconnoitring  the  camp, 
and  were  induced  to  come  in ;  others  came  in  during  the  afternoon  ;  and 
in  the  evening  we  held  a  council.  They  immediately  made  it  clear  that 
the  water  on  which  we  were  also  belonged  to  the  Great  Basin,  in  the 
edge  of  which  we  had  been  since  December  17th  ;  and  it  became  evident 
that  we  had  still  the  great  ridge  on  the  left  to  cross  before  we  could  reach 
the  Pacific  waters. 

We  explained  to  the  Indians  that  we  were  endeavoring  to  find  a  pas- 
sasje  across  the  mountains  into  the  country  of  the  whites,  whom  we  were 
jjoin^i  to  see  :  and  told  them  that  we  wished  them  to  bring  us  a  guide,  to 
whom  we  would  give  presents  of  scarlet  cloth  and  other  articles,  which 
were  shown  to  them.  They  looked  at  the  reward  we  offered,  and  conferred 
with  each  other,  but  pointed  to  the  snow  on  the  mountain,  and  drew  their 
hands  across  their  necks,  and  raised  them  above  their  heads,  to  show  the 
tlepth ;  and  signified  that  it  was  impossible  for  us  to  get  through.  They 
made  signs  that  we  must  go  to  the  southward,  over  a  pass  through  a  lower 
range,  which  they  pointed  out  ;  there,  they  said,  at  the  end  of  one  day's 
travel,  we  would  find  people  who  lived  near  a  pass  in  the  great  mountain  ; 
and  to  that  point  they  engaged  to  furnish  us  a  guide.  They  appeared  to 
liave  a  confused  idea,  from  report,  of  whites  who  lived  on  the  other  side 
ot  the  mountain  ;  and  once,  they  told  us,  about  two  years  ago,  a  party  of 


.:■) ' 


Ell;     Mp.i    'I 


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fill 


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3J()  ,)//■:.)/()/ A'S  OF  MV  /.//-/•:    JOIIX  Cll\ RI.es  I'REMOXT. 

twelve  men,  like  ourscjlvcs  had  asceiulc-il  tlieir  river,  and  crossed  to  the 
other  waters.  Thc-y  [)ointed  out  to  us  where  they  had  crossed  ;  hut  then 
they  said,  it  was  suininer  lime;  ;   now  it  would  be  iin|)ossiI)le. 

I  believe  that  this  was  ,i  parly  led  by  Mr.  Chiles,  one  of  the  only  two 
men  whom  1  know  to  have  passed  thron.;h  lh<:  California  inuuiUaiiis  from 
the  interior  of  the  Ikisin  Walker  beim;  the  other;  and  both  wore  (ii- 
^a^'ed  upward  of  twiMily  days,  in  the  summer  time,  in  L.^ettiii"-  over 
Chiles's  destination  was  the  I^ay  of  San  I'rancisco,  to  Vvhich  he  ciesiciiiltd 
by  the  Stanislaus  River  ;  am!  Walker  sul)siH[uently  inlnrmed  me  tii.it 
like  myself,  desc(Muliny  to  the  southward  on  a  more  eastern  line,  dav  afti  r 
day  he  was  searchinLi-  for  tin;  lUienaventura,  thinkin;L;'  thai  he  had  fomi.! 
it  with  every  new  stream,  until,  like  me,  he  abamloncd  all  idea  of  its  ex- 
istence, and  turning;  abru[)tly  to  the  ri^^dit,  crossed  the  q;real  chain.  Thisc 
were  both  \\'(!stern  men,  animated  with  the  spirit  of  e.\[)lorator\-  eln(M■]ll■i^• 
which  characterizes  that  peojde. 

'l"hc  Indians  brout^dit  in  during  the  (.'venin^,'  an  abundant  supply  of  pine- 
nuts,  which  we  tradetl  from  them.  When  roasted,  tlu;ir  pleasant  llavor 
made  them  an  agreeable  addition  to  our  now  scanty  store  of  |)rovisi()n>, 
wdiich  were  reduced  to  a  very  low  ebb.  Our  principal  stock  was  in  peas, 
which  it  is  not  mxessary  to  say  contain  scarcely  any  nutriment.  We  hal 
still  a  little  llour  left,  some  coffee,  aiul  a  (puuitity  of  sugar,  which  I  rcserveil 
as  a  defence  against  starvation. 

The  Indians  inforuKHl  us  that  at  cc^rtain  seasons  tiiey  hav<!  fish  in  tluir 
wati'rs,  whicli  we  su[)[)Osed  to  l)c  salmon-trout  ;  tor  the  remainder  of  ihr 
year  they  live  upon  the  pine-nuts,  which  form  their  great  winter  sul)sist 
ence  a  portion  being  always  at  hand,  shut  up  in  the  natural  storehouse 
of  the;  cones.  .\t  present  the)'  were  presented  to  us  as  a  whole  people 
living  upon  this  simple  vegetable. 

The  other  division  of  tlie  party  did  not  come  in  to-night,  but  encamped 
\x\  the  upper  meadow,  and  arrived  the  next  morning.  They  had  not  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  the  howitzer  beyond  the  place  mentioned,  and  where  it 
had  been  left  l)y  Mr.  Preuss  in  obedience  to  my  ordt;rs  ;  and,  in  anticipi- 
tion  of  the  snow-banks  and  snow-fieMs  still  ahead,  foreseeing  the  inevita- 
ble detentiiMi  to  which  it  wouUl  subject  us,  I  reluctantly  determined  to 
leave  it  th(!re  for  the;  time.  It  was  of  the  kind  invented  by  the  French 
for  the  mountain  part  of  their  war  in  Algiers  ;  and  the  distance  it  hal 
come  with  us,  proved  how  well  it  was  adapted  to  its  purpose.  \\  e  lelr 
it,  to  the  great  sorrow  of  the  wdiole  party,  who  were  grieved  to  part  wrJi 
a  companion  which  had  made  the  whole  distance  from  St.  Louis,  and  com- 
manded respect  for  us  on  some  critical  occasions,  and  which  might  be 
needed  for  the  same  purpose  again. 

yaniiary  2)'^ih. — Our    guide,   who  was  a  young    man,  joined   us  this 


r  IX 


*'t  M  p] 


*:    I 


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^    i. 


l*«V 


TALK    WITH    INDIANS  OF    EASTERN    SLOPE   SIERRA    NEVADA 


;u3; 


-I 


■lis-' 

'^^H'  ' 

■if  ■  ii::-i  - 

i  1 

1 

1M-||' 

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I'll 

I,!ifl»|!l(.  "J  I  I  ,J|,  ;.||:lki 


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L.l.ii]|j 

Jl>tir 

SECOXD   EXPEDITION— THE  SIERRA    NEVADA. 


327 


mornin"";  and  leaving  our  encampment  late  in  the  day,  we  descended  the 
river,  which  immediately  opened  out  into  a  broad  valley,  furnishing-  good 
travelli'i"'  fjround.  In  a  short  distance  we  passed  the  village,  a  collection 
of  straw  huts ;  and  a  {f:.'^'  miles  below  the  guide  pointed  out  the  place 
where  the  whites  had  bccMi  encamped  before  they  entered  the  mountain. 

With  our  late  start  we  made  but  ten  miles,  and  encamped  on  the  low 
river  liottoni.  wlicre  there  was  no  snow,  but  a  great  deal  of  ice;  and  we 
cat  piles  of  long  grass  to  lay  under  our  b'ankets,  and  fires  were  made  of 
hr'TC  dry  willows,  groves  of  which  wooded  the  stream.  The  river  took 
here  a  northeasterly  direction,  and  through  a  spur  from  the  mountahis  on 
tiie  left  was  the  gap  where  we  were  to  pass  the  next  day. 

'January  '^\st. — We  took  our  way  over  a  gently  rising  ground,  the  di- 


vicliiiL,^  rie 


gc  being  tolerably  low  ;  and  travelling  easily  along  a  broad  trail, 
in  twelve  or  fourteen  miles  reached  the  upper  part  of  the  pass,  when  it 
beiTan  to  snow  heavily,  with  very  cold  weather.  The  Indians  had  only 
the  usual  scanty  covering,  and  appeared  to  suffer  greatly  from  the  cold. 
All  left  us  except  our  guide.  Malf-hiddcn  by  the  storm,  'die  moimtains 
looked  dreary  ;  and,  as  night  began  to  approach,  the  guids  showed  great 
reluctance  to  go  forward.  I  placed  him  between  two  rifles,  for  the  way 
bei^an  to  be  uiflicult.  Travelling  a  little  farther,  we  struck  a  ravine,  whicii 
the  Indian  said  would  contluct  us  to  the  river  ;  <intl  as  the  poor  fellow  si;f- 
fered greatly,  shivering  in  the  snow  which  fell  upon  his  naked  skin,  I  would 
not  detain  hiin  any  longer;  and  he  ran  off  to  the  mountain,  where,  he  said, 
there  was  a  hut  nearby.  He  hail  kept  the  blue  and  scarlet  cloth  I  hail 
;Mven  him  tightly  rolled  u[),  preferring  rather  to  endin-e  the  cold  than  to 
qct  them  wet. 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon,  one  of  the  men  had  a  foot  frost-bitten  ; 
and  alKuit  dark  we  had  the  satisfaction  of  reoi-hi,,,^  Mie  bottiMns  of  a  stream 
timbered  with,  large  trees,  among  which  we  found  a  sheltered  camp,  with 
an  abundance  of  such  crrass  as  the  seasi  :\  afforded  for  the  animals.  We 
■aw  before  us,  in  descending  from  the  pass,  a  great  continuous  range,  along 
whicIi  stretched  the  valley  of  the  river  ;  the  lower  parts  steep,  and  dark 
\vi:h  pines,  while,  above,  it  was  hidden  in  clouds  of  snow.  This  we  felt  in- 
^tantly  satisfujil  was  the  central  ridge'  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  the  great  Cali- 
lorni.i  Mountain,  whicli  only  now  intervene  I  b''tween  us  and  the  wati^'rs  of 
the  bay.  We  had  made  a  forced  uiarca  of  tw('nt\--si\  miles,  and  three  mules 
had  yiven  out  on  the  road.  Tp  in  this  puint,  with  llu;  exception  of  two 
stolen  hy  Indians,  we  had  lost  none  of  the  horses  which  had  been  brought 
from  the  Coliunbia  River,  and  a  number  of  these  wre  still  .strong  and  in 
tolerably  i^^ooil  order.     We  had  now  si.xty-seven  aninals  in  the  band. 

Wr  had  scarcely  lighted  our  fires,  when  the  camp  was  crowdt^d  with 
"early  naked  Indians  ;  some  of  them  were  furnished  with   long  nets  in  ad- 


t 


'  \  ' 


I    '' 


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32S 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


tlition  to  bows,  and  appeared  to  have  been  out  on  the  sa<^e  hills  to  hunt 
rabbits.  These  nets  were,  perhaps,  thirty  to  forty  feet  lony,  kept  iipri  iu 
in  the  ground  by  slight  sticks  at  intervals,  and  were  made  from  a  kind  of 
wild  hemp,  very  much  resembling,  in  manufacture,  those  common  amon"^ 
the  Indians  of  the  Sacramento  Valley.  They  came  among  us  v.  idiout  aiiv 
fear,  and  scattered  themselves  about  the  fires,  mainly  ocfiipied  in  fratifv- 
ing  their  astonishment.  1  was  struck  by  the  singular  appearance  of  a  row 
of  about  a  dozen,  Avhn  were  sitting  on  their  haunches  percli(;d  on  a  lo"- 
near  one  of  the  fires,  with  tlniir  cpiick  sharp  eyes  following  cNcry  moliim. 

We  gathered  together  a  few  of  the  most  intelligent  of  the  Indians,  and 
held  this  evening  an  interesting  council.  I  e.\[jlained  to  them  my  inti.n- 
tions.  I  told  them  that  we  had  come  from  a  very  far  country,  havin'fbceii 
travelling  now  nearly  a  \ear,  and  that  we  were  desirous  simply  to  go  across 
the  mountain  info  the  country  of  the  othc;r  whites.  Th(jre  were  two  wIki 
appeared  particularly  int(;lligent  -one,  a  somewhat  old  man.  IK;  told  mc 
that,  before  the  snows  fell,  it  was  six  sleeps  to  the  place  where  the  whites 
lived,  but  that  now  it  was  impossibh;  to  cross  the  mountain  on  account  of 
the  deep  snow  ;  and  showing  us,  as  the  others  had  dou'  ,  lliat  iC  was  o  i  ;■ 
our  heads,  he  urgfxl  us  strongly  to  follow  the  course  of  the  river,  wliich  in: 
said  would  conduct  us  to  a  lake  in  which  there  were  many  large  fish. 
There,  he  said,  were  many  people  ;  there  was  no  snow  on  the  groiiml, 
and  we  might  remain  then;  until  the  spring. 

brom  their  ilesrripti<ms  wi;  were  enabled  to  judge  ih.at  we  had  i  n- 
camp(;d  on  the  upper  water  of  the  Salmon  Trout  River.  It  is  haidl\'  neces- 
sary to  say  that  our  communication  was  only  by  signs,  as  wi;  understood 
nothing  of  th''''-  language  ;  but  they  spoke,  notwithstanding,  rapidl}'  aiiii 
vehemently,  explaining  what  they  considered  the  folly  of  our  intention  . 
and  urging  us  to  go  down  to  the  lake.  Tdh-vi\  a  word  sii^nifying  snow, 
we  v<,'ry  soon  learned  to  know,  from  its  frtHjiujiit  repetition.  1  tidd  him 
tiiat  the  men  and  tlu;  horses  were;  strong,  and  that  we  would  break  a  road 
through  the  snow  ;  and  spreading  before  him  our  bales  of  scarlet  (dotii, 
and  trinkets,  showed  him  what  we  wouUl  give  for  a  guide.  It  was  neces 
sary  to  ol:)tain  one,  if  possible  •  for  I  had  determined  here  to  attempt  tlv 
passage  of  the  mountain. 

Pulling  a  bunch  of  grass  from  the  ground,  after  a  short  discussion  atnnn; 
themselves,  the  old  man  made  us  com[)rehend  that  if  we  couKl  breai; 
through  the  snow,  at  the  end  of  thrt;e  tlays  we  would  come  down  upon 
prass,  wdiich  hi;  showed  us  would  be  about  si.x  inches  high,  and  wh'rr  the 
ground  was  entirely  free.  So  far,  Ik;  said,  he  hail  been  in  hunting  lor  elk; 
but  beyond  that  (and  he;  closed  his  eyes)  he  had  s(;en  nothing;  hut  there 
was  one  among  them  who  had  been  to  tlie  whites,  and,  going  out  ol  the 
lodge,  he  returned  with  a  young  man  of  very  intelligent  appearance.    Here, 


III 


SECOND   EXPEDITION— A    DREARY  OUTLOOK. 


M^- 


said  he,  \'?<  a  young  man  who  has  seen  the  whites  with  his  own  eyes  ;  and 
he  swore,  tirst  by  the  sky,  and  then  by  the  ground,  that  what  he  said  was 
true.  With  a  large  present  of  goods  we  prevailed  upon  this  young  man 
10  be  our  guide,  and  he  ac([uired  among  us  the  name  iMelo  — a  word 
M'liifying  friend,  which  they  used  \ery  frec|uently.  I  fe  was  thinly  clad, 
and  nearly  barefoot ;  his  moccasins  being  about  worn  out.  We  gave  him 
-kins  to  make  a  new  pair,  and  to  enable  him  to  perform  his  undertaking 
I.)  us.  llie  Indians  remained  in  th(;  camp  iluring  the  night,  and  we 
kept  ihe  guide  and  two  others  to  sleep  in  the  ]t)dge  with  us — Carson 
Kin"' across  the  iloor,  and  having  made  lliem  ccjinpr'-hent,!  the  use  of  our 
lire-arms. 

The'  snow,  which  had  intermitted  in  the  evening,  commenced  falling 
a:^ain  in  thi'  course  of  the  night,  and  it  snowed  steadily  all  day.  In  the 
::ioriiing  I  ac(|uainted  the  men  with  my  decision,  and  cxijlained  to  llu-in 
li.at  ne(i-i^i'\  re([uired  us  to  make  a  great  ellort  to  cleai"  the  momitains. 
I  n  niimlcd  iheiii  of  the  beautiful  \  alie)-  of  the  Sacramento,  with  which 
uii-'V  weri'  familiar  from  the  descri[)tions  of  I'arson,  who  had  been  there 
.ome  fifteen  years  ;i  and  who,  in  our  late  privations,  had  delighted  us 
in  speaking  of  its  ri' !>  I'.stures  and  abounding  game,  and  drew  a  vivid 
-mtrast  between  its  simimer  climate,  less  than  a  hundred  miles  distant, 
•iiid  the  falling  snow  aroimd  us.  I  infornn  d  them  (and  long  experience 
ad  ijiven  them  confidence  in  my  observations  and  good  instruments)  that 
liinost  directly  west,  and  only  id)oiit  seventy  miles  distant,  was  the  great 
larmini^f  e^!  Mishment  of  Captain  .Sutter- -a  gentleman  wdio  had  formerly 
lived  in  Missouri,  and,  emigrating  to  this  country,  had  become  the  pos- 
sessor of  a  principality.  I  assured  them  that,  from  the  heights  of  the  moun- 
t.iin  before  us,  we  should  doubtless  s<  the  \'alley  of  the  Sacramento  River, 
^'  1  with  niu;  effort  place  ourseUes  again  in  the  midst  of  [)lenty. 

Ihe  people  received  this  decision  with  the  cheerful  obedience  which 
had  always  characterizeil  them  ;  and  the  dav  was  immediately  devoted  to 
tlie  preparations  necessary  to  enable  us  to  carry  it  into  effect.  Leggings, 
moccasins,  clothing — all  were  put  into  the  best  state  to  resist  the  cold.  Our 
;'uide  was  not  neglectetl.  I'lxtremit)  of  suffering  might  make  him  desert ; 
«e  therefore  ilid  the  best  we  could  for  him.  Lt^ggings,  moccasins,  some 
artides  of  clothing,  and  a  large  green  blanket,  in  addition  to  the  blue  and 
^■arlet  cloth,  wen  lavishetl  upon  him,  and  to  his  great  and  evident  con- 
i'l.tment.  1  le  .irrayed  himself  in  all  hi.  odors;  and,  clatl  in  green,  blue, 
iiiu  scarlet  he  made  a  gaydookiiii:  Indian  ;  and,  with  his  \arious  presents, 
■vas  probably  richer  and  l)etter  clothed  than  any  of  his  tribe  had  ever  been 
lictiire, 

I  have  .ilre.uly  said  that  our  |)rovisii)iis  were  very  low  ;   we  had  neither 
tiilliiw  nor  grease  of  any  kind  remaining,  atvU  the  want  of  salt  became  one 


iu 


i:!il 

1^'' , 


-H 


I  !^ 


'1 

: 

i 
1 

1 

1      i      r 

1, 

I 


I  - 


1 

1 

1 

■J 

1:    ll 

: 

',:  w         i 

330 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  IJFE—JOHN  CHARLES  FRKMOXT. 


of  our  greatest  privations.  The  poor  dog  which  had  been  found  in  th,. 
Bear  River  Valley,  and  which  had  been  a  compagtioii  dc  voyas^c  ever  since 
had  now  become  fat,  and  the  mess  to  which  it  belonged  requesied  permis- 
sion to  kill  it.  Leave  was  granted.  Spread  out  on  the  snow,  th(;  meat 
looked  very  good  ;  and  it  made  a  strengthening  meal  for  the  greater  part 
of  the  camp.  Indians  brought  in  two  or  tluve  rabbits  during  the  day,  wliici; 
were  purchased  from  them. 

The  river  was  forty  to  seventy  feet  wide,  and  now  entirely  frozen  over. 
It  was  wooded  with  large  cotton-wood,  willow,  and  oraiiis  dc  ba-uf.  \\\ 
observation,  the  latitude  of  this  (;ncampment  was  38    37'  18". 

February  2d.  -\\.  had  ceased  snowing,  and  this  morning  the  lower  air 
was  clear  and  frosty  ;  and  si.\  or  seven  thousand  feet  above,  the  peaks  of 
the  Sierra  now  and  then  appeared  among  the  rolling  clouds,  which  werr 
rapidly  dispersing  before  the  sun.  Our  Indian  shook  his  head  as  he  pointed 
to  the  icy  pinnacles  shooting  high  up  into  the  sky,  and  seeming  almost  im- 
mediately above  us.  Crossing  the  river  on  the  ice,  and  leaving  it  imme- 
diately, we  commenctid  the  ascent  of  the  mountain  along  the  valley  of  a 
tributary  stream.  The  people  were  unusually  silent ;  for  every  man  knew 
that  our  enterprise  was  hazardous,  and  the  issue  doubtful. 

The  snow  deepened  rapidly,  and  it  soon  became  necessary  to  break  a 
road.  For  this  service,  a  party  of  ten  was  formed,  mounted  on  the  strong- 
est horses  ;  each  man  in  succession  opening  the  road  on  foot,  or  on  horse- 
back, until  himself  and  his  horse  became  fatigued,  when  he  stepped  asitle; 
and,  the  remaining  number  passing  ahead,  he  took  his  station  in  the  rear. 
Leaving  this  stream,  and  pursuing  a  very  direct  course,  we  passed  over  an 
intervenino-  ridge  to  the  river  we  had  left. 

On  the  way  we  passed  two  low  huts  entirely  covered  with  snow,  which 
might  very  easily  have  escaped  observation.  A  family  was  living  in  each; 
and  the  only  trail  I  saw  in  the  neighborhood  was  from  the  door  hole  to  a 
nut-pine  tree  near,  which  supplied  them  with  food  and  fuel.  We  louii' 
two  similar  huts  on  the  creek  wdiere  we  next  arrived;  and,  travellin;^  a 
little  higher  up,  encamped  on  its  banks  in  about  four  feet  depth  of  snow, 
Carson  found  near,  an  open  hill-side,  where  the  wind  and  the  sim  haii 
melted  the  snow,  leaving  e.xposed  sufficient  bunch-grass  for  the  animals 
to-night. 

The  nut-pines  were  now  gi^'ing  way  to  heavy  timber,  and  there  wcr! 
some  immense  pines  on  the  bottom,  around  the  roots  of  which  thesuiina: 
meltc^d  away  the  snow  ;  and  here  wi;  maile  our  camps  and  built  huoelircv 
To-day  w<:  had  travelled  si.vteen  miles,  and  our  elevation  above  the  sea  Ma- 
six  thousand  seven  hundred  cUid  sixty  feet. 

/•'c'(^;7/(?;j' 3^/.-— Turning  our  faces  directly  toward  the  main  chain,"' 
ascended  an  open  hollow  along  a  small  tributary  to  the  river,  which,  ac- 


SECOXD  EXPEDfTtON— CUTTING    OUR   WAV    THROUGH  SA'OW. 


cordiiv  to  the  Indians,  issues  from  a  mountain  to  the  south.  The  snow 
was  so  deep  in  the  hollow,  that  we  were  obliged  to  travel  alonjT  the  steep 
hill-sitles,  and  over  spurs,  where  wind  and  sun  had  in  places  lessened  the 
snow,  am'  where  the  gryss,  which  appeared  to  be  in  good  quality  along  the 
sides  (if  the  nunintains,  was  exposed. 

\V(;  ojjened  our  road  in  the  same  way  as  yesterday,  but  made  only  seven 
miles;  and  encamped  by  some  springs  at  the  loot  of  a  high  and  steep  hill, 
bv  which  the  hollow  ascended  to  another  basin  in  the  mountain.  The  lit- 
de  stream  below  was  entirely  buried  in  snow.  The  springs  were  shaded 
bv  the  houghs  of  a  lofty  cedar,  which  here  made  its  first  appearance  ;  the 
usual  hfight  was  one  hundred  and  twenty  to  one  hundred  and  thirty  feet, 
ami  one  that  was  nieasuretl  near  by  was  six  feet  in  diameter. 

'riKT(;  being  no  grass  exposed  here,  the  horses  were  sent  back  to  that 
uiiich  \v(;  b.atl  seen  a  few  miles  below.  We  occupied  the  remainder  o*"  the 
dav  in  heating  down  a  road  to  the  foot  of  the  hill,  a  mile  or  two  distant ; 
die  snow  being  beaten  down  when  moist,  in  the  warm  part  of  the  day,  and 
then  liaril  frozen  at  night,  made  a  foundation  that  would  bear  the  weight  of 
the  animals  the  next  morning.  During  the  day  several  Indians  joined  us 
on  snow-shoes.  These  were  made  of  a  circular  hoop,  about  a  foot  in  di- 
ameter, the'  interior  s[K\ce  being  filled  with  an  open  network  of  bark. 

February  \tIi.—\  went  ahead  early  with  two  or  three  men,  each  v.ith  a 
led  horse,  to  break  the  road.  We  were  obliged  to  abandon  the  hollow  en- 
tirely, ami  work  along  the  mountain-side,  which  was  very  steep,  and  the 
snow  covered  with  an  icy  crust.  We  cut  a  footing  as  we  advanced,  and 
trampled  a  road  through  for  the  animals  ;  but  occasionally  one  plunged  out- 
side the  trail,  and  slided  along  the  field  to  the  bottom,  a  hundred  yards 
below. 

Lat('  in  the  day  we  reached  another  bench  in  the  hollow,  \/here  in 
summer  the  stream  passed  over  a  small  precipice.  Mere  was  a  short  dis- 
tance of  dividing  ground  between  tin;  two  ridges,  and  beyond  an  open  ba- 
sin, soiiu'  ten  miles  across,  whose  bottom  presentetl  a  field  of  snow.  At 
the  liirth(  r  or  western  side  rose  the  middle  crest  of  the  mountain,  a  dark 
iookinjj;  ridge  of  volcanic  rock. 

rile  smninit  line  presented  a  range  of  naketl  peaks,  apparently  destitute 
ol  snow  and  vegetation  ;  but  below,  the  fice  of  the  whole  country  was 
covered  with  timber  of  extraordinary  size.  The  view  given  of  this  ridge 
IS  from  a  canip  on  the  western  side  of  the  basin. 

Toward  a  [jass  whi(di  the  guide  indicated  here,  we  attempted  in  ih.e  af- 
ternoon to  force;  a  roat'i  ;  but  after  a  laborious  plunging  through  two  or 
three  htuidred  yards,  our  1)est  horses  gave  out,  entirely  refiising  to  make 
'Illy  further  effort ;  and,  for  the  time,  we  were  brought  to  a  stand.  The 
guide  informed  us  that  wc  were  entering  the  deep  sncw,  and  here  began 


I*- 

i    ( 

•I 
\ 


I 


i^    ! 


M     "■ 


«  #1 


I      : 


Iv^aV 


«3k.       ^' 


n.ppi«"'«^'T,i|j;  ■;  :':  •    i 


i       ,   I 


!|P  ^ 


332 


MF..VOIRS  OF  MY  f./FF—JOffX  (7/.I A'/.FS  FA'FA/O.V/: 


4 


m  >i 


the  difficulties  of  the  mountain  ;  and  to  him,  and  ahnost  to  all,  our  entfr- 
prise  seemed  hopeless.  I  returneel  a  short  distance  back,  to  the  break  in 
the  hollow,  where  I  met  Mr.  iMtzpatrick. 

The  c;.mp  had  been  all  the  day  occupied  in  endeavoring  to  ascciul  iJU' 
hill,  but  only  the  best  hoises  had  succeeded.  The  animals,  geuerallv,  nut 
haviuLj'  s'lfficient  stren^^th  to  brim^^  themselves  up  without  the  packs  ;  an  1 
all  the  line  of  road  between  this  and  the  sprinj^^^s  was  strewed  with  caiiin 
stores  and  equipa_L;e,  and  horses  llountierin^-  in  snow. 

I  therefore  immediately  encampeil  on  the  ground  with  my  own  mcs^, 
which  was  in  advance,  and  tlirected  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  to  encamp  at  the 
springs,  and  send  all  the  .uvimals  in  charge  of  Tabeau,  with  a  strong  'niarti, 
back  to  the  place  where  tlvy  had  been  pastured  the  night  before.  Here 
was  a  small  spot  of  level  ground,  protected  on  one  side  bv  thr  mouiitaiii, 
and  on  the  other  sheltered  b)'  a  little  ridge:  ol  rock.  It  was  an  opca  gnnc 
of  pines,  which  assimilated  in  size  to  the  grandeur  of  the  mountain,  bcin '• 
frequently  six  feet  in  diameter. 

To-night  we  had  no  shelter,  but  we  made  a  large  tire  around  die  truni< 
of  one  of  the  huge  pines  ;  and  covering  the  -..now  with  small  houghs,  on 
whicli  we  spread  our  blankets,  soon  made  oiirselves  comfortable  The 
night  was  very  bright  and  clear,  and  though  the  thermometer  was  only 
down  to  10  ,  a  strop.g  wind  which  sprang  up  at  sundown,  made  it  intenselv 
cold  ;  and  this  was  one  of  the  bitterest  nights  during  the  journey. 

Two  Indians  joined  our  pari\  here  ,  antl  one  of  them,  an  old  man,  im- 
med'  ■:!. 'j  began  to  harangue  us,  saying  ihat  ourselves  and  animals  wouKi 
perish  in  the  snow,  and  that  if  we  would  go  back,  he  would  show  us  an- 
'ith<!r  and  a  betti-r  way  across  the  mountain,  lie  spoke  in  a  verv  lou'l 
\oice,  and  there  was  a  singular  repetition  of  ph.rases  and  arrangement  oi 
wo.'ds  which  rendertnl  his  speech  striking  and  ntit  immusical. 

We  had  now  begun  to  understand  some  words,  ami,  with  the  aid  oi 
signs,  easily  comprehendetl  the  old  man's  sim[)le  itleas.  "  Kock  upon 
rock— rock  upon  rock — snow  upon  snow  —snow  upon  snow."  said  he: 
"  L-ven  if  vou  get  over  the  snow,  you  will  not  be  able  to  get  down  from  tiie 
mountains."  He  made  us  the  Mgn  of  i^rtxSpices,  ami  showed  us  how  tht; 
feet  of  the  horses  \s  .^uld  slip,  and  throw  thom  off  Worn  the  narrow  trails 
which  le>    along  tltcir  sides. 

i\\v  Chinook,  wdio  comprehended  even  mom  readil)'  thaii  (uirselvts. 
wmd  believed  our  situation  hopeless,  v»vered  his  head  with  his  blanket. 
and  began  to  weep  and  lament.  "  i  wanted  to  see  the  whites,  said  he: 
••  I  caime  away  8iro>ina  «jy  own  iteopJtii-  to  see  tlv  whit(>s,  and  1  wouldn't  can- 
to  dir  amont!^  tbrit\  ,  but  hi'vv  "  -ami  he  looked  around  into  the  cold  ni'jhi 
and  ^-loomv  torest,  uaid,  -jaju-wio^  laAs  bkuiket  over  kis  head,  beguu  again  10 
iannmc 


li  f 


sECO.y/^  /:\'pj:/)rnox—cARSOAr  meets  an  old  acquaintance.    33 ^ 

Seiitcd  around  the  tree,  the  fire  ilhiminating  the  rocks  and  the  tall  holls 
oftiic  piiiL's  round  about,  and  the  old  Indian  haranguing,  we  presentcxl  a 
(froiip  of  i  cry  serious  faces. 

Fcbriiayy  •^tli. — The  night  had  been  too  cold  to  sleep,  and  \vc  were  up 
verv  early.  Our  guide  was  standing  by  the  lire  with  all  his  finer\'  on  ; 
;iiul  sccmiil;'  him  shiver  in  the  cold,  I  threw  on  his  shoulders  one  ol  iii\- 
blaiiki't'^.  We  missed  him  a  {^.w  minutes  afterward,  and  never  saw  him 
ivain.  lie  liad  deserted.  I  lis  bad  faith  and  treachery  were  in  perk;ct 
lat'piiu;  with  the  estimate  of  Indian  character  which  a  long  intercoui'se 
with  this  people  had  gradually  lorccil  upon  my  mind. 

W'hih'  a  jjurtion  ot  tlu;  cam[)  were  occupied  in  bringing  up  the  baggage 
to  this  [)oint,  the  remainder  were  busied  in  making  sledges  and  snow-shoes. 
1  had  determined  to  e.xplore  the  mountain  ahead,  and  the  shxlges  were  to 
he  used  in  transporting  the  baggage. 

The  mountains  here  consisted  wholly  of  a  white  micacc;ous  granite. 
The  (lay  was  perfectly  cleaa-,  antl   while  the  sun  was   in   th(;  sky,  warm 
and  pleasant. 

By  (ibs(;rvation,  our  latitude  was  38  42'  26";  and  elevation,  by  the; 
hoilin;^-[)()int,  seven  thousand  four  liundred  feet. 

I'lbniiiiv  6//1. — Accompanied  by  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  I  set  out  to-da\  with 
a  reconnoitring  party,  on  snow-shoes.  We  marched  all  in  single  iiK'. 
trampling  the  snow  as  heavily  as  we  could.  Crossing  the  open  basin,  in 
a  march  of  about  ten  miles  we  reached  the  top  of  one  of  the  peaks,  to  the 
left  of  the  pass  indicated  by  our  guide. 

l'"ar  liclow  u-',  dimmed  by  the  distance,  was  a  large  snowless  valley, 
hounded  on  the  western  side,  at  the  distance  of  about  a  hundred  miles,  by 
a  low  range  of  mountains,  which  Carson  recognized  with  delight  a^  tin; 
111  iimtains  bordering  the  coast.  "  There,"  saitl  he,  "  is  the  little  moiuiiain 
it  is  fiftrcn  years  ago  since  I  saw  it  ;  but  I  am  just  as  siu'e  as  if  I  h.id 
sien  it  yesterday."  Between  us,  then,  and  this  low  coast  range,  w  as  the 
\  alley  of  the  .Sacramento  ;  and  no  one  wdio  had  not  accompanied  us  through 
the  incid'  nts  of  our  life  for  the  last  few  months,  could  realize  the  dtdight 
with  which  at  last  we  lookeil  down  upon  it.  At  the  distance  of  apparently 
thirty  miles  beyond  us  wer'j  distinguished  s[)ot  .  of  pi'airie  ;  and  a  dirk 
line,  which  coidd  be  traced  with  tht-  glass,  was  imagined  to  be  the  cnurse 
nl  the;  river ;  but  we  were  evidently  at  a  great  height  alo\e  the-  valh;}-,  and 
ht-tween  us  and  the  plains  extended  miles  of  snowy  tlelds,  and  broken  ridgis 
ot  |)ine-covered  moimtains. 

It  was  laic  in  the  day  when  we  turned  t  >w\ard  the  camp  :  and  it  gr^w 
rapidly  cold  as  it  drew  toward  night.  On*-  of  the  men,  I'allon,  liecame 
'  ti.sjiicd.  ami  his  feet  began  to  h'ei'ze,  and  l)ui1ding  a  fin-  in  the  trunk  oi 
•  i.lr\  old  (■(■(lar,  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  remained  with  him  until   his  clothes  could 


d.,iii 


'^'!' 


8  I 


i  I  ^' 


ill  "I 


r' !! 


II  ii-.  -i'ii 


I' 


334 


MEMOIRS  OF  A/y  [.ll'T^—JOUX  CHARLES  ERF.MOXT. 


be  dried,  and  he  was  in  a  condition  to  come  on.  After  a  day's  march  of 
twenty  miles,  we  straggled  into  camp,  one  after  another,  at  niolutall ;  tin; 
greater  number  excessively  fatigued,  only  two  of  the  party  haviiur  ever 
travelled  on  snow-shoes  before. 

All  our  energies  were  now  directed  to  getting  our  animals  across  the 
snow  ;  and  it  was  supposed  that,  after  all  the  baggage  had  bec.'ii  drawn 
with  the  sleighs  over  the  trail  we  had  made,  it  would  be  sufficicntlv  hard 
to  bear  our  animals.  At  several  places  between  this  point  and  the  rithrc 
we  had  discovered  some  grassy  spots,  where  the  wind  and  sun  had  dis- 
persed the  snow  from  the  sides  of  the  hills,  and  these  were  to  form  resting 
places  to  support  the  animals  for  a  night  in  their  passage  across.  On  i  ur 
way  across  we  had  set  on  fire  several  broken  stumps,  and  dried  tree ,,  to 
melt  holes  in  the  snow  for  the  camps.  Its  general  depth  was  {\\v  feet; 
but  we  passed  over  places  where  it  was  twenty  feet  deep,  as  slu)\vn  'iv  the 
trees. 

With  one  part)-  itiawing  sleighs  loaded  with  baggage,  I  advanced  to- 
da\-  about  four  mil(,'s  along  th(;  trail,  and  encamped  at  the  first  grassy  s|jot 
where  we  expected  to  bring  our  horses.  Mr.  b'itzpatrick,  wiih  anothir 
party,  remained  behiiul,  to  form  an  intermediate  station  betwci'ii  us  and 
the  animals. 

February  8///.  The  night  IkuI  been  extremely  cold  but  perfectly  still 
and  beautifully  clear.  i}cfor(>  the  sun  ai^peared  this  morning  tin'  thi.-r- 
mometer  was  3  below  zero  ;  \  higher,  when  his  ra)s  struck  the  Kiftv 
peaks  :  anil  (1'  when  they  reached  our  camp. 

Scener\  and  weather  combined,  must  render  these  mountains  lieautil'iil 
in  summer  ;  the  purity  and  deep-blue  color  of  the  sky  are  singularly  beau- 
tiful ;  the  days  are  sunin-  and  bright,  and  even  warm  in  the  noon  hours; 
and  if  we  couUl  be  free  from  the  many  anxieties  that  oppress  us,  even  now 
we  would  be  delighted  here  ;  but  our  provisions  are  getting  fearfullv  scant. 
Sleighs  arrived  with  baggage  about  ten  o'clock  ;  and  leaving  a  portion  of 
it  here,  we  continued  on  for  a  mile  and  a  half,  and  encamped  at  the  foot  of 
a  long  hill  on  this  side  of  the  o[)(mv  bottom. 

Hernier  and  Godey,  who  yesterday  morning  had  been  sent  to  ascend  a 
higher  peak,  got  in,  hungry  and  fatigued.  They  confirmed  what  we  had 
already  seen.  Two  other  sleighs  arriveil  in  the  afternoon  ;  and  the  nun 
being  fatigued,  1  gave  them  all  tea  and  sugar.  Snow-clouds  bc^gan  to  rise 
in  the  s()uth-st)uthw(!st ;  and,  apprehensive  of  a  storm,  wdiich  wmild  destroy 
our  road,  1  sent  the  people  back  to  Mr.  iMtzpatrick,  with  direction-- to  seiul 
for  the  animals  in  the  morning.  With  nu;  remained  Mr.  Preuss,  Mr.  Tai- 
bdt.  and  Carson,  with   |atob. 

Elevation  ot   the   caiu[),  by   the   boiling-point,  is  seven  thousand  nin^ 
hundred  and  twenty  feet, 


SECOXn  /.XPED/TION—f  BFJ.OW  /.RRO   TOP  SIERRA   NFAADA.     335 

Fcbriiary  c)th. — During  the  night  the  weather  changed,  the  wind  rising 
to  a  f^'ile,  and  commencing  to  snow  before  dayUght ;  before  morning  the 
trail  was  covered.  We  remained  quiet  in  camp  all  day,  ia  the  course  of 
wiiich  ihc  weather  improved.     l'"our  sleighs  arrived  toward  evening,  with 


the 


bedding  of  the  men.  We  suffer  much  from  the  want  of  salt ;  and  all 
the  men  ire  becoming  weak  from  insufficient  food. 

February  \oth. — Taplin  was  sent  back  wdth  a  few  men  to  assist  Mr. 
I'it/patrick ;  and  continuing  on  with  three  sleighs  carrying  a  part  of  the 
ha"'"ai^e,  wc  had  the  satisfaction  to  encamp  within  two  and  a  half  miles 
(if  the  head  of  the  hollow,  and  at  the  foot  of  the  last  mountain  ridge.  Here 
two  lar^e  trees  had  been  set  on  fire,  and  in  the  holes,  where  the  snow  had 
Ijicn  incited  away,  we  found  a  comfortable  camp. 

Tile  wind  ke[)t  the  air  filled  with  snow  during  the  day  ;  the  sky  was 
vd'v  ilark  in  the  southwest,  though  elsewhere  very  clear.  The  forest  here 
iia-;  a  noble  appearance  :  the  tall  cedar  is  abundant ;  its  greatest  height 
liciiv^-  (ine  hundred  and  thirty  feet,  and  circumference  twenty,  three  or  four 
ftut  above  the  ground  ;  and  lu;re  I  see  for  the  first  time  the  white  [)ine,  of 
v.iiich  there  are  some  magnificent  trees.  Hemlock  spruce  is  among  the 
•Jmher,  occasionally  as  large  as  eight  feet  in  diameter  four  feet  above  the 
-iouikI;  luit,  in  ascending,  it  tapers  rapidly  to  less  than  one  foot  at  the 
hi'ii^ht  of  eightv  feet.  I  have  not  seen  any  higher  than  one  hundred  and 
thirty  feet,  and  the  slight  upper  part  is  frequently  broken  off  by  the  vrind. 
Tin:  wiiite  spruce  is  frequent;  and  the  r(;d  \m\ii  {J'i/ius  ro/orndo  oi'  the 
Mcxic'.ns)  which  constitutes  the  beautifiil  forest  along  the  flanks  of  the 
Sierra  Nevada  to  the  northwar(.l,  is  here  the  ])rincipal  tree,  not  attaining  a 
.greater  height  thar.  one  hundred  and  forty  feet,  though  with  sometimes  a 
liiameter  of  ten.  Most  of  these  trees  appeared  to  differ  slightly  from  those 
of  the  same  kind  on  the  other  side  of  the  continent. 

The  elevation  of  the  camp,  by  the  boiling-point,  is  eight  thousand  and 
lifiv  leet.  We  arc;  now  one  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  South 
Pass  in  the  Rocky  Mountains  ;  and  still  we  are  not  done  ascending.  The 
topofallat  ridge  near  was  bare  of  snow,  and  very  well  sprinkled  with 
iiiinch  L;rass,  sufficient  to  pastun;  the  animals  two  or  three  days  ;  and  this 
ivas  to  be  tlunr  main  point  of  support.  This  ridge  is  composed  of  a  com- 
pact trap,  or  basalt,  of  a  cohunnar  structure  ;  over  the  surface  are  scattered 
hri^e  boulders  of  porous  trap.  The  hills  are  in  many  places  entirely  cov- 
ueil  with  small  fragments  of  volcanic  rock. 

I'uttiiiL;  on  (Hir  snow-shoes,  we  spent  th(;  afternoon  in  exploring  a  roatl 
head,  rile  glare  of  the  snow,  combinetl  with  great  fatigue,  had  rendered 
"miiiy  of  the  peoi)le  nearly  blind  ;  but  we  were  fortunate  in  having  some 
Hack  silk  handkerchiefs,  which,  worn  as  veils,  very  much  relieved  the 
<:ves. 


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February  i  \th.  -High  wind  continued,  and  our  trail  this  niorniiv  was 
n(!arly  invisil)lc—  here  and  then;  indicated  by  a  Httle  ridge  of  snow.  Our 
situation  became  tiresome  and  dreary,  reciuiring  a  strong  exercise  of  pa- 
tience ami  resolution. 

In  the  evening  I  received  a  m(;ssag(!  from  Mr.  I'itzpatrick,  acfiuaintiiV'- 
me  with  the'  utter  laihu'*;  of  his  attempt  to  get  our  mules  and  horses  o\(r 
the  snow  -the  hall-hidden  trail  had  proved  entirely  too  slight  to  supiKirt 
them,  and  they  had  broken  through,  and  were  plunging  about  or  Iviii' 
half-buried  in  snow.  He  was  occupied  in  end(;avoring  to  get  tin  ni  hark 
to  his  camp  ;  ami  in  the  meantiuK;  sent  to  .ne  for  further  iustrurtions.  1 
wrote  to  him  to  send  tlu;  animals  immediately  back  to  their  old  [lasturrs; 
and,  after  having  made  mauls  and  shovels,  turn  in  all  th(!  strength  of  Im 
party  to  open  and  beat  a  road  through  the  snow,  strengtluniing  it  with 
branches  and  boughs  of  the  pines. 

I'\-hniary  i  2///.-  -We  made  mauls,  and  worked  hard  at  our  end  of  tin- 
road  all  the  day.  The  wind  was  high,  but  the  sun  bright,  and  the  siv.)w 
thawing.  We  worked  down  the  face  of  the  hill,  to  meet  the  pt.'opic  at  tli' 
other  end.  J'oward  sundown  it  began  to  grow  cold,  and  we  shoulderi' ! 
our  mauls,  and  trudgetl  back  to  camp. 

I''cbniary  1  3///.-  We  continuetl  to  labor  on  the  road  ;  and  in  the  couim- 
of  the  day  had  the  satisfaction  to  sec  the  people  working  down  the  facu  '.i 
the  opposite  hill,  about  three  miles  distant.  During  the  morning  wc  IkuI 
the  pleasure  of  a  visit  from  Mr.  i'ltzj^atrick,  with  the  information  that  ail 
was  going  on  well.  A  party  of  Indians  had  passed  on  snow-shoes,  whn 
said  they  were  going  to  the  western  side  of  the  mountain  after  fish.  Tim 
was  an  indication  that  the  salmon  were  coming  up  the  streams :  and  wr 
could  hardly  restrain  our  impatience  as  we  thought  of  them,  and  workcii 
with  increased  vigor. 

The  meat  train  did  not  arrive  this  evening,  anil  1  gave  Ciodcy  Icavu  to 
kill  our  little  dog  (Tlamath)  which  he  pre[)ared  in  Indian  fashion —scorch- 
ing off  the  hair,  and  washing  the  skin  with  soap  and  snow,  and  then  cutting; 
it  up  into  pieces,  which  were  laid  on  the  snow.  liiiortly  afterward  the 
sleigh  arrived  with  a  supply  of  horse  meat;  and  we  had  to-night  an  I'xir.i- 
ordinary  dinner  -pea-soup,  mule,  and  dog. 

February  14///.  -Opposite  is  given  a  view  of  the  dividing  ridge  of  th'.' 
.Sierra,  taken  from  this  encampment.  With  Mr.  Prcuss,  I  ascended  to-day  th'' 
high(!st  peak  to  the  right ;  from  which  we  had  a  beautiful  view  ol  a  moun- 
tain lake  at  our  feet,  about  fifteen  miles  in  length,  and  so  entirely  surnniiuh'il 
by  mountains  that  \\v.  could  not  discover  an  outlet.  We  had  taken  with 
us  a  glass  ;  bill,  though  we  enjoyed  an  I'Xtended  vi(;\v,  the  valley  was  hail 
hitlden  in  mist,  as  when  we  had  seen  it  before.  Snow  could  be  distinguished 
on  the  highca-  parts  of  the   coast   mountains  ;   eastward,  as  far  as  the  eye 


rninj,'  was 
ow.  Our 
:ise  of  jjii- 

MluaintiiiL^ 
orscs  ovtr 
to  supiion 
11  or  ly'ul,^ 
ihcni  liai'k 
Lictions.  1 
I  pastun-s : 
iL;-th  of  his 
ing  it  with 

end  of  ihf 
i\  tlie  snow 
•.o\)\v.  at  thr 

shoulik'rc  . 

I  th<;  courM- 
the  fatr  111 
linj;'  wt;  ha«l 
tioii  that  a'il 
-shoes,  v.hii 
fish.  Thi- 
ns ;  and  w 
and  worki'-. 

dcv  If^avi;  I" 
Ion  -scorch- 
lihcn  ciittin,^ 
|ti:r\vard  tlv; 
Iht  an  rxUM- 

lidire  of  dv 
Id  to-day  tlv- 
of  a  nior.!:- 
surround'; 
|1  tal<on  wii^-: 
[cy  was  hai; 
lislin.^uidic'.: 
Ir  a-,  the  eye 


sixv  n  /•x/'F/yyvoy—ArENC :  ri:.i-'<ori\  mule  .wn  doc     ,,; 

could  cxttMid,  it  ran.i^fid  over  a  terrible  mass  of  broken   snowy  mountains, 
fading  off  blue  in  the  distance. 

The  rock  composin;,r  \_\\c  simimit  consists  of  a  very  coarse  ilark  volcanic 
roii'domeratc ;  th<;  I  )w'i''  parts  apjjcarc-d  to  be  {^{  a  slaty  structure.  T'he 
highest  trei;s  were  a  few  scatterin;.,^  cedars  and  aspens.  I'Vom  the;  imme- 
diate foot  of  the  peak,  we  were  two  hours  in  reachins^  the  summit,  and 
(iiv  hour  and  a  ([iiart(;r  in  descending-.  The  day  had  been  very  bright, 
-Uil,  and  '•■'c-ar,  uid  s[)rin_ur  seems  to  be  advancini^''  rapidly.  While  the  sun 
is  in  the  sk'v .  th;-  snow  units  rapidly,  and  gushing''  .springs  cos'er  the  face 
of  the  aiounlain  in  all  the  e.xposed  places  ;  but  their  sui'faee  freezes  instantly 
with  the  disa|)pearance  of  the  sun. 

I  obtained  to-night  some  observations  ;  and  the  result  from  these,  and 
iilivrs  n;,ule  during  our  stay,  gives  for  the  latitude  38'  41'  57",  longitude 
120  2\   57".  iiiid  rate  of  the  chronometer  25.82". 

I'lliruary  16///.  —We  had  succeeded  in  getting  om*  animals  safely  to  the 
first  L,M-assy  hill  ;  and  this  morning  I  started  with  Jacob  on  a  reconnoitring 
expedition  beyond  the  mountain.  We  travelled  along  the  crests  of  narrow 
ri(.l.;i"s,  extending  down  from  the  mountain  in  the  direction  of  the  \alley, 
fr.iin  which  the  snow  was  fast  melting  away.  On  the  open  spots  was  tol- 
i-rahly  gooil  grass  ;  and  I  judged  we  should  succeed  in  getting  the  camp 
iloun  by  way  of  these.  'I'oward  sundown  we  discovered  some  icy  sjjots 
in  a  deep  hollow;  and,  descending  the  mountain,  we  encamped  on  the 
lii-ad-water  of  a  little  creek,  where  at  last  the  water  found  its  way  to 
the  Pacit'ic. 

The  night  was  clear  and  very  long.  ■  We  heard  the  cries  of  some  wild 
animals,  which  hatl  been  attracted  by  our  fire,  and  a  (lock  of  geese  passed 
over  during  the  night.  lCv<;n  these  strangt?  somuls  had  something  pleasant 
to  our  senses  in  this  region  of  silence  ami  desolation. 

We  started  again  early  in  the  morning.  The  creek  accpiired  a  regidar 
breadth  of  about  twenty  feet,  and  we  soon  began  to  hear  the  rushing  of  the 
water  below  the  icy  surface,  over  which  we  travelled  to  avoid  the  snow  ;  a 
\i\\x  miles  below  we  broke  through,  wlutre  the  water  was  several  feet  deep, 
and  halted  to  make  a  lu'i;  and  dry  our  clothes.  We  continued  a  few  miles 
ii'-thcr,  walking  being  very  laborious  without  snow-shoes. 

I  was  now  perfectly  satisfied  that  we  had  struck  the  stream  on  which 
Mr.  .Sutter  lived  ;  and,  turning  about,  matle  a  hard  push  and  reached  the 
cani))  at  dark.  1  lere  we  hatl  the  pl(\asm-e  to  fmd  all  the  remaining  animals, 
litty-seven  in  number,  safely  arrived  at  the  grassy  hill  near  the  camp  ;  and 
lure,  also,  we  \v(M-e  agreeably  sm-prisetl  with  the  sight  of  an  abimdance  of 
•-alt.  Some;  of  the  horse-guard  had  gone  to  a  neighboring  hut  fi  ••  pine 
"'Its,  ami  iliscovered  une.\])ectedly  a  large  cake  of  very  wdiite,  fine-grained 
^ilt,  which  the  hidians  told  them  they  luul  brought  from  the  other  side  of 


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Sdences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  M580 

(716)  873-4503 


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338 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


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the  mountain  ;  they  used  it  to  eat  with  their  pine  nuts,  and  readily  solu  it 
for  goods. 

On  the  19th,  the  people  were  occupied  in  making  a  road  and  brini^inir 
up  the  baggage  ;  and,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day,  Fcbrnaiy^o,,  iSii 
we  encamped  with  the  animals  and  all  the  materiel  of  the  camp,  on  the 
summit  of  the  Pass  in  the  dividing  ridge,  one  thousand  miles  by  our  travelled 
road  from  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia. 

The  people,  who  had  not  yet  been  to  this  point,  climbed  the  nei^dihor- 
ing  peak  to  enjoy  a  look  at  the  valley. 

The  temperature  of  boiling  water  gave  for  the  elevation  of  the  encamp 
ment  nine  thousand  three  hundred  and  thirty-eight  feet  above  the  sea. 

This  was  two  thousand  feet  higher  than  the  South  Pass  in  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  and  several  peaks  in  view  rose  several  thousand  fet't  still  hitrher. 
Thus,  at  the  extremity  of  the  continent,  and  near  the  coast,  the  phenomenon 
was  seen  of  a  range  of  mountains  still  higher  than  the  great  Rockv  Moun- 
tains themselves.  This  extraordinary  fact  accounts  for  the  Great  Basin. 
and  shows  that  there  must  be  a  system  of  small  lakes  and  rivers  here  scat 
tered  over  a  flat  country,  and  which  the  extended  and  lofty  rani^a-  of  tin 
Sierra  Nevada  prevents  from  escaping  to  the  Pacific  Ocean.  Latitude  3'^' 
44.' :   longitude  1  20    28'. 

Thus  this  Pass  in  the  Sierra  Nevada,  which  so  well  deserves  its  naun 
of  Snowy  Mountain,  is  eleven  degrees  west,  and  about  four  degrees  south 
of  the  South  Pass. 

February  2\st. — We  now  considered  ourselves  victorious  over  the  mown 
tain  ;  having  only  the  descent  before  us,  and  the  valley  under  our  eyes,  wc 
felt  strong  hope  that  we  should  force  our  way  down.  But  this  was  a  cast; 
in  which  the  descent  was  not  facile.  Still  deep  fields  of  snow  lay  lietween, 
and  there  was  a  large  intervening  space  of  rough-looking  mountains, 
through  which  we  had  yet  to  wind  our  way. 

Carson  roused  me  this  morning  with  an  early  fire,  and  we  were  all  up 
long  before  day,  in  order  to  pass  the  snow-fields  before  the  sun  shouM 
render  the  crust  soft.  We  enjoyed  this  morning  a  scene  at  sunrise,  which 
even  here  was  unusually  glorious  and  beautiful. 

Immediately  above  the  eastern  mountains  was  repeated  a  i  loud-lornioi! 
mass  of  purple  ranges,  bordc^red  with  bright  yellow  gold  ;  the  peaks  shot 
up  into  a  narrow  line  of  crimson  cloud,  above  which  the  air  was  filled  uini 
a  greenish  orange  ;  and  over  all  was  the  singular  beauty  of  the  blue  sky. 

Passing  along  a  ridge  which  commanded  the  lake  on  our  right,  ot  which 
we  began  to  discover  an  outlet  through  a  chasm  on  the  west,  we  passed 
over  alternating  opntn  ground  and  hanl-crusted  snow- fields  which  supportol 
the  animals,  and  encamped  on  the  riilge  after  a  journey  of  si\  miles.  Fh.' 
grass  was  better  than  we  had  yet  seen,  and  we  were  encamped  in  a  clump 


iclily  sold  it 

lid  bringinj,' 
try  20.  1844, 
imp,  on  the 
)ur  travelled 

ic;  nci<j;hl)or- 

th(;  eiicaniii' 
the  s(ta. 
I  lh(^  Rocky 
t  still  higher. 
pluMioiiKMion 
Locky  Moun- 
Cireat  Basin, 
;rs  here  scat- 
range  ot  thi- 
l.alitudc  38' 

'ves  its  namt 
.egrees  soiitii 

'erthe  moun- 
our  eyes,  we 
is  was  a  ciis'' 
ay  between, 
mountain^ 

were  all  up 

sun  sluHiM 

sunrise,  which 


eio 


ic 


ud-formed 

peaks  shot 

as  tilled  with 

the  blue  sky, 

iM-JU.ot' which 

t,  we  pas-itid 

ich  supportO'l 

miles.     Th'; 

ed  in  a  clump 


m 


!^!i'fil' 


lilt 


I  .! 


iBl 


1 


!  li 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— PROSPECTS  BRIGHTENING. 


339 


of  trees  twenty  or  thirty  feet  high,  resembling  white  pine.  With  the  ex- 
ception of  these  small  clumps,  the  ridges  were  bare ;  and,  where  the  snow 
louiid  the  support  of  the  trees,  the  wind  had  blown  it  up  into  banks  ten  or 
lifteen  fi^et  hi_<,di.  It  required  much  care  to  hunt  out  a  practicable  way,  as 
the  most  open  places  frequently  led  to  impassable  banks. 

We  had  hard  and  doubtful  labor  yet  before  us,  as  the  snow  appeared  to 
he  heavier  where  the  timber  began  farther  down,  with  few  open  spots. 
Iscendint,'^  a  height,  we  traced  out  the  best  line  we  could  discover  for  the 
next  day's  march,  and  had  at  least  the  consolation  to  see  that  the  mountain 
at^cended  rapidly.  The  day  had  been  one  of  April ;  gusty,  with  a  few 
occasional  flakes  of  snow%  which,  in  the  afternoon,  enveloped  the  upper 
:noiintain  in  clouds.  We  watched  them  anxiously,  as  now  we  dreaded  a 
^now-storin. 

Shortly  afterward  we  heard  the  roll  of  thunder,  and,  looking  toward 
tile  valley,  found  it  all  enveloped  in  a  thunder-storm.  For  us,  as  connected 
with  the  idea  of  summer,  it  had  a  singular  charm  ;  and  we  watched  its  prog- 
ress witii  excited  feelings  until  nearly  sunset,  when  the  sky  cleared  off 
ijii^ditlv,  and  we  saw  a  shining  line  of  water  directing  its  course  toward 
another,  a  broader  and  larger  sheet.  We  knew  that  these  could  be  no 
liiier  than  the  Sacramento  and  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco ;  but,  after  our 
!)!!:,'  wanderinL;-  in  rugged  mountains,  where  so  frequently  we  had  met  with 
li>;i!)pointments,  and  where  the  crossing  of  every  ridge  displayed  some  un- 
known lake  or  river,  we  were  yet  almost  afraid  to  believe  that  we  were  at 
hist  to  escape  into  the  genial  country  of  which  we  had  heard  so  many  glow 
in<,'  descriptions,  and  dreaded  again  to  find  some  vast  interior  lake,  whose 
Wtter  waters  would  bring  us  disappointment.  On  the  southern  shore  of 
whit  appeared  to  be  the  bay,  could  be  traced  the  gleaming  line  where 
f  itered  another  large  stream  ;  and  again  the  IJuenaventura  rose  up  in  our 
minds. 

Carson  had  entered  the  valley  along  the  southern  side  of  the  bay,  and 
remembered  perfectly  to  have  crossed  the  mouth  of  a  very  large  stream, 
'vhich  they  had  been  obliged  to  raft ;  but  the  country  then  was  so  entirely 
covered  with  water  from  snow  and  rain,  that  he  had  been  able  to  form  no 
correct  impression  of  water-courses. 

Wi;  had  tile  satisfaction  to  know  that  at  least  there  were  people  below. 
1' ires  were  lit  up  in  the  valley  just  at  night,  appearing  to  be  in  answer  to 
iHirs:  and  these  signs  of  life  renewed,  in  some  measure,  the  gayety  of  the 
camp.  They  a[)peared  so  near,  that  we  judged  them  to  be  among  the  tim- 
iier  of  some  of  the  neighboring  ridges  ;  but,  having  them  constantly  in  view, 
liy  after  day,  and  night  after  night,  we  afterward  found  them  to  be  fires 
!'i.ithad  b(;en  kindled  by  the  Indians  among  the  tuhires,  on  the  shore  of 
tile  bay,  eighty  miles  distant. 


I! 


t  i"  mm 


'HI 

■wll 

t^ 

^t^^^UH 

11   .  -' 

It^^^^^H 

w 

ii^Hi,<^8 

'.  !  ■ 

^m^HHH 

f  :i 

IH^B 

JBB 

\k 

fln 

^  '  ^* 

^n 

!;J 

I^^B 

i  i' wt^^^^ii 

iim^^^H 

'U 

■1 

1^  I 


340 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  IJFE—JOHN  CHARLES  EKEMOXT. 


M 


%^  t 


Among  the  very  few  plants  that  appeared  here,  was  the  common  Iiluo 
flax.     To-night  a  mule  was  killed  for  food. 

February  22d. — Our  breakfast  was  over  long  before  clay.  \\V'  took 
advantage  of  the  coolness  of  the  early  morning  to  get  over  the  snow 
wliich  to-day  occurred  in  very  dec;p  banks  among  the  timber ;  but  we 
searched  out  the  coldest  places,  and  the  animals  passed  successfully  with 
their  loads  the  hard  crust.  Now  and  then  the  delay  of  niakin<r  a  ruad 
occasioned  much  labor  and  loss  of  time. 

In  the  after  part  of  the  day  we  saw  before  us  a  handsome  grassy  rid. re- 
point ;  and,  making  a  desperate  push  over  a  snow-field  ten  to  fifteen  feet 
deep,  we  happily  succeeded  in  getting  the  camp  across  ;  and  encamped  on 
the  ridge,  after  a  march  of  three  miles.  We  had  again  the  prospect  of  a 
thunder-storm  below  ;  and  to-night  we  killed  another  mule — now  our  only 
resource  from  starvation. 

We  satisfied  ourselves  during  the  day  that  the  lak(>-had  an  oudet  be- 
tween two  ranges  on  the  right ;  and  with  this,  the  creek  on  which  1  had 
encamped,  probably  effected  a  junction  below.  Between  these,  we  were 
descending. 

We  continued  to  enjoy  the  same  delightful  weather  ;  the  sky  of  the 
same  beautiful  blue,  and  such  a  sunset  and  sunrise  as  on  our  Atlantic  coast 
we  could  scarcely  imagine.  And  here  among  the  mountains,  nine  thou- 
sand feet  above  the  sea,  we  have  the  deep-blue  sky  and  sunny  climate  of 
Smyrna  and  Palermo,  which  a  little  map  before  me  shows  are  in  the  same 
latitude. 

The  elevation  above  the  sea,  by  the  boiling-jjoint,  is  eiglit  thousand 
five  hundred  and  sixty-five  feet. 

February  23^/. — This  was  our  most  difficult  da)'  :  we  were  forced  off 
the  ridges  by  the  quantity  of  snow  among  the  timber,  and  obliged  to  take 
to  the  mountain-sides,  where,  occasionally,  rocks  and  a  southern  exposure 
afforded  us  a  chance  to  scramble  along.  But  these  were  steep,  and  sHp- 
pery  with  snow  and  ice  ;  and  the  tough  evergreens  of  the  mountain  im- 
peded our  way,  tore  our  skins,  and  exhausted  our  patience.  Some  ol  u^ 
had  the  misfortune  to  wear  moccasins  \\it\\  pa r/lvc/ic  soles,  so  slippery  that 
we  could  not  keep  our  feet,  and  generally  crawled  across  the  snow-beds. 

Axes  and  mauls  were  necessary  to-day  to  make  a  road  through  the 
snnw.  Going  ahead  with  Carson  to  reconnoitre  the  road,  we  reached  in 
the;  afternoon  the  river  which  made  the  outlet  of  the  lake.  Carson  spraii:^ 
over,  clear  across  a  place  where  the  stream  was  compressed  anioni,'^  rod^N 
but  the  parflcehe  sole  of  my  moccasin  glanced  from  the  icy  rock,  and  pn  ■ 
cipitated  me  into  the  river.  It  was  some  few  seconds  betorc  1  could  n- 
cover  myself  in  the  current,  and  Carson,  thinking  me  hurt,  jiim|)cd  in  alur 
me,  and  we  both  had  an  icy  bath.     We  tried  to  search  awhile  for  my  gu". 


111!/  a  roa'J 


si:co.yn  f.xped/twn—ajv  uni.ooked  for  icy  path.      341 

which  had  been  lost  in  the  fall,  but  the  cold  drove  us  out ;  and  making  a 
lan'c  fire  on  the  bank,  after  we  lad  partially  dried  ourselves  we  went  back 
to  meet  the  camp.  We  afterw^ixl  found  that  the  gun  had  been  slung  under 
the  ice  which  lined  the  banks  of  the  creek. 

L'sini'^  our  old  plan  of  breaking  the  road  with  alternate  horses,  we 
reached  the  creek  in  the  evening,  and  encamped  on  a  dry  open  place  in 
the  ravine. 

Another  branch,  which  we  had  followed,  here  comes  in  on  the  left ; 
,111(1  from  this  point  the  mountain-wall,  on  which  we  had  travelled  to-day, 
laces  to  the  south  along  the  right  bank  of  the  river,  where  the  sun  appears 
to  have  melted  the  snow  ;  but  the  ojiposite  ridge  is  entirely  covered. 
Here,  among  the  pines,  the  hill-side  produces  but  little  grass — barely  suffi- 
cient to  kee[)  life  in  the  animals.  We  had  the  pleasure  to  be  rained  upon 
this  afternoon  ;  and  grass  was  now  our  greatest  solicitude.  Many  of  the 
men  looked  badly,  and  some  this  evening  were  giving  out. 

February  2\tli. — We  rose  at  three  in  the  morning,  for  an  astronomical 
observation,  and  obtained  for  the  place  a  latitude  of  38  46'  58  '  ;  longitude 
1:0  34  20  .  The  sky  was  clear  and  pure,  with  a  sharp  wind  from  the? 
northeast,  and  the  thermometer  2'  below  the  freezing-point. 

We  continued  down  the  south  face  of  the  mountain  :  our  road  leading 
liver  dry  ground,  we  were  able  to  avoid  the  snow  almost  entirely.  In  the 
course  of  the  morning  we  struck  a  footpath,  which  we  were  generally  able 
to  keep;  and  the  ground  was  soft  to  our  animals'  feet,  being  sandy  or 
overetl  with  mould.  Green  grass  began  to  make  its  appearance,  and  oc- 
casionally we  passed  a  hill  scatteringly  covered  with  it. 

The  character  of  the  forest  continued  the  same  ;  and  among  the  trees, 
die  pine  with  short  leaves  and  very  large  cones  was  abundant,  some  of 
them  being  noble  trees.  W^e  measured  one  that  had  ten  feet  diameter, 
though  the  height  was  not  more  than  one  hundred  and  thirty  feet.  All 
aloii<r  the  river  was  a  roaring  torrent,  its  fall  very  great ;  and  descending 
with  a  rapidity  to  which  we  had  long  been  strangers  ;  to  our  great  pleasure 
oak  trees  appeared  on  the  ridge,  and  soon  became  very  frequent ;  on  these 
1  remarked  imusually  great  quantities  of  mistletoe.  Rushes  began  to  make 
tlieir  appearance  ;  and  at  a  small  creek  where  they  were  abundant,  one  of 
the  messes  w-as  left  with  the  weakest  horses,  while  we  continued  on. 

The  opposite  mountain-side  was  very  steep  and  continuous — unbroken 
by  ravines,  and  covered  with  pines  and  snow  ;  while  on  the  side  we  were 
travelling,  innumerable  rivulets  poured  down  from  the  ridge.  Continuing 
"'II.  wc  halted  a  moment  at  one  of  these  rivulets,  to  admire  some  beautiful 
wrgreen  trees,  resembling  live-oak,  which  shaded  the  little  stream. 
iliey  were  forty  to  fifty  feet  high,  and  two  in  diameter,  with  a  uniform 
tulted  top ;  and  the  summer  green  of  their  beautiful  foliage,  with  the  sing- 


^'■l-l»l 


i'c  Ft'"  1*"'  I     ;  ■■^-  1 


J;i;f 


mft' 


III   :M 

!  I.'  Si- 


■!    Ill 


!l':': 


i  ; 


1'   1 


I   q. 


Mi'  I 


Ill  I  ^ 


,U2 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFK-JOHX  CHARLES  I-RKMOX I'. 


iiig  birds,  and  the  sweet  summer  wind  which  was  whirUng  about  the  drv 
oak  leaves,  nearly  intoxicated  us  with  deii_L,dit  ;  and  we  hurried  on,  t'llL-ii 
witii  excitement,  to  escape  entirely  from  the  horrid  region  of  iiihosnitablc 
snow,  to  the  perpetual  spriny  of  the  Sacramento. 

When  we  had  travelled  about  ten  miles  the  valley  opened  a  little  to  a;i 
oak  and  pine  bottom,  through  which  ran  rivulets  closely  bordLTed  wit'r, 
rushes,  on  which  our  halt-starved  horses  fell  with  avidity  ;  and  here  w 
made  our  encampment.  Here  the  roaring  torrent  has  already  become  a 
river,  and  we  had  descended  to  an  elevation  of  three  thousar.d  ei/ht  hun- 
dred and  sixty-four  feet. 

Along  our  roail  to-day  tin;  rock  was  a  wdiite  granite,  which  appears  to 
constitute  the  up])er  part  of  the  mountains  on  both  the  eastern  ami  western 
slopes  ;    while  between,  the  central  is  a  volcanic  rock. 

Another  horse  was  killed  to-night,  for  food. 

Fehniary  2^th. — Believing  that  the  difficulties  of  the  road  were  passed, 
and  leaving  Mr.  I'itzpatrick  to  follow  slowly,  as  the  condition  of  the  ani- 
mals required,  I  started  ahead  this  morning  with  a  party  of  eiglit,  consist- 
ing (with  myself)  of  Mr.  I'reuss  and  Mr.  Talbot,  Carson,  Derosier,  ^oun^ 
Proue,  and  Jacob.  We  took  with  us  some  of  the  best  animals,  and  mv  in 
tention  was  to  proceed  as  rapidly  as  possible  to  the  house  of  Mr.  .Sutter, 
and  return  to  meet  the  party  with  a  supply  of  provisions  and  fresh  animal. 

Continuing  down  the  river,  which  pursued  a  very  direct  westerly  course 
through  a  narrow  valley,  with  only  a  very  slight  and  narrow  bottom-land, 
we  made  twelve  miles,  and  encamped  at  some  old  Indian  huts,  apparently 
a  fishing-place  on  the  river. 

The  bottom  was  covered  with  trees  of  deciduous  foliage,  and  over- 
grown with  vines  and  rushes.  On  a  bench  of  the  hill  near  by  was  a  tie!d 
of  fresh  green  grass,  six  inches  long  in  some  of  the  tufts,  which  I  had  til- 
curiosity  to  measure!.  The  animals  were  driven  here;  and  I  spent  partol 
the  afternoon  sitting  on  a  large  rock  among  them,  enjoying  the  pauselo'- 
rapidity  with  which  they  luxuriated  in  the  unaccustomed  food. 

The  forest  was  imposing  to-day  in  the  magnificence  of  the  trees  ;  sonv: 
of  the  pines,  bearing  large  cones,  were  t  n  feet  in  diameter ;  cedars  also 
abounded,  and  we  measured  one  twenty-eight  and  one-half  feet  in  circum- 
ference four  feet  from  the  ground.  This  noble  tree  seemed  here  to  be  in 
its  proper  soil  and  climate.  We  found  it  on  both  sides  of  the  Sierra,  1'  : 
most  abundant  on    the  west. 

February  26th. — We  continued  to  follow  the  stream,  the  mountains  or. 
either  hand  increasing  in  height  as  we  descended,  and  shutting  up  the  riv-r 
narrowly  in  precipices,  along  which  we  had  great  dit'ficulty  to  get  0;;: 
horses. 

It  rained  heavily  during  the  afternoon,  and  we  were  forced  otf  the  nver 


bottom-laiii-l, 


SECOND  EXPEDfTION—MULE  SOUP. 


343 


to  the  heights  above  ;  whence  we  descended,  at  nightfall,  the  point  of  a 
spur  between  the  river  and  a  fork  of  nearly  e(iual  size,  coming  in  from  the 
ri  rht.  Here  we  saw,  on  the  lower  hills,  the  first  llowers  in  bloom,  which 
Incurred  suddenly,  and  in  considerable  ({uantity  ;  one  of  ihem  a  species  of 

Tlie  (.urrent  in  both  streams  (rather  torrents  than  rivers)  was  broken  by 

ir'^c  Ixjulilcrs.      It  was  late,  and  the  animals  fatigued  ;  and  not  succeeding 

;,i  liiid  a  loril  immediately,  we  encamped,  although  the  hill-side  afforded 

iiut  a  few  stray  bunches  of  grass,  and  the  horses,  standing  about  in  the 

rain,  looked  very  miserable. 

filiruaiv  2"] tit. — We  succeeded  in  fording  the  stream,  and  made  a  trail 
b\  which  wc  crossed  the  point  of  the  opposite  hill,  which,  on  the  southern 
exposure,  was  prettily  covered  with  green  grass,  and  we  haltetl  a  mile  from 
our  last  encampment.  The  river  was  only  about  sixty  feet  wide,  but  rapid. 
and  occasionally  deep,  foaming  among  boulders,  and  the  water  beautifully 
iltar.  We'  encamped  on  the  hill-slope,  as  there  was  no  bottom  level,  and 
the  opposite  ridge  is  continuous,  affording  no  streams. 

We  had  with  us  a  large  kettle  ;  and  a  mule  being  killed  here,  his  heatl 
was  boiled  in  it  for  several  hours,  and  made  a  passable  soup  for  famished 
people. 

Below,  precipices  on  the  river  forced  us  to  the  heights,  which  we  as- 
cended by  a  steep  spur,  two  thousand  feet  high.  My  favorite  horse,  Pro- 
veau,  had  become  very  weak,  and  was  scarcely  able  to  bring  himself  to  the 
top.  Travelling  here  was  good,  except  in  crossing  the  ravint's,  which  were 
narrow,  steep,  and  frequent.  We  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  deer,  the  first  ani- 
mal we  had  seen  ;  but  did  not  succeed  in  approaching  him.  Proveau  could 
not  keep  u(),  and  I  left  Jacob  to  bring  him  on,  being  obliged  to  press  for- 
ward with  the  party,  as  there  was  no  grass  in  the  forest.  We  grew  very 
anxious  as  the  day  advanced  and  no  grass  appeared,  for  the  lives  of  our 
animals  depended  on  finding  it  to-night.  They  were  in  just  such  a  condi- 
tion that  grass  and  repose  for  the  night  enabled  them  to  get  on  the  next 
lay.  hvcry  hour  we  had  been  expecting  to  see  open  out  before  us  the 
'alley,  which,  from  the  mountain  above,  seemed  almost  at  our  feet. 

.\  new  and  singular  shrub,  which  had  made  its  appearance  since  cross- 
ing the  mountain,  was  very  frecpient  to-day.  It  branched  out  near  the 
^Tound,  forming  a  clump  eight  to  ten  feet  high,  with  pale-green  leaves  of 
an  oval  form  ;  and  the  body  and  branches  hail  a  naked  appearance,  as  if 
stripped  of  the  bark,  which  is  very  smooth  and  thin,  of  a  chocolate  color, 
contrasting  well  with  the  pale-green  of  the  leaves.  The  day  was  nearly 
,<one:  we  had  made  a  hard  day's  march  and  found  no  grass.  Towns  be- 
came light-headed,  wandering  off  into  the  woods  without  knowing  where 
lie  was  going,  and  lacob  brouy-ht  him  back. 


liii:' 


m 


'  H 

n 

\  ijHl 

1;  ||fl| 

1^ 

*r 


ii 


hi 


'!  '(51;. 


■■■!  ■'■ 


'  'M '11 

^j^ 

^'^'Mf™Bu 

■jilif 

iSli?;? 


\      i'      ■ 

i. 

<'i 

I V 

J 

u  r  ^  ■ 

■a 

n  ^  : 

Hi; 

ii;      ! 

1 

it  I 


ri 


ih   ;     ^\^:P 


344 


MF..\fO/RS  OF  AfV  I.III.JOJIX  CHARLES  FR/-:M0\ /'. 


Near  nij^lufall  we  descciuled  into  the  steep  ravine  of  a  handsome  creek 
thirty  feet  wide,  and  I  was  enj^aged  in  getting  the  horses  up  the  opposite 
hill,  when  I  heard  a  shout  froin  C'arson,  who  had  gone  ahead  a  {{^.w  lum. 
dred  yards  -"  Life  yet,"  saiil  he  as  he,  cann;  up,  "  life  yet  ;  I  h;i\x:  tound  a 
iiill-sitle  sprinkled  with  grass  enough  for  the  night."  W'edroxt'  aluii"  inir 
horses,  and  encamped  at  the  place  about  dark,  and  thert^  was  just  nxim 
enough  to  make  a  jjlace  for  shelter  on  tlu;  edge  of  the  stream.  Thrcf 
horses  were  lost  to-day — I'roveau ;  a  fme  )t)ung  horse  from  the  Coiuniliia 
belonging  to  Charles  Towns  ;  aiul  another  Indian  horse  which  carried  dur 
cooking  utensils;  the  two  former  gave  out,  and  the  latter  strajed  off  into 
the  woods  as  we  reached  the  camp. 

Fcbruayy  29///.  -We  lay  shut  up  in  the  narrow  ravine,  and  gave  the  ani- 
mals a  necessary  day;  and  me-n  werc^scMit  back  after  the  others.  Derosier 
volunteered  to  bring  up  Proveau,  to  whom  he  knew  I  was  greatly  attacheil, 
as  he  had  been  my  favorite  horse  on  both  e.xpeditions.  Carson  and  I 
climbed  one  of  the  nearest  mountains  ;  the  forest  land  still  extended  ahead. 
and  the  valley  appeared  as  far  as  ever.  The  pack-horse  was  found  near 
the  camp,  but  Derosier  diil  not  get  in. 

March  \st. — Derosier  (.lid  not  get  in  during  the  night,  and  leaving  him  to 
follow,  as  no  grass  remained  here,  we  continued  on  over  the  uplands,  cross 
ing  many  small  streams,  and  camped  again  on  the  river,  having  made  si.\ 
miles.  1  iere  we  found  the  hill-side  covered  (although  lightly)  with  fresh 
green  grass  ;  and  from  this  time  forward  we  found  it  alwa\'s  im[)rovin:^r  and 
abundant. 

\\'e  made  a  pleasant  camp  on  the  river  hill,  where  were  some  heautitiil 
specimens  of  the  chocolate-colored  shrub,  wdiich  were  a  foot  in  diameter 
near  'lie  ground,  and  fifteen  to  twenty  feet  high.  The  opposite  rid^criins 
continuously  along,  unbroken  by  streams.  We  are  rapidly  descending,'  into 
the  spring,  and  we  are  leaving  our  snowy  region  far  behind;  everythim^  is 
getting  green  ;  butterflies  are  swarming;  numerous  bugs  arecree[)iniyont, 
wakened  from  their  winter's  sleep  ;  and  the  forest  flowers  are  comint,'  into 
bloom.  Among  those  which  appeared  most  numerously  to-day  was  (/('(/'. 
cathcon  dentatinn. 

We  began  to  be  uneasy  at  Derosier's  ab.sencc,  fearing  ho  might  han 
been  bewildered  in  the  woods.  Charles  Towns,  who  had  not  yet  recov- 
ered his  mind,  went  to  swim  in  the  river,  as  if  it  were  summer  and  the 
stream  placid,  when  it  was  a  cold  mountain-torrent  foaming  anions:  rock^ 
We  were  happy  to  see  Derosier  appear  in  the  evening.  He  came  in,  ami, 
sitting  down  by  the  fire,  began  to  tell  us  where  he  had  been.  1  le  imai^^inci! 
he  had  been  gone  several  days,  and  thought  we  were  still  at  the  c;in)p 
where  he  had  left  us  ;  and  we  were  pained  to  see  that  his  mind  was  de- 
ranged.    It  appeared  that  he  had  been  lost  in  the  mountain,  and  hunifer 


SECOND  KXPEDITIOXSF.VKRR  SUFFERING. 


S45 


and  fatigue,  joined  to  weakness  of  body  and  fear  of  perishing  in  the  moun- 
tains, had  crazed  him.  The  times  were  severe  when  stout  men  lost  their 
miiuN  li'iin  extremity  of  suffering — when  horses  died — and  when  mules  and 
Iktsus,  n;idy  to  die  of  starvation,  were  killed  for  food.  Yet  there  was  no 
;:uinmiriiii;  or  hesitation. 

A  short  ilistance  below  our  encampment  the  river  mountains  terminated 
ill  nrucipices,  and,  after  a  fatiguing  march  of  only  a  few  miles,  we  encamped 
m  a  Ixiuh,  w hrrc  there  were  springs  and  an  abundance  of  the  freshest 
,'rass.  In  the  meantime,  Mr.  Preuss  continued  on  down  the  river,  and, 
unawan;  that  we  had  encamped  so  early  in  the  day,  was  lost.  When  night 
arrived,  and  he  did  not  come  in,  we  began  to  understand  what  had  hap- 
peneci  to  him  ;  but  it  was  too  late  to  make  any  search. 

Maii/i  ^-^d. — We  followed  Mr.  Preuss'  trail  for  a  considerable  distance 
aloii'f  the  river,  until  we  reached  a  place  where  he  had  descended  to  the 
stream  below  and  encamped.  Here  we  shouted  and  fired  guns,  but  re- 
ctived  no  answer  ;  and  we  concluded  that  he  had  pushed  on  down  the 
tnaiii.  I  determined  to  keep  out  from  the  river,  along  which  it  was 
r.i'arlv  impracticable  to  travel  with  animals,  until  it  should  form  a  valley. 

At  every  step  the  country  improved  in  beauty  ;  the  pines  were  rapidly 
liisappearing,  and  oaks  became  the  principal  trees  of  the  forest.  Among 
dicse  the  prevailing  tree  was  the  evergreen  oak  (which,  by  way  of  distinc- 
tion, we  shall  call  the  live-oak)  ;  and  with  these  occurred  frequently  a  new 
species  of  oak,  bearing  a  long  slender  acorn  from  an  inch  to  an  inch  and  a 
half  in  length,  which  we  now  began  to  see  formed  the  principal  vegetable 
food  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  region. 

In  a  short  distance  we  crossed  a  little  rivulet,  where  were  two  old  huts, 
and  near  by  were  heaps  of  acorn  hulls.  The  ground  round  about  was  very 
rich,  covered  with  an  e.xuberant  sward  of  grass  ;  and  we  sat  down  for  a 
while  in  the  shade  of  the  oaks  to  let  the  animals  feed.  We  repeated  our 
sliauts  for  Mr.  Preuss,  and  this  time  we  were  gratified  with  an  answer. 
Ihe  voice  grew  rapidly  nearer,  ascending  from  the  river ;  but  when  we 
expected  to  see  him  emerge,  it  ceased  entirely.  W^e  had  called  up  some 
straj;gling  Indian — the  first  we  had  met,  although  for  two  days  back  we 
had  seen  tracks — who,  mistaking  us  for  his  fellows,  had  been  only  unde- 
ceived on  getting  close  up.  It  would  have  been  pleasant  to  witness  his  as- 
tonishment ;  he  would  not  have  been  more  frightened  had  some  of  the  old 
mountain-spirits  they  are  so  much  afraid  of  suddenly  appeared  in  his  path. 

Ignorant  of  the  character  of  these  people,  we  had  now  an  additional 
cause  of  uneasiness  in  regard  to  Mr.  Preuss  ;  he  had  no  arms  with  him, 
and  we  began  to  think  his  chance  doubtful.  W^e  followed  on  a  trail,  stil! 
l\eeping  out  from  the  river,  and  descended  to  a  very  large  creek,  dashing 
with  great  velocity  over  a  pre-eminently  rocky  bed,  and  among  large 


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boulders.  The  bed  has  siuldcn  breaks,  lorined  by  dc(,'|)  hole-;  an(l  lf(l,r,.^ 
of  rock  rumiiiiy  across.  ICveii  here  it  deserves  the  name  of  Rock  Creek 
which  we  L^avc  lo  it.  We  succeedeil  in  fonhnLj  it,  and  toiled  ahout  thn c 
thousand  feet  up  the  oppositi;  hill.  Tin;  mountains  now  were  L^'^cttiii"  sin 
sibly  lower  ;  but  still  there  is  no  valley  on  the  river,  which  presents  stcii, 
and  rocky  banks  ;  but  here,  several  miles  from  the  river,  the  conntrvi. 
smooth  anil  grassy  ;  the  forest  has  no  undergrowth  ;  and  iii  ihu  (ipeii  wi. 
leys  of  rivulets,  or  around  spring  heatls,  the  low  grove-;  of  li\(>oak  "iw 
the  appearance  of  orchards  in  an  oUl  cultivated  country. 

Occasionally  we  met  deer,  but  had  not  the  necessary  lime  tor  huntiri". 
At  one  of  these  orchard  grounds  we  encamped  about  noon  to  make  ui 
effort  for  Mr.  Preuss.  One  man  took  his  way  along  a  spur  liadiiv^'-  in  tn 
the  river,  in  hope  to  cross  his  trail  ;  ancl  another  took  our  own  back. 
Both  were  volunteers  ;  ami  to  the  successful  man  was  promised  a  pair  of 
pistols  — not  as  a  reward,  l)ut  as  a  token  of  gratitude  for  a  service  which 
would  free  us  all  from  much  anxiety. 

We  had  among  our  few  animals  a  horse  which  was  so  nnicli  reducctl 
with  travelling  that  even  the  good  grass  could  not  save  him  ;  and,  havin.; 
noti.Mig  to  cat,  he  was  killed  this  afternoon.  He  was  a  good  animal,  and 
hat!  made  the  journey  round  from  Fort  Hall. 

Dodccalhcon  ^/tv/A?///w  continued  the  characteristic  plant  in  llowcr ;  aiiu 
the  naked-looking  shrub  already  mentioned  continued  characteristic,  he- 
ginning  to  put  forth  a  small,  white  blossom.  At  evening  the  men  returncii. 
having  seen  or  heard  nothing  of  Mr.  Preuss  ;  and  I  determined  to  make  i 
hard  push  clown  the  river  the  next  morning,  and  get  ahead  of  him. 

March  4/'//.--A\'e  continued  rapidly  along  on  a  broad,  plainly  beaten 
trail,  the  mere  travelling  and  breathing  the  delightful  air  being  a  positi\  • 
enioyment.  Our  road  led  along  a  ridge  inclining  »  the  river,  and  the  air 
and  the  open  grounds  were  fragrant  with  flowering  shrubs  ;  and  in  tiir 
course;  of  the  morning  we  issued  on  an  open  spur,  by  which  wc:  descendci 
directly  to  the  stream. 

1  lere  the  river  issues  suddeidy  from  the  mountains,  wdiich  hitherto  ha ! 
hemmed  it  closely  in  ;  these  now  become  softer,  and  change  st'nsibly  their 
character  ;  and  at  this  point  commences  the  most  beautiful  valley  in  whic. 
we  had  ever  travelled.  We  hurried  to  the  river,  on  which  wc  noticed  .i 
small  sand  beach,  to  which  Mr.  Preuss  would  naturally  have  gone.  \\i 
found  no  trace  of  him,  but,  instt'ad,  were  recent  tracks  of  bare-footed  i;.- 
dia!r>,  and  little  piles  of  nnissel-shcdls,  and  old  fires  where  they  had  roastni 
the  lish.  We  travelled  on  over  the  river  grounds,  which  were  midulatin. 
and  covered  with  grass  to  the  ri\(;r  brink.  We  halted  to  noon  ,i  lew  mi'- 
beyond,  always  under  the  shade  of  the  evergreen  oaks,  which  formed  open 
groves  on  the  bottoms. 


sHCOx/i  j:.\' /'/./)/ 1 /o\  -.\/K.  /'/</■:(  ss  /.()s/\ 


347 


Continiiincf  *>i"*  road  in  the  afternoon,  we  ascended  to  the  uplands,  wliere 
till'  river  |ja>ses  round  a  point  of  j^real  beauty,  anil  j^aies  throiij^di  very  re- 
:;'„irkali!i'  dalles,  in  character  rcsemblini^  those  of  the  Columbia  Kiver.  ISe- 
\(i;ul,  ^v'•  .I'^ain  descended  to  the  bottoms,  where  we  found  an  Indian  viliajje 
consistini,^  of  two  or  three  huts  ;  \\v.  had  come  upon  them  suddenly,  and 
•,'.v  iicoplf  had  evidently  just  run  off.  'I"he  huts  were  low  ami  slight,  made 
like  l)(-i'hives  in  a  picture,  live  or  six  fet!^  in.i,di,  and  in^ar  each  was  a  crate 
funneil  of  interlaced  liranches  and  grass,  a  size  and  shape  like  a  very  large 
Iioijshcad.  Kach  of  these  would  hold  fr  .m  six  to  nine  bushels.  They  were 
lid  wiih  the  long  acorns  already  m'";.ioned,  and  in  the  huts  were  several 
n  ,itly  made  baskets  containing  (juantities  of  the  acorns  roasted.  They 
VI  re  swLct  and  agreeably  flavored,  antl  we  supplied  ourselves  with  >it'  -ut 
.lilt  a  liush'I,  leaving  one  of  our  shirts,  a  handkerchief,  and  some  sm.'lier 
articles  in  exchange. 

The  ri\er  again  (.iitered  for  a  space  among  hills,  and  we  ilowed  a 
trail  leading  across  a  bem!  through  a  handsome  hollow  behind.  Ffere, 
while  engaged  in  trying  to  circumvent  a  deer,  we  discovered  some  I  idians 
oil  a  hill  several  1'  'ndred  yards  ahead,  and  gave  ther'  a  shout,  to  which 
thcv  responded  by  loud  and  rapid  talking  and  vehement  gesticulation,  but 
made  no  stop,  hurrying  up  the  mountain  as  fast  as  their  legs  could  carry 
ihf.m.     We  passed  on,  and  again  encamped  in  a  grassy  grove. 

I'he  alisence  of  Mr.  Preuss  gave  me  great  concern  ;  and,  for  a  large  re- 
ward, I  )t  rosier  volunteered  to  go  back  on  the  trail.  I  directed  him  to 
March  along  the  river,  travelling  upward  for  the  space  of  a  day  and  a  half. 
,it  which  time  I  expected  he  would  meet  Mr.  Pltzpatrick,  whom  I  requested 
til  aid  in  the  search  ;  at  all  events,  he  was  to  go  no  farther,  but  return  to 
this  camp,  where  a  cac/ic  of  provisions  was  made  for  him. 

Continuing  the  next  day  down  the  river,  we  discovered  three  squaws 
;:!  a  litde  bottom,  and  surrounded  them  before;  they  could  make  their  es- 
cape. They  had  large  conical  baskets,  which  they  were  engaged  in  tilling 
with  a  small  leafy  plant  {^Erodiuui  ciculariuin)  just  now  beginning  to  bloom, 
iiid  covering  the  ground  like  a  sward  of  grass.  These  did  not  make  any 
'.mientatinns,  but  appeared  very  much  impressed  with  our  appearance, 
^juakini^f  to  us  only  in  a  whisper,  and  offering  us  smaller  baskets  of  the 
plant,  which  they  signified  to  us  was  good  to  eat,  making  signs  also  that  it 
war,  to  1)1'  cooked  by  the  fire.  We  drew  out  a  little  cold  horse  meat,  and 
the  squaws  made  signs  to  us  that  the  men  had  gone  -nit  after  deer,  and 
that  we  could  have  some  by  waiting  till  they  came  in. 

Wc  observed  that  the  horses  ate  with  great  avidity  the  herb  v.h;"h  th<;y 
Had  heen  gathering;  and  here,  also,  for  the  first  time,  we  saw  Indians  eat 
t:ie  common  grass — one  of  the  squaws  pulling  several  tufts,  and  eating  it 
with  apparent  relish.     Seeing  our  surprise,  she  pointed  to  the  horses  ;  but 


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34S 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRliMONr. 


we  could  not  well  understand  what  she  meant,  except,  perhaps,  that  what 
was  good  for  the  one  was  good  for  the  other. 

We  encamped  in  the  evening  on  the  shore  of  the  river,  at  a  place  where 
the  associated  beauties  of  scenery  made  so  strong  an  impression  on  us  tin' 
we  have  given  it  the  name  of  the  Beautiful  Camp.  The  undulating  river 
shore  was  shaded  w'ilh  the  live  oaks,  which  formed  a  continuous  grove 
over  the  country,  and  the  same  grassy  sward  extended  to  the  edge  of  tin- 
water  ;  and  we  made  our  fires  near  some  large  granite  masses  which  wen; 
lying  among  the  trees. 

We  had  seen  several  of  the  acorn  caches  during  the  day  ;  and  here  there 
were  two  which  were  very  large,  containing  each,  probably,  ten  bushels. 
Toward  evenin-  we  heard  a  weak  shout  among  the  hills  behintl,  and  had 
the  pleasure  to  see  Mr.  Preuss  descending  toward  the  camp.     Like  our- 
selves, he  had  travelled  to-day  twenty-five  miles,  but  had  seen  nothing  of 
Derosier.      Knowing,  on  the  day  he  was  lost,  that  I  was  determined  to 
keep  the  river  as  much  as  possible,  he  had   not   thought  it   necessary  to 
follow  the  trail  very  closely,  but  walked  on,  right  and  left,  certain  to  tiiul 
it  somewhere  along  the  river,  searching  places  to  obtain  good  views  of  the 
country.     Toward  sunset  he  climbed  down  toward  the  river  to  look  for 
the  camp;  but,  finding  no  trail,  concluded  that  we  were  behind,  and  walked 
back  until  night  came  on,  when,  being  very  much  fatigued,  he  collected 
drift-wood  and  made  a  large  fire  among  the  rocks.     The  next  day  it  becaiiu; 
more  serious,  and  he  encamped  again  alone,  thinking  that  we  must  havi: 
taken  some  other  course.     To  go  back,  would  have  been  madness  in  his 
weak  and  starved  condition,  and  onward  toward  the  valley  was  his  only 
hope,  always  in  expectation  of  reaching  it  soon.     His  principal  means  of 
subsistence  were  a  few  roots,  which  the  hunters  call  sweet  onions,  haviiiL^ 
very  little  taste,  b'.t  a  good  deal  of  nutriment,  growing  generally  in  rocky 
ground,  and  requiring  a  good  deal  of  labor  to  get,  as  he  had  only  a  pocket- 
knife.     Searching  for  these,  he  found  a  nest  of  big  ants,  which  he  let  run 
on  his  hand,  and  stripped  them  off  in  his  mouth ;  these  had  an  agreeable 
acid  taste.     One  of  his  greatest  privations  was  the  want  of  tobacco  ;  and 
a  pleasant  smoke  at  evening  would  have  been  a  relief  which  only  a  voy- 
ageur  could  appreciate.     He  tried  the  dried  leaves  of  the  live-nak,  know- 
ing that  those  of  other  oaks  were  sometimes  used  as  a  substitute  ;  but  these 
were  too  thick,  and  would  not  do.     On  the  4th  he  made  seven  or  ei;.,'ht 
miles,  walking  slowly  along  the  river,  avoiding  as   much  as  possible  to 
climb  the  hills.     In  little  pools  he  caught  some  of  the  smallest  kind  of  fro.q;?, 
which  he  swallowed,  not  so  much  in  the  gratification  of  hunger,  as  in  the 
hope  of  obtaining  some  strength.     Scattered  along  the  river  were  old  tire- 
places,  where  the  Indians  had  roasted  mussels  and  acorns ;  but  though  he 
searched  diligently   he  did  not  there  succeed  in  finding  either.     He  had 


SECOJSTD  EXPEDITION— MR.  PREUSS  FOUND. 


349 


collected  firewood  for  the  night,  when  he  heard  at  some  distance  from  the 
river  the  barking  of  what  he  thought  were  two  dogs,  and  walked  in  that 
direction  as  quickly  as  he  was  able,  hoping  to  find  there  some  Indian  hut, 
but  met  only  two  wolves ;  and,  in  his  disappointment,  the  gloom  of  the 
forest  was  doubled. 

Travelling  the  next  day  feebly  down  the  river,  he  found  five  or  six  In- 
dians at  the  huts  of  which  we  have  spoken  ;  some  were  painting  them- 
selves black,  and  others  roasting  acorns.  Being  only  one  man,  they  did 
not  run  off,  but  received  him  kindly,  and  gave  him  a  welcome  sup[)l\-  of 
roasted  acorns.  He  gave  them  his  pocket-knife  in  return,  and  stretched 
out  his  hand  to  one  of  the  Indians,  who  did  not  appear  to  comprehend  the 
motion,  Imt  jumped  back,  as  if  he  thought  he  was  al)Out  to  lay  hold  of  him. 
They  seemed  afraid  of  him,  not  certain  as  to  what  he  was. 

Travelling  on,  he  came  to  the  place  where  we  had  found  the  squaws. 
Here  he  found  our  fire  still  burning,  and  the  tracks  of  the  horses.  'Flu; 
sio-ht  gave  him  sudden  hopt;  and  courage,  and,  follou'ing  as  fast  as  he 
could,  joined  us  at  evening. 

March  6f/i.  -We  continued  on  our  road  through  the  same  surpassingly 
I'.eautiful  country,  entirely  unequalled  for  the  pasturage;  of  stock  by  any- 
thing we  had  ever  seen.  Our  horses  had  now  become  so  strong  that  they 
were  able  to  caTy  us,  and  we  travelled  rapidly — -over  four  miles  an  hour ; 
four  of  us  riding  every  alternate  hour.  Every  few  hundred  yards  we  came 
;;pon  a  little  band  of  deer  ;  but  we  were  too  eager  to  reach  the  settlement, 
which  we  momentarily  expected  to  discover,  to  halt  for  any  other  than  a 
passing;-  shot.  In  a  few  hours  we  reached  a  large  fork,  the  northern  branch 
nfthc  river,  and  equal  in  size  to  that  which  we  had  descended.  Together 
they  fornieil  a  beautiful  stream,  sixty  to  one  hundred  yards  wide,  which  at 
first,  ij^iiorant  of  the  nature  of  the  country  through  which  that  river  ran, 
we  took  to  be  the  Sacramento. 

We  (iMitinued  down  the  right  bank  of  the  river,  travelling  for  a  while 
over  a  wooded  upland,  where  we  had  the  delight  to  discover  tracks  of 
cattle.  To  the  southwest  was  visible  a  black  column  of  smoke,  which  we 
had  freciuently  noticed  in  descending,  arising  from  the  fires  we  had  seen 
from  the  top  of  the  Sierra. 

From  the  upland  we  descended  into  broad  groves  on  the  river,  con- 
sistin(,r  of  the  evergreen  and  a  new  species  of  white-oak  with  a  large  tufted 
top,  and  three  to  six  feet  in  diameter.  Among  these  was  no  brushwood  ; 
and  the  i^Tassy  surface  gave  to  it  the  appearance  of  parks  in  an  old-settled 
country.  Following  the  tracks  of  the  horses  and  cattle  in  search  of  people, 
we  discovered  a  small  village  of  Indians.  Some  of  these  had  on  shirts  of 
fivilized  manufacture,  but  were  otherwise  naked,  and  we  could  understand 
nothing  h-otn  them  ;  they  appeared  entirely  astonished  at  seeing  us. 


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35° 


A//:.}W/A'.S  01<  MY  UlE—JOHN  CHARLES  FREMOXT. 


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J-    f 


I'lif  :.: 


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;j 


We  made  an  acorn  meal  at  noon,  and  hurried  on  ;  the  vallcv  hcino-  .r-,, 
with  flow  ers,  and  some  of  the  banks  beiny  absolutely  golden  with  the  Cal- 
ifornia poppy  {Eschscholtzia  fi-occa).  Here  the  grass  was  smooth  and 
green,  and  the  gro\es  very  open  ;  tiie  large  oaks  throwing  a  liroad  sIkkIc 
among  sunny  s{)ots. 

Shortly  afterward  we  gave  a  shout  at  the  appearance  on  a  litilc  hlulTdt' 
a  neatly-built  adobe  house  with  glass  windows.  We  rode  \\\),  Imt,  ui  our 
disappointment,  found  only  Indians.  There  was  no  appearance  nf  cultiva- 
tion, and  we  couUl  see  no  cattle,  and  we  supposed  the  place  had  been  aban- 
doned. We  now  pressed  on  more  eagerly  than  ever;  the  river  swept  round 
in  a  large  bend  to  the  right  ;  the  hills  lowered  down  (entirely  ;  and,  «r-Ai\- 
ually  entering  a  broad  valley,  we  came  unexpectedly  into  a  lari;<;  Indian 
village,  where  th(i  people  looked  clean,  and  wore  cotton  shirts  and  various 
oth(!r  articles  of  ilress.  They  immediately  crowded  around  us,  and  we  had 
the  inexpressible  delight  to  fmd  one  wdio  spoke  a  little  indifferent  .Spanish, 
but  who  at  first  coniounded  us  l)y  saying  there  were  no  whites  in  tlie 
country  ;  but  just  then  a  well-dressed  Indian  came  up,  and  made  his  salu- 
tations in  very  well  spoken  .Spanish.  In  answer  to  our  incpiiries  he  informed 
us  that  we  were  upon  the  Kio  i/r  /as  Aiiwricaiios  (the  River  of  the  .\mcri- 
cans),  and  that  it  joined  the  .Sacramento  River  about  ten  miles  below. 
Never  did  a  name  sound  more  sweetly  !  We  felt  ourselves  amoni.;;-our 
countrynu^n  ;  for  the  name  o{ ^luicricci?/,  in  these  distant  parts,  is  applied 
to  the  citizens  of  the  I'nited  States. 

To  our  eager  incpiiries  he  answered,  "I  am  w  vaqticro  (cowdicrdj  in 
the  service  of  Captain  Sutter,  and  the  people  of  this  ranchcria  \vorl<  for 
iiim."     Our  evident  satisfaction  made  him  communicative  ;  and  he  wen; 
on  to  say  that  Captain  Sutter  was  a  very  rich  man,  and  always  glad  to  sec 
his  coimtry  people.      We  asked  ^or  his  house.      He  answeretl  that  it  ua^ 
just  over  the  hill  before  us  ;  and  offered,  if  we  would  wait  a  moment,  to 
take  his  horse  and  coiuluct  us-  to  it.     We  readily  accepted  his  civil  otter. 
In  a  short  distance  we  came  in  sight  of  the  fort;   and,  passing  on  the  way 
the  house  of  a  setthn-  on  the  opposite  side  (a  Mr.  .Sinclair),  \\v.  forded  the 
river  ;  antl  in  a  few  miles  were  met  a  short  distance  from  the  fort  hy  Captain 
Sutter  himself      He  gave  us  a  most  frank  and  cordial  reception  -conducted 
us  immediately  to  his  residence — and  under  his  hospitable  roof  we  had  a 
night  of  rest,  enjoyment,  and  refreshment,  wdiich  none  but  ourselves  could 
appreciate.      lUit  the  party  left  in  the  mountains  wdth  Mr.  Fitzpalrick  were 
to  be  attendeil  to;  and  the  next  morning,  sup[ilied  with  fresh  horses  and 
provisions,  I  hurried  off  to  meet  them.     On  the  second  day  we  met.  a  lew 
miles  below  the  forks  of  the  Rio  de  los  Americanos  ;    and  a  more  forlorn 
and  pitiable  sight  than  they  presented  cannot  well  be  imagincnl.    Hie.v 
were  all  on  foot     each  man,  weak  anil  emaciated  -leading  ahorscor  niii:'. 


/'. 


y  being  ^';iy 
ith  the  Cai- 
smooth  and 
jroad  sliade 

,itd(-  bill  ft"  of 
but,  to  our 
v.  of  cultiva- 
[  been  al)an- 
swepl  rouiK! 
;  iind,  Ljrad- 
lur^c  hidiar, 
and  various 
,  and  we  liaii 
■cnt  Spanish, 
dutes  in  die 
ade  his  salu- 
i  In;  informed, 
[if  the  Ameri- 
miles  below. 
:s  amon;4  our 
ts,  is  applied 

cowdierd)  in 

crii!  work  \v: 

and  he  weiii 

s  i^lad  to  see 

that  it  \\\b 

moment,  tu 

civil  offer. 

on  the  way 

e  forded  tlir 

rt  by  Captain 

conducted 

lofwe  had  a 

rselves  could 

qiatrick  wer'' 

1  horses  and 

:c;  met.  a  few 

more  lorlorii 

vmed.    They 

lorse  or  mult 


\ 


* 


CAPTAIN    SUTTER, 


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SIX 

as  \ 
cult 
siio 
wur 
\viii( 
■■ani 
com 
Sdci 
aiiil 
c.\cr 

uiuv 
W. 
L'xce 
their 
to  th 
hear; 
had  I 
T 
theS 
heaiil 
and, 
the  i: 
whicl 
from 
line  0 

c, 

soiiri 
::rant 
at  firh 
well-t 
and  ii 
T 
dried 
and  0 
lur  \vl 
iiiaiik 
tn  thi 
has  ai 
trainii 
in  cor 
^easo: 


13 -g 


si:c 


OXn  l.XPEDITION—jrr.ARTV  UECEPTIOX  BY  CAPT.  SUTTER.      351 


as  weak  and  emaciated  as  themselves.  They  liad  experienced  great  diffi- 
culty i"  descending  the  mountains,  made  slippery  by  rains  and  melting 
siiou  s,  and  many  horses  fell  over  precipices  and  were  killed  ;  and  with  some 
wLi'c  lost  ^\\(:  packs  they  carried.  Among  these  was  a  mule  with  the  plants 
which  \vc  had  collectetl  since  leaving  Fort  Hall,  along  a  line  of  two  thou- 
-.;ui(l  miles  travel.  Out  of  sixty-seven  horses  and  mules  with  wdiich  we 
toinincnccd  crossing  the  .Sierra  only  thirty-three  reached  the  Valley  of  tlie 
S.nrainciilo.  and  they  only  in  a  condition  to  be  led  along.  Mr.  Fitzpatrick 
,111,1  his  jjarty,  travelling  more  slowly,  hail  been  able  to  make  some  little 
exertion  at  hunting,  and  had  killed  a  few  deer.  The  scanty  supply  was  a 
Tuat  relief  to  them;  for  several  had  been  made  sick  by  the  strange  and 
uinvholcsome  food  which  the  preservation  of  life  compelled  them  to  use. 
W'lj  sio[)i)td  and  encamped  as  soon  as  we  met  ;  and  a  repast  of  good  beef, 
excellent  bread,  and  delicious  salmon,  which  I  had  brought  along,  were 
their  first  relief  from  the  sufferings  of  the  Sierra  and  their  first  introduction 
10  the  luxuries  of  the  Sacramento.  It  required  all  our  philoso|)hy  and  for- 
b(  arance  to  prevent  plenty  from  becoming  as  hurtful  to  us  now  as  scarcity 
had  liecn  Ijefore. 

The  next  day,  March  8th,  we  encamped  at  the  junction  of  the  two  rivers, 
fiu:  Sacramento  and  Americanos  ;  and  thus  found  the  whole  party  in  the 
if  autiful  \'alley  of  the  Sacramento.  It  was  a  convenient  place  for  the  camp  ; 
ami,  among  other  things,  was  within  reach  of  the  wood  n(;cessary  to  make 
the  pack-saddles  which  we  should  need  on  our  long  journey  home,  from 
which  we  were  further  distant  now  than  we  vrere  four  months  before,  when, 
friim  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia,  we  so  cheerfully  took  up  the  homeward 
iiiii'  (if  march. 

Ca|)tain  Suf.er  emigrated  to  this  country  from  the  Western  part  of  Mis- 
Mjuri  in  i>>3'S-39,  and  formed  the  first  settlement  in  the  valley  on  a  large 
L,'raiuofland  which  he  obtained  from  the  Mexican  Government.  He  had, 
at  first,  some  trouble  with  the  Indians  ;  but,  by  the  occasional  exercise  of 
•  11  timed  authority,  he  has  succeeded  in  converting  them  into  a  peaceable 
am!  industrious  people. 

The  ditches  aroun  '  '-'s  (..;tensive  wheat-tields  ;  the  making  of  the  sun- 
ilriid  bricks,  of  which  .n-;  fort  is  constructed;  the  ploughing,  harrowing, 
and  other  agricultural  operations,  are  entirely  th-'!  work  of  these  Indians, 
tur  which  the)-  receive  a  very  moderate  compensation — principally  in  shirts, 
hlankets,  and  other  articles  of  clothing.  In  the  same  manner,  on  application 
tn  the  chief  of  a  village,  he  readily  obtains  as  many  boys  and  girls  as  he 
lia'^  any  use  for.  There  were  at  this  time  a  number  of  girls  at  the  fort,  in 
traininc;  for  a  future  woollen  factory  ;  but  they  were  now  all  busily  engaged 
in  constandy  watering  the  gardens,  which  the  unlavorable  dryness  of  the 
reason  rendered  necessary.     The  occasional  dryness  of  some  seasons  I 


'^ll'  M 


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mn  ¥ 


i 


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352 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRJ^MOXT. 


understood  to  be  the  only  complaint  of  the  settlers  in  this  fertiU;  valley,  as 
it  sometimes  renders  the  crops  uncertain.  Mr.  Sutter  was  abmit  makiiir 
arrangements  to  irrigate  his  lands  by  means  of  the  Rio  de  los  Americanos 
He  had  this  year  sown,  and  altogether  by  Indian  labor,  three  hiunlred/;?- 
negas  of  wheat. 

A  few  years  since  the  neighboring  Russian  establishment  of  Ross,  beiii" 
about  to  withdraw  from  the  country,  sold  to  him  a  large  number  of  stock, 
with  agricultural  and  other  stores,  with  a  number  of  pieces  of  artillerv,  and 
other  munitions  of  war ;  for  these  a  regular  yearly  payment  is  ni.ulf  in 
grain. 

The  fort  is  a  quadrangular  adobe  structure,  mounting  twelve  i.iices  of 
artillery  (two  of  them  brass),  and  capable  of  admitting  a  garrison  of  a  thou- 
sand men  ;  this,  at  present,  consists  of  forty  Indians,  in  uniform— one  nt 
whom  was  alwa\s  found  on  duty  at  the  gate.  As  might  naturally  lie  ex- 
pected, the  pieces  arc  not  in  very  good  order. 

The  whites  in  the  employment  of  Captain  Sutter,  .\merican,  I"rench, 
and  German,  amount,  perhaps,  to  thirty  men.  The  inner  wall  is  formed 
into  buildings  comprising  the  conmion  quarters,  with  a  blacksmith's  and 
other  work-shops;  the  dwelling-house,  with  a  large  distillery-house,  and 
other  buildings,  occupying  more  the  centre  of  the  area. 

It  is  built  upon  a  pond-like  stream,  at  times  a  running  creek  eoniniuni- 
cating  with  the  Rio  de  los  .\mericanos,  which  enters  the  .Sacramento  about 
two  miles  below.  The  latter  is  here  a  noble  river,  about  three  luiiiih'ed 
)'ards  broad,  deep  and  tranquil,  with  several  fathoms  of  water  in  the  channel. 
and  its  banks  continuously  timbered.  There  were  two  vessels  belonLjin:; 
to  Captain  Sutter  at  anchor  near  the  landing — one  a  large  two-masted 
lighter,  and  the  other  a  schooner,  which  was  shortly  to  proceed  on  a  vo\ 
age  to  I-'ort  \'ancouver  for  a  cargo  of  goods. 

Since  his  arrival,  several  other  persons,  principally  Americans,  haver-- 
tablished  themselves  in  the  valley.  Mr.  .Sinclair,  from  whom  I  experience.; 
much  kindness  during  my  stay,  is  settled  a  few  miles  distant,  on  the  Rio 
de  los  Americanos. 

Mr.  Coiidrois,  a  gentleman  from  Germany,  has  establisluil  hiniseh  en 
Feather  River,  and  is  associated  with  Captain  Sutter  in  agricukiiral  |)in- 
suits.     Among  other  improvements,  they  are  about  to  introduce  the  culti- 
vation of  rape-seed  {Brassica  rapus)  which  there  is  every  reason  to  beiiovr 
is  admirably  adapted  to  the  climate  and  soil.     The  lowest  average  prodiio 
of  wheat,  as  far  as  we  can  at  present  know,  is  thirty-five  fancc;as  tor  0111 
sown  ;  but,  as  an  instance  of  its  fertility,  it  may  be  mentioned  tliPt  Sefior 
Vallejo  obtained,  on  a  piece  of  ground  where  sheep  had  been  pasturci. 
eight  hundred  fancqas  for  eight  sown.     The  produce  being  different  m 
various  places,  a  very  correct  idea  cannot  be  formed. 


valley,  as 
ut  makiuif 
iiiericanos. 
iui(,lrod/.(- 

loss,  btin- 
;r  of  slock, 
tillery,  ami 
is  niaiU'  in 

I',  [jicces  ot 
n  of  a  thou- 
m — one  oi 
rally  I.k'  cn- 

an,  1"  reach. 
,1  is  formed 
smith's  and 
-house,  and 

;k  comniuni- 
nento  about 
ee  huiulred 
the  channel, 
s  bcdon;4in; 
two-mastc'i 
(1  on  a  V'lv- 


-■H,*-       .  ■■■>;_  ^,-  -,■_• 


'  M 


.iMk 


I.  .j:p 


'  4  1 


uc 

!cc 
tlu 
liit 
inc 

I  nil 
ion 

Ri\ 

lor 

liol 


!:Pf 


•:t;  t 


n\ 


ami 
part 
inoi 
oi  t! 
attl 
oftl 
to  tl- 
comi 
the  f 

C 
tlemi 
Iiad  I 
man, 
been 
were 
to  in' 
obtai 
lars  a 
if  he 
partic 
with  I 

W 
>tead' 
never 

M 
vision 
tliirty 
milch 


Sl.COXn  EXPEDiriON—SUTTEK'S  FORT  AND  FARM. 


353 


All  impetus  was  given  to  the  active  little  population  by  our  arrival,  as 
wc  were  in  want  of  everything.  Mules,  horses,  and  cattle  were  to  be  col- 
lected ;  the  horse-mill  was  at  work  day  and  night,  to  make  sufficient  flour  ; 
the  blacksmith's  shop  was  put  in  requisition  for  horse-shoes  and  bridle- 
hits ;  and  pack-saddles,  ropes,  and  britUes,  and  all  the  other  little  equip- 
ments of  tlic  camp  were  again  to  be  provided. 

The  delay  thus  occasioned  was  one  of  repose  and  enjoyment,  which 
(.ur  >ituati(>n  required,  and,  anxious  as  we  were  to  resume  our  homeward 
jmirney,  was  regretted  !))•  no  one.  In  the  meantime,  I  had  the  pleasure  to 
meet  witb  Mr.  Childs,  who  was  residing  at  a  farm  on  the  other  side  of  the 
River  Sacramento,  while  engaged  in  the  selection  of  a  place  for  a  settlement, 
lor  which  he  had  received  the  necessary  grant  of  land  from  the  Mexican 
('.ovi-rnnient. 

It  will  l)e  remembered  that  we  had  parted  near  the  frontier  of  the  States, 
ami  that  he  had  subsequently  descended  the  Valley  of  Lewis'  Fork,  with  a 
party  often  or  twelve  men,  with  the  intention  of  crossing  the  intermediate 
mountains  to  the  waters  of  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco.  In  the  execution 
of  this  design,  and  aided  by  subsequent  information,  he  left  the  Columbia 
at  the  mouth  of  Mal/iciir  River  ;  and,  making  his  way  to  the  head-waters 
of  the  Sacramento  with  a  part  of  his  company,  travelled  down  that  river 
to  the  settlements  of  Nueva  Helvetia.  The  other  party,  to  whom  he  had 
committed  his  wagons  and  mill-irons  and  saws,  took  a  course  farther  to 
the  south,  and  the  wagons  and  their  contents  were  lost. 

On  the  2 2d  we  made  a  preparatory  move,  and  encamped  near  the  set- 
tlement of  Mr.  Sinclair,  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Rio  de  los  Americanos.  I 
had  discharged  five  of  the  party  :  Neal,  the  blacksmith  (an  excellent  work- 
man, and  an  unmarried  man,  who  had  done  his  duty  faithfully  and  had 
been  of  very  great  service  to  me)  desired  to  remain,  as  strong  inducements 
were  offered  here  to  mechanics.  Although  at  considerable  inconvenience 
to  myself  his  good  conduct  induced  me  to  comply  with  his  recjuest ;  and  I 
obtained  for  him,  from  Captain  Sutter,  a  present  compensation  of  two  dol- 
lars and  a  half  per  diem,  with  a  promise  that  it  should  be  increased  to  five 
if  he  proved  as  good  a  workman  as  had  been  represented.  He  was  more 
uarticularlv  an  agricultural  blacksmith.  The  other  men  were  discharq^ed 
with  their  own  consent. 

While  we  remained  at  this  place,  Derosier,  one  of  our  best  men,  whose 
>teady  good  conduct  had  won  my  regard,  wandered  off  from  the  camp  and 
never  returned  to  it  again  ;  nor  has  he  since  been  heard  of. 

March  2\tli. — We  resumed  our  journey  with  an  ample  stock  of  pro- 
visions and  a  large  cavalcade  of  animals,  consisting  of  one  hundred  and 
thirty  horses  and  mules,  and  about  thirty  head  of  cattle,  five  of  which  were 
mikh  cows.     Mr.  Sutter  furnished  us  also  with  an  Indian  boy,  who  had 


ill 


iipiriTiiara 

~rv]Y';]p"-  iiiif  ■■'•ir  r 


'"  i' 


'('  I 


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If    'Si; 


r:  ■; 


•II 


0  \ 


1i 


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i    !':         1 


•* 


l!^' 


i':ii    ifc 


!'f!|  ' 


354 


MJl.UOJRS  OF  MY  I.IFE—JOIIX  CII.\Rl.i:s  l-REMOXT. 


been  trained  as  a  vaqucro  and  who  would  be  serviceable  in  manaeinfr 
cavalcade,  ^reat  part  of  which   were  ni:arly  as  wild  as  hulTalo  ■  ^m,!     i 
was,  besides,  very  anxious  to  go  along  with  us. 

(  )iii-  direct  course  home  was  east  ;  but  the  Sierra  would  Innr  us  •     ) 
ab()\-e  five  hundred  miles  y^'[  trax'elling,  to  a  pass  at  the  hci.l  oi  ^l,,.  c 
b>aquin  River.      'I'his  pass,  reportetl  to  be  gooil,  was  discoxcrcl  ],..  \\ 
Joseph  Walker,  of  whom  I  have  alreaily  spoken,  antl  whose  n.iuic  it  niinhf 
therefore,  appropriately  bear.       To  reach  it,  our  course  lay  alon"- tin.- viil  •  • 
of  the  San  |oa(|uin     the  ri\er  ^w  our  right,  and  the   lofty  \\ali  of  the  im 
passable  Sierra  on  tln'  left.      I'Voin  that   pass  we  were'  to  muve  suntheit 
A'.irdly,  having  the  .Sierra  then  on  the  right,  aiul  reach  the  "  Spunisl:  luii!" 
deviously  traced  from  on(.' watering  place  to  another,  which  ((iiistitiitud  tlic 
route  of  the  caravans  from   Pueblo  dc  los  .lii<:;f/cs,  near  the  coast  of  tho 
Pacific,  to  Santa  Ft'  of  New  Nb'xico.      l'"rom  the  pass  to  this  trail  was  oiir 
luuulred  and  fift)-  miles,      i'ollowing  that   trail   through  a  desert,  iclicvcil 
by  some  fertile  plains  imlicated  l)y  the  recurrence  of  the  term  rv-,?*,  until 
it  turneil  to  the  light  to  cross  tht;  CoU  -ado,  our  courst;  would  he  iinrdnast 
until  we  regained  the  latitude  we  hail  lost  in  arriving  at  tin-  li.ili  Lake 
and  thence  to  the  Rocky  ^b)untains  at  the  heatl  of  the  .Arkansas. 

lids  course  of  travelling,  forced  upon  us  by  the  structure  of  the  conn- 
tr\ .  would  occupy  a  computeil  distance  of  two  thousand  iiiilt->  hefon;  w- 
reached  the  heatl  of  tlu;  .\rkansas  ;  not  a  settlement  to  he  seen  imnnit: 
and  the  names  of  places  along  it,  all  being  .S|)anish  or  Indian,  iiKJicat'ii 
that  it  had  been  but  little;  trod  by  .American  fiet. 

Though  long,  and  not  free  from  hardships,  this  route  presented  soihl' 
points  of  attraction,  in  tracing  the  .Sierra  Nevada — turning  iIk  ('.i\;it  liasi:,. 
perhaps  crossing  its  ri.a  on  the  south  -completely  solving  iIk;  prohlcni  (>f 
anv  river,  except  the  Coloratlo,  from  the  Rocky  Mountains  on  that  parte! 
our  continent  -and  seeing  th(.'  southern  extremity  of  the  (ireai  Salt  Lakv, 
of  which  the  northern  part  had  been  examined  the  year  before:. 

Taking  leave  of  Mr.  Sutter,  who,  with  several  geiulenicn,  ai  i:orii[)anieil 
us  a  few  miles  on  our  way,  we  travelled  about  eighteen  miles,  and  cnraiiiiiai 
on  the  Rio  dc  /os  Cosumnes,  a  stream  receiving  its  name  from  the  Iiidiaii> 
who  live  in  its  valley.  Our  road  was  through  a  level  countrv,  admirably 
suited  to  lailtivation,  and  covered  with  groves  of  oak-trees,  priiuipallv  thi' 
evergreen  oak,  and  a  large  oak  already  mentioned,  in  lorm  like  iIiom m 
the  white  oak.  The  weather,  which  here  at  this  season  can  easily  W 
changi;il  from  the  summer  heat  of  the  valley  to  the  frosty  mornings  nnu 
bright  days  nearer  the  mountains,  continued  dedightful  for  travellers,  but 
unfavorable  to  the  agriculturists,  whose  crops  of  wheat  bei^an  to  wear  a 
yellow  tinge  from  want  of  rain. 


on  of  ll 


ood,  thfj  Joaquin  spreads  over  the  valley. 


M  ,!: 


]  i 


I 


1^ 


'3!  : 


^on  of  flood,  the  J 


oaquin  spreads  over  the  valley. 


Rio  de  los  Americanos, 

or  American  River. 


SCALE  3  MILES  TO  ONIf 
ENGRAVED  EXPRESSLY  FOR  FREf 


1^  .y«^,  ,,:  •.^■V'?^^^v^l^ 


MILES  TO  ONE  IN(  11 
fRESSLY  FOB  FREMONT  S  MCMOIRS 


m 


iii 


if  j      !,((■,  ;       ;   ] 


354 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRPmONT. 


been  trained  as  a  vaquero  and  who  would  be  serviceable  in  managing  our 
cavalcade,  yreat  part  of  which  were  nearly  as  wild  as  buffalo  ;  and  who 
was,  besides,  very  anxious  to  go  along  with  us. 

Our  direct  course  home  was  east ;  but  the  Sierra  would  forcf  im  cinntK 


M 


It'  i 


.  !  h 


\-\. 


^  : 


Iii  ill: 


CHAPTER   X. 


Homcwaid  Hound — Found  San  Joatiiiin — Pass  Creek — Sierra  Nevada— The  Great 
Pl;un>— Spanish  Indian  leaves  Us — Tiie  Spanish  Trail  Struck — A  Sad  Story— Car- 
Sfii  and  Godev's  Indian  Figlit — Find  Corpses  of  two  White  Men — Surnumdcd  by 
Saviisres— Tabeau  Killed. 


March  25///. — We  travelled  for  twenty-eight  miles  over  the  same  de- 
ii-htful  country  as  yesterday,  and  halted  in  a  beautiful  bottom  at  the  ford 
of  the  Rio  dc  los  Mokclumtics,  receiving'  its  name  from  another  Indian  tribe 
livini,'^  on  the  river.  The  bottoms  on  the  stream  are  broad,  rich,  and  ex- 
tremely fertile  ;  and  the  uplands  are  shaded  with  oak  groves.  A  showy 
lupinus  of  ('xtraordinary  beauty,  growing  four  to  five  feet  in  height,  and 
covered  with  spikes  in  bloom,  adorned  the  banks  of  the  river  and  filled  the 
iir  with  a  !i,L,dit  and  grateful  perfume. 

On  the  26th  we  halted  at  the  Arroyo  dc  las  Ca/avcnis  (Skull  Creek), 
a  tributary  to  the  San  Joaquin — the  previous  two  streams  entering  the  bay 
between  the  San  Joaquin  and  Sacramento  Rivers.  This  place  is  beautiful, 
with  open  groves  of  oak,  and  a  grassy  sward  beneath,  with  many  plants  in 
bloom ;  some  varieties  of  which  seem  to  love  the  shade  of  the  trees,  and 
;,'row  there  in  close,  small  fields. 

Xear  the  river,  and  replacing  the  grass,  are  great  quantities  of  aviole 
(soap  plant),  the  leaves  of  which  are  used  in  California  for  making,  among 
other  things,  mats  for  saddle-cloths.  A  vine  with  a  small  white  flower 
[mclothria  f),  called  here  la  yerba  biicna,  and  which,  from  its  abundance, 
gives  name  to  an  island  and  town  in  the  bay,  was  to-day  very  frequent  on 
mir  road     sometimes  running  on  the  ground  or  climbing  the  trees. 

March  z-jik.  To-day  we  travelled  steadily  and  rapidly  up  the  valley  ; 
lor,  with  our  wild  animals,  any  other  gait  was  impossible,  and  making 
about  live  miles  an  hour.  During  the  earlier  part  of  the  day  our  ride  had 
bticn  over  a  very  level  prairie,  or  rather  a  succession  of  long  stretches  of 
prairie,  separated  by  lines  and  groves  of  oak-timber,  growing  along  dry 
.ijiillies,  which  are  filled  with  water  in  seasons  of  rain  ;  and,  perhaps,  also 
by  the  melting  snows.  Over  much  of  this  extent  the  vegetation  was 
"I'arse;  the  sm-face  showing  plainly  the  action  of  water,  which,  in  the  sea- 

■"Ull  of  tl 


UOl 


,  the  Joaquin  spreads  over  the  valley. 


|h;    |h. 

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J.    '■■          I'i'     !■ 

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356 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LlFl-.—JOHN  CHARLES  FKEMOXT. 


About  one  o'clock  wc  came  again  among  innumerable  flowers ;  and  a 
few  miles  farther,  fields  of  the  beautiful  blue-flowering  lupine,  which  seems 
to  love  the  neighborhood  of  water,  indicated  that  we  were  approachiiiu  a 
stream.  We  here  found  this  beautiful  shrub  in  thickets,  some  of  them  be- 
ing twelve  feet  in  height.  Occasionally  three  or  four  j^lants  were  clustered 
together,  forming  a  grand  bouc^uet,  about  ninety  feet  in  circumference  an  i 
ten  feet  high  ;  the  whole  '.ummit  covered  with  spikes  of  flowers,  the  pcr- 
fume  of  which  is  very  sweet  and  grateful.  A  lover  of  natural  beauty  can 
imagine  with  what  pleasure  we  rode  among  these  flowering  groves,  whirh 
filled  the  air  with  a  light  and  delicate  fragrance. 

We  continued  our  road  for  about  half  a  mile,  interspersed  through  aii 
open  grove  of  live  oaks,  which  in  form  were  the  most  symmetrical  and 
beautiful  we  had  yet  seen  in  this  country.  The  ends  of  their  hranche-< 
restetl  on  the:  ground,  forming  somewhat  more  llian  a  liaH-sphrre  of  verv 
full  and  regular  figure,  with  leaves  apparently  smaller  than  usual. 

The  California  popp\-,  of  a  rich  orange  color,  was  numerous  to-'lav, 
Elk  and  several  bands  of  antelope  made  their  appearance. 

Our  rcjad  was  now  one  continued  enjoyment  ;  and  it  was  pleasaiu,  rid- 
ing among  this  assemblage  of  green  pastures  with  varied  flowers  and  scat 
tered  groves,  and  out  of  the  warm  green  spring,  to  look  at  the  rockv  aiiil 
snowy  peaks  where  lately  we  had  suffered  so  much.  KuKTi^inu;  from  the 
timber,  we  came  suddenK'  upon  the  .Stanislaus  River,  when'',;  we  hoped  tu 
find  a  fortl,  but  the  stream  was  flow  ing  by,  dark  and  deep,  swollen  l:>v  the 
mountain  snows  ;   its  general  breadth  was  about  fifty  yards. 

We  travelled  about  ^\\*z  miles  u[)  the  river,  and  i-ncampeil  without  heiii;' 
able  to  find  a  ford.  Here  we  made  a  large  coyyal,  in  order  to  be  tihle  to  cat(  'i 
a  sufficient  number  of  our  wild  animals,  to  relieve  those  previously  packid. 

Under  the  shade  of  the  oaks,  along  the  river,  I  noticed  Erodiuv!  cicut.'.- 
r/'uii!  in  bloom,  eight  or  ten  inches  high.  This  is  the  plant  which  we  I:a ; 
seen  the  squaws  gathering  on  the  Rio  de  los  Americanos.  I'y  the  inha'ii- 
tants  of  the  valley  it  is  highly  esteemed  for  fattening  cattle,  which  api)ear 
to  be  very  fond  of  it.  Here,  where  the  soil  begins  to  be  santly.  it  suppHe- 
I )  a  considerable  extent  the  want  of  grass. 

Desirous,  as  far  as  possible,  without  delay,  to  include  in  our  examina- 
tion th(;  San  Joaqiun  River,  I  returned  this  morning  down  the  StanislaiH 
for  seventeen  miles,  and  again  encamped  without  having  fon.id  a  lonh'ii, 
place.  After  following  it  for  eight  miles  farther  the  next  niornim^,  and 
finding  ourselves  in  the  vicinity  of  the  San  Joaquin,  encampt:d  in  a  hand- 
some oak-grove,  and,  several  cattle  being  killed,  we  ferried  over  our  bag- 
gage in  tlu'ir  skins.  Here  oiu"  Indian  boy,  who  probably  had  not  nnicli 
idea  of  where  he  was  going,  and  began  to  be  alarmed  at  the  many  streams 
which  we  were  rapidly  putting  between  him  and  the  village,  deserted. 


.Ini  ! 


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SECOND  EXPEDITION— IWMEWARD  BOUND. 


3S7 


Thirteen  head  of  cattle  took  a  sudden  fright,  while  we  were  driving 
their,  across  the  river,  and  galloped  off.  I  remained  a  day  in  the  endeavor 
to  recover  ihcin  ;  but,  finding  they  had  taken  the  trail  back  to  the  fort,  let 
them  w  without  further  effort.  Here  we  had  several  days  of  warm  and 
pleasant  rain,  which  doubtless  saved  the  crops  below. 

On  April  1st  we  made  ten  miles  across  a  prairie  without  timber,  when 
we  were  stopped  again  by  another  large  river,  which  is  called  the  Rio  de 
la  Mined  (River  of  our  Lady  of  Mercy).  Here  the  country  had  lost  its 
diaracter  i)f  extreme  fertility,  the  soil  having  become  more  sandy  and 
lirht;  but,  for  several  days  past,  its  beauty  had  been  increased  by  the  ad- 
ihtional  animation  of  animal  life  ;  and  now  it  is  crowded  with  bands  of  elk 
ami  wild  horses  ;  and  along  the  rivers  are  frequent  fresh  tracks  of  grizzly 
bears,  whicli  are  unusually  numerous  in  this  country. 

Our  route  had  been  along  the  timber  of  the  San  Joaquin,  generally 
about  eight  miles  distant,  over  a  high  prairie. 

Ill  one  of  the  bands  of  elk  seen  to-day  there  were  about  two  hundred  : 
but  the  larger  bands,  both  of  these  and  wild  horses,  are  generally  found  on 
the  other  side  of  the  river,  which,  for  that  reason,  I  avoided  crossing.  I 
had  been  informed  below  that  the  droves  of  wild  horses  were  almost  inva- 
riablv  found  on  the  western  bank  of  the  river  ;  and  the  danger  of  losing 
our  animals  among  them,  together  with  the  wish  of  adding  to  our  recon- 
noissance  the  numerous  streams  which  run  down  from  the  Sierra,  decided 
me  to  travel  up  the  eastern  bank. 

April  id. — The  day  was  occupied  in  building  a  boat,  and  ferrying  our 
baggage  across  the  river  ;  and  we  encamped  on  the  bank.  A  large  fish- 
ing eagle,  with  white  head  and  tail,  was  slowly  sailing  along,  looking  after 
salmon  ;  and  there  were  some  pretty  birds  in  the  timber,  with  partridges, 
ilucks,  and  geese  innumerable,  in  the  neighborhood.  We  were  struck 
with  the  lameness  of  the  latter  bird  at  Helvetia,  scattered  about  in  flocks 
near  the  wheat-fields,  and  eating  grass  on  the  prairie  ;  a  horseman  would 
ride  l)y  within  thirty  yards  without  disturbing  them. 

.//;//  id. — ^To-day  we  touched  several  times  the  San  Joaquin  River 
—here  a  fme-looking,  tranquil  stream,  with  a  slight  current,  and  appar- 
ently deep.  It  resembled  the  Missouri  in  color,  with  occasional  points  of 
white  sand ;  and  its  banks,  where  steep,  were  a  kind  of  sandy  clay ;  its 
average  width  appeared  to  be  about  eighty  yards.  In  the  bottoms  are 
frequent  ponds,  where  our  approach  disturbed  multitudes  of  wild  fowl, 
principally  geese.  Skirting  along  the  timber,  we  frequently  started  elk  ; 
and  large  bands  were  seen  during  the  day,  with  antelope  and  wild  horses. 
The  low  country  and  the  timber  rendered  it  difficult  to  keep  the  main 
line  of  the  river ;  and  this  evening  we  encamped  on  a  tributary  stream, 
about  five  miles  from  its  mouth.     On  the  prairie  bordering  the  San  Joaquin 


\  l] 


il 


)     1; 


358 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFK—JOUX  CHARLES  FREMOXT. 


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bottoms  we  found  diiriny  the  day  but  little  grass,  and  in  its  place  wa^ 
a  sparse  and  dwarf  growth  of  plants  ;  the  soil  being  sandy,  with  small 
bare  places  and  hillocks,  reminded  me  much  of  the  Platte  bottoms ;  Imt 
on  approaching  the  timber,  we  found  a  more  luxuriant  vegetation  ;  mul  ,a 
our  camp  was  an  abundance  of  grass  and  pea-vines. 

The  foliage  of  the  oak  is  getting  darker ;  and  everything,  except  that 
the  weather  is  a  little  cool,  shows  that  spring  is  rapidly  advancing:  aiiil 
to-day  we  had  quite  a  summer  rain. 

April  ^^th. — ComuKMiccd  to  rain  at  daylight,  but  cleared  olThri'-htlv  at 
sunrise.  We  ferried  the  river  without  any  difficulty,  and  continued  up  the 
San  Joacjuin.  Elk  were  running  in  bands  over  the  prairie  and  in  the  skirt 
of  the  timber.  We  reached  the  river  again  at  the  mouth  of  a  large  slou'rh, 
which  we  were  unable  to  ford,  and  made  a  circuit  of  several  miles  around. 
Here  the  country  appears  very  Hat  ;  oak-trejs  have  entirely  disappeared, 
and  are  replaced  by  a  large  willow  nearly  equal  in  size.  The  river  i^ 
about  a  hundred  yards  in  breadth,  branching  into  sloughs,  and  intcrsperseii 
with  islands.  At  this  time  it  appears  sufficiently  deep  for  a  small  steamer. 
but  its  navigation  would  be  broken  by  shallows  at  low  water. 

Bearing  in  toward  the  river,  we  were  again  forced  off  by  another  slough: 
and,  passing  around,  steered  toward  a  clump  of  trees  on  the  river,  and,  find- 
ing there  good  grass,  encamped.  The  prairies  along  the  left  hank  are 
alive  with  immense  droves  of  wi'd  horses  ;  and  they  had  been  seen  during 
the  day  at  every  opening  through  the  woods  which  afforded  us  a  view 
across  the  river.  Latitude,  by  observation,  i']''  o8'  oo"  ;  longitude  120  45 
22". 

^Ipril  ^tlt. — During  the  earlier  part  of  the  day's  ride  the  country  pre- 
sented a  lacustrine  appearance  ;  the  river  was  deep,  and  nearly  on  a  leve; 
with  the  surrounding  country  ;  its  banks  raised  like  a  levee,  and  fringed 
with  willows.  Over  the  bordering  plain  were  interspersed  spots  of  prairie 
among  fields  of  hilc  (bulrushes'),  which  in  this  country  are  called  tulard. 
and  little  ponds.  On  the  opposite  side  a  line  of  timber  was  visible,  which. 
according  to  information,  points  out  the  course  of  the  slough,  which,  at  times 
of  high  water,  connects  with  the  .San  Joaquin  River — i;  large  body  of  water 
in  the  upper  part  of  the  vallej-,  called  the   Tule  Lakes. 

The  river  and  all  its  sloughs  are  very  full,  and  it  is  probable  that  the 
lake  is  now  discharging.  Here  elk  were  frequently  started,  and  one  wa.'i 
shot  out  of  a  band  which  ran  around  us. 

On  our  left,  the  Sierra  maintains  its  snowy  height,  and  masses  of  snow- 
appear  to  descend  very  low  toward  the  plains  ;  probabb,  the  late  rains  m 
the  valley  were  snow  on  the  mountains.  We  travelled  thirty-seven  miles, 
and  encamped  on  the  river.  Longitude  of  the  camp,  120°  28  34  ,  and  lati- 
tude 36"  49'  12". 


S/:r<h\7)  EXPF.DITWN—FOUND   THE  SAX  JOAQUJX. 


359 


AprilMli. — After  having  travelled  fifteen  miles  along- the  river  we  made 
an  early  Ii^i't  under  the  shade  of  sycamore-trees.  Here  we  found  the  San 
loaquiii  coining  down  from  the  Sierra  with  a  westerly  course,  and  check- 
inf  our  \v  .  ^'^  all  its  tributaries  had  previously  done.  We  had  expected 
to  raft  the  river;  but  found  a  good  ford,  and  encamped  on  the  opposite 
■  ank,  wIhti'  drovt's  of  wild  horses  were  raising  clouds  of  dust  on  the  prairie. 
Cohiinns  of  smoke  were  visible  in  the  direction  of  the  Tule  Lakes  to  the 
soiithwanb-probably  kindled  in  the  tnlarcs  by  the  Indians,  as  signals  that 
there  werf.'  strangers  in  the  valley. 

W'c  iiiiulc,  on  the  "th,  a  hard  march  in  a  cold,  chilly  rain  from  morning 
,:ntil  ni^'lu  — the  weather  so  thick  that  we  travelled  by  compass.  This  was 
I  havcrsc  iVom  the  San  Joaquin  to  the  waters  of  the  Tulc  Lakes,  and  our 
road  was  over  a  very  level  prairie  country. 

\Vf  saw  wolves  frequently  during  the  day,  prowling  about  aftq;"  the 
voimcj  antelope,  which  cannot  run  very  fast.  These  were  numerous  dur- 
in-  the  day,  and  two  were  caught  by  the  people. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  we  discovered  timber,  which  w-as  found  to  be 
Toves  of  oak-trees  on  a  <Sxy  arroyo.  The  rain,  which  had  fallen  m  fre- 
quent showers,  poured  down  in  a  storm  at  sunset,  with  a  strong  wind, 
which  swept  off  the  clouds  and  left  a  clear  sky.  Riding  on  through  the 
timber,  about  dark  we  found  abundant  water  in  small  ponds,  twenty  to 
thirtv  yards  in  diameter,  with  clear,  deep  water  and  sandy  beds,  bordered 
with  boQ;rushes  {'/uncus  cffusus)  and  a  tall  rush  {Scirpus lacustris)  tweh-e 
ilet  hii^li,  and  surrounded  near  the  margin  with  willow-trees  in  bloom  ; 
among  them  one  which  resembled  Salix  myricoides.  The  oak  of  the  groves 
was  the  same  already  mentioned,  with  small  leaves,  in  form  like  those  of 
•v;  white  oak,  and  forming,  with  the  evergreen  oak,  the  characteristic  trees 
"fthe  valley. 

Apyil  %th. — After  a  ride  of  two  miles  through  brush  and  open  groves 
we  reached  a  large  stream,  called  the  River  of  the  Lake,  resembling  in  size 
'he  San  Joaquin,  and  being  about  one  hundred  yards  broad.     This  is  the 
principal  tributary  to  the  Tulc  Lakes,  which  collect  all  the  waters  in  the 
:  per  part  of  the  valley.      While  we  were  searching  for  a  ford  some  Indi- 
ans appeared  on  the  opposite  bank,  and,  having  discovered  that  we  were 
not  Spanish  soldiers,  showed  us  the  way  to  a  good  ford  several  miles  above. 
The  Indians  of  the  Sierra  make  frequent  descents  upon  the  settlements 
'vest  of  the  Coast  Range,  wdiich  they  keep   constantly  swept  of  horses; 
inion;.;  them  are  many  who  are   called  Christian   Indians,  being  refugees 
"■■m  Spanish  missions.     Several  of  these  incursions  occurred  wdiile  we  were 
"Helvetia.     Occasionally  parties  of  soldiers  follow  them  across  the  Coast 
'^■Wffe,  but  never  enter  the  Sierra. 
On  the  opposite  side  we  found  some  forty  or  fifty  Indians,  who  had  come 


;iM; 


360 


AfF..VO/RS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FrAawxt. 


I 


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to  meet  us  from  the  village  below.  We  made  them  some  small  presents 
and  invited  them  to  accompany  us  to  our  encampment,  which,  after  about 
three  miles  through  fme  oak-groves,  we  made  on  the  river.  \Vc  made  a 
fort,  principally  on  account  of  our  animals. 

The  Indians  brought  otter-skins  and  several  kinds  of  fish,  aiul  breau 
made  of  acorns,  to  trade.  Among  them  were  several  who  had  come  to  live 
among  these  Indians  when  the  missions  were  broken  up,  and  who  spokt 
Spanish  fluently.  They  informed  us  that  they  were  called  by  the  SpanianU 
mansilos  (tame),  in  distinction  from  the  wilder  tribes  of  the  mountains: 
they,  however,  think  themselves  very  insecure,  not  knowing  at  what  uiifon> 
seen  moment  the  sins  of  the  latter  may  be  visited  on  them.  They  are  dark- 
skinned,  but  handsome  and  intelligent  Indians,  and  live  principally  onaconis 
and  the  roots  of  the  tule,  of  which  also  their  huts  are  made. 

By  observation  the  latitude  of  the  encampment  is  36  24' 50",  aiidlon- 
gitude  1 19   41'  40". 

April  gi/i. — P'or  several  miles  we  had  very  bad  travelling  over  what  is 
called  rotten  ground,  in  which  the  horses  were  frequently  up  to  their  knees. 
Making  toward  a  line  of  timber  we  found  a  small  fordable  stream,  beyond 
which  the  country  improved  and  the  grass  became  excellent ;  and,  crossing; 
a  number  of  dry  and  timbered  arroyos,  we  travelled  until  late  through  open 
oak-groves,  and  encamped  among  a  collection  of  streams.  These  were 
ruiming  among  rushes  and  willows  ;  and,  as  usual,  flocks  of  blackbirds  an- 
nounced our  approach  to  water. 

We  have  here  approached  considerably  nearer  to  the  eastern  Sierra, 
which  shows  very  plainly,  still  covered  with  masses  of  snow,  which  yester- 
day and  to-day  has  also  appeared  abundant  on  the  Coast  Range. 

April  lol/i. — To-day  we  made  another  long  journey  of  about  forty 
miles,  through  a  country  uninteresting  and  flat,  with  very  little  grass  and 
a  sandy  soil,  in  which  several  branches  we  crossed  had  lost  their  water. 
In  the  evening  the  face  of  the  country  became  hilly;  and,  turning  a  few 
miles  up  toward  the  mountains,  we  found  a  good  encampment  on  a  pretty 
stream  hidden  among  the  hills,  and  handsomely  timbered,  principally  with 
large  cotton-woods  (populus,  differing  from  any  in  Michau.x's  "Sylva'i. 
The  seed-vessels  of  this  tree  were  now  just  about  bursting. 

Several  Indians  came  down  the  river  to  see  us  in  the  evening :  we  gave 
them  supper,  and  cautioned  them  against  stealing  our  horses,  which  they 
promised  not  to  attempt. 

April  wtli. — .'\  broad  trail  along  the  river  here  takes  out  among  the 
hills.  "  Buen  camino  "  (good  road),  said  one  of  the  Indians,  of  whom  wc 
had  inquired  about  the  pass ;  and,  following  it  accordingly,  it  conducted 
us  beautifully  though  a  very  broken  country,  by  an  excellent  way  which, 
otherwise,  we  should  have  found  extremely  bad.     Taken  separately,  the 


^1   \%M 


SECO.VD  F.XPKDl I lOX—rASS  CREKK. 


361 


;u  ,  aiiu  1011- 


iior:  we  gave 


hills  present  smooth  and  graceful  outlines,  but  together,  make  bad  travel- 
ling i^Tound. 

InsiL-ad  of  grass,  the  whole  face  of  the  country  is  closely  covered  with 
Erodiuiii  (icutaritivi,  here  only  two  or  three  inches  high.  Its  height  and 
bwutv  variril  in  a  remarkable  manntr  widi  the  locality,  being,  in  many 
low  places  which  we  passed  during  the  da)',  art)un<l  streams  and  springs, 
tuoaiui  thne  feet  in  height.  The  country  had  now  assumed  a  character 
ui" aridity ;  ami  the  luxuriant  green  of  these  little  streams,  wooded  with 
v.iilow,  oak,  <>r  sycamore,  looked  very  refreshing  among  the  sandy  hills. 

In  the  (vc-ning  we  encamped  on  a  large  cnek  with  abimdant  water.  I 
noticed  here,  for  the  first  time  since  leaving  the  Arkansas  waters,  the 
Miral'iiis  Jalapa  in  bloom. 

Apiii  \2tl1. — Along  our  road  to-day  the  country  was  altogether  sandy, 
and  vegetation  meagre.  Ephedra  occidcntalis,  which  we  had  Hrst  seen  in 
:hc  neI|j;hl)orhood  of  the  Pyramid  Lake,  made  its  appearance  here,  and  in 
the  course  of  the  day  became  very  abundant,  and  in  large  bushes. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  afternoon  we  reached  a  tolerably  large  river, 
vhich  -mpties  into  a  small  lake  at  the  head  of  the  valley :  it  is  about 
•.:iirt\-f:vc  yards  wide,  with  a  stony  and  gravelly  bed,  and  the  swiftest 
stream  we  have  crossed  since  leaving  the  bay.  The  bottoms  produced 
no  grass,  though  well  timbered  with  willow  and  cotton-wood  ;  and,  after 
ascending  it  for  several  miles,  we  made  a  late  encampment  on  a  little 
bottom  with  scanty  grass.  In  greater  part,  the  vegetation  along  our 
road  consisted  now  of  rare  and  unusual  plants,  among  which  many  were 
'•■lUirely  new. 

AlonL,^  the  bottoms  were  thickets  consisting  of  several  varieties  of  shrubs, 
which  made  here  their  first  appearance  ;  and  among  these  was  Garrya 
dlipiicd  (Lindley),  a  small  tree  belonging  to  a  very  peculiar  natural  order, 
an !,  in  its  general  appearance  (growing  in  thickets),  resembling  willow. 
know  became  common  aK)ng  the  streams,  frequently  supplying  the  place 
of  Salix  loiii^i/olia. 

April  13///. —The  water  was  low,  and  a  few  miles  above  we  forded  the 
river  at  a  rapid,  and  marched  in  a  southeasterly  direction  over  a  less  broken 
country.  The  mountains  were  now  very  near,  occasionally  looming  out 
through  fog.  In  a  few  hours  we  reached  the  bottom  of  a  creek  without 
'vater,  over  which  the  sandy  beds  were  dispersed  in  many  branches.  Im- 
:iitdiately  where  we  struck  it  the  timber  terminated  ;  and  below,  to  the 
right,  it  was  a  broad  bed  of  dry  and  bare  sands.  There  were  many  tracks 
oflndians  and  horses  imprinted  in  the  sand,  which,  with  other  indications, 
nilormed  us  thus  was  the  creek  issuing  from  the  pass,  and  which  on  the 
map  we  have  called  Pass  Creek. 

We  ascended  a  trail  for  a  few  miles  along  the  creek  and  suddenly 


Kli.fl 


.'•!■! 


Mi 


If  if  ^i 


li  -W 


I      1-, 


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I'  i; 


362 


AfFMO/RS  or  MY  [.II-F.—JOIIX  C/fA R/.FS  l-RliMONT. 


found  ;i  stream  of  water,  five  feet  wide,  running  with  a  lively  current,  but 
losinj^f  itself  almost  immediately.  This  litttle  stream  showed  plainly  the 
manner  in  which  the  mountain  waters  lose  themselves  in  sand  at  thr 
eastern  foot  of  the  Sierra,  leaving  only  a  parched  desert  and  arid  plain-, 
beyond.  The  stream  enlarged  rapidly,  and  the  timber  became  abundant 
as  we  ascended. 

A  new  species  of  pine  made  its  appeai-ance,  with  several  kinds  nf  nak>. 
and  a  variety  of  trees  ;  and  the  country  changing  its  appearance  suddt;nl\ 
and  entirely,  we  found  ourselves  again  travelling  among  the  old  orchard- 
like  places.  Here  we  selected  a  delightful  encampment  in  a  handsome. 
greenoak  hollow,  where,  among  the  open  bolls  of  the  tree-s,  was  an  abun 
dant  sward  of  grass  ami  pea-vines. 

In  the  evening  a  Christian  Indian  rode  into  the  camp,  well  dressed, 
with  long  spurs  and  a  sombrero,  and  speaking  Spanish  fluently,  it  was 
an  un(!xpectetl  apparition  and  a  strange  anil  pleasant  sight  in  this  desolatf 
gorge  of  a  mountain  an  Indian  face,  Spanish  costume,  jingling  spurs,  and 
horse  equipped  after  the  Spanish  manner.  He  inform.cd  me  that  hu  be 
longed  to  one  of  the  Spanish  missions  to  the  south,  distant  two  or  thrcr 
days'  ride,  and  that  he  had  obtained  from  the  priests  leave  to  spend  a  lew 
days  with  his  relations  in  the  Sierra.  Having  seen  us  enter  the  pass,  hf 
had  come  down  to  visit  us.  He  appeared  familiarly  acquainted  with  thr 
country,  and  gave  me  definite  and  clear  information  in  regard  to  the  desert 
region  east  of  the  mountains.  I  had  entered  the  pass  with  a  stroni;-  dis- 
position to  vary  my  route,  and  to  travel  directly  across  towartl  the  Great 
Salt  Lake,  in  the  view  of  obtaining  some  acquaintance  with  the  interior  nt' 
the  Great  Basin,  while  pursuing  a  direct  course  for  the  frontier;  but  hi- 
representation,  which  described  it  as  an  arid  and  barren  tlesert,  that  h 
repulsed  by  its  sterility  all  the  attempts  of  the  Indians  to  penetrate  it 
termined  me  for  the  present  to  relinquish  the  plan  :  and,  agret/ably  to  hi> 
advice,  after  crossing  the  Sierra,  contir.ue  ou-  intended  route  along  it~ 
eastern  base  to  the  Spanish  trail.  Rytiiii  route  a  party  of  six  Indians 
who  hail  come  from  a  great  river  in  the-  ea  .tern  part  of  the  desert  to  trad'- 
with  his  people,  had  just  startetl  on  t'l'.  u  return.  He  would  himself  return 
the  next  dav  to  Sa)i  Fernando ;  and  as  our  roads  would  be  the  same  tor 
two  days,  he  offered  his  services  to  conduct  us  so  far  on  our  way.  His 
offer  was  gladly  accepted. 

The  fog,  which  had  somewhat  interfered  with  views  in  the  valley,  had 
entirely  passed  off  and  left  a  clear  sky.  That  which  had  enveloped  us  in 
the  neighborhood  of  the  pass  proceeded  evidently  from  fires  kindled  amon^,^ 
the  tulares  by  Indians  living  near  the  lakes,  and  which  were  intended  to 
warn  those  in  the  mountains  that  there  were  strangers  in  the  valley,  Our 
position  was  in  latitude  35'  17'  12",  and  longitude  118^  35'  03". 


(le- 


SFCOA'D  KXPF.DITTOX—SIEKKA   XK I \i DA. 


3^^ 


April  14///.  Our  guide  joined  us  this  niorninj,'  on  the  trail ;  and,  ar- 
nvin"  in  a  short  distance  at  an  open  bottom  where  the  creek  forked,  we 
continued  up  the  right-hand  branch,  which  was  enriched  by  a  profusion  of 
•lowers,  and  handsomely  wooded  with  sycamore,  oaks,  cotton-wootl.  and 
willow,  with  odier  trees  and  some  shrubby  plants.  In  its  long  strings  of 
balls  this  sycamore  differs  from  that  of  the  United  States,  and  is  the  P/a- 
t.inus  occidcntalis  of  Hooker — a  new  species  recently  described  among  the 
plants  collected  in  the  voyage  of  the  Sulphur.  The  cotton-wood  varieil 
im  folia':[e  with  white  tufts,  and  the  feathery  seeds  were  flying  plentifully 
throii ;'h  the  air.  Gooseberries,  nearly  ripe,  were  very  abundant  on  the 
mountain  :  and  as  we  passed  the  diviiling  grounds,  which  were  not  very 
.asv  to  ascertain,  the  air  was  filled  with  perfume,  as  if  we  were  entering  a 
highly-cultivated  garden ;  and,  instead  of  green,  our  pathway  and  the 
:nountain  sides  were  covered  with  fields  of  yellow  flowers,  which  here  was 
:he  prevailing  color. 

Our  journey  to-day  was  in  the  midst  of  an  advanced  spring,  whose 
;^reen  and  floral  beauty  offered  a  delightful  contrast  to  the  sandy  valley  we 
had  just  left.  All  the  day  snow  was  in  sight  on  the  butte  of  the  mountain, 
which  frowned  down  upon  us  on  the  right  ;  but  we  beheld  it  now  with 
iVelings  of  pleasant  security,  as  we  rode  along  between  green  trees  and  on 
nowers,  with  humming-birds  and  other  feathered  friends  of  the  traveller 
enHvening  the  serene  spring  air. 

.-\s  we  reached  the  summit  of  this  beautiful  pass,  and  obtained  a  \  iew 
i;no  the  eastern  country,  we  saw  at  once  that  here  was  the  place  to  take 
leave  of  all  such  pleasant  scenes  as  those  around  us.  The  distant  moun- 
t:n!is  were  now  bald  rocks  again  ;  and  below,  the  land  had  any  color  but 
;reen.  Taking  into  consideration  the  nature  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  we 
found  this  pass  an  e.xcellent  one  for  horses  ;  anc'  with  a  littie  labor,  or  per- 
haps with  a  more  perfect  examination  of  the  localities,  it  might  be  made 
v.ifficiendy  practicable  for  wagons.  Its  latitude  and  longitude  may  be  con- 
sidered that  of  our  last  encampment,  only  a  few  miles  distant.  The  eleva- 
tion was  not  taken-  -our  half-wild  cavalcade  making  it  too  troublesome  to 
.i.ilt  before  night,  when  once  started. 

We  here  left  the  waters  of  the  Bay  of  .Sail  I'rancisco,  and  diough  forced 
upon  them  contrary  to  my  intentions,  I  cannot  regret  the  necessity  which 
occasioned  the  deviation.  It  made  me  well  acquainted  with  ihe  great 
range  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  of  the  Alta  California,  and  showed  that  this 
broad  and  elevated  snowy  ridge  was  a  continuation  of  the  Cascade  Range 
ot  Oregon,  between  which  and  the  ocean  there  is  still  another  and  a  lower 
range,  parallel  to  the  former  and  to  the  coast,  and  which  may  be  called  the 
Coast  Range.  It  also  made  me  well  acquainted  with  the  basin  of  the  San 
Francisco  Bay,  and  with  the  two  line  rivers  and  their  valleys  (the  Sacra- 


m 

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mm 


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.I//-,l/rVA'.V  OF  MY  LIFE—JOIfN  CIFARLRS  FREMONT. 


\  Ji 


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T;    '"      . 


IMK 


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inclUc)  and   San  Joaciuin)  which  arc  trihuiary  to  I'lat  bay  ;  and  cleared  um 
some  p("!.ii.s  hi  ycoyraj)h\  oa  which  error  hail  long  prexaiied. 

It  hatl  been  constantly  re[)resented,  as  I  have  ah'eady  stated,  that  thi.' 
Hay  o{  San  iM-ancisco  opened  far  inlo  tlie  interior,  by  some  river  coniin  r 
down  iVoin  the  base  (  f  the  RocI-:y  ^bJuntains,  and  u])on  which  siipposeil 
stream  the  nanu:  of  Rio  lUienaventura  had  been  bestowed.  Our  oliserva- 
tion.i  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  in  the  lon^;'  distance  from  the  head  of  die  Sac- 
ramento to  the  head  of  the  Sail  joac[uin,  and  of  the  valley  below  it,  whici; 
collects  all  the;  watc.-rs  of  the  San  I'rancisco  Hay,  show'  that  this  neither  is 
nor  can  be  the  case.  No  river  from  the  interior  does,  or  can,  cross  the 
Sierra  Nevada  -itseif  more  lofty  than  ihe  Rocky  Mountains  ;  and  as  to  tlu; 
Huenaventura,  the  mouth  of  which  seen  on  the  coast  gave  the  idea  and  tlic 
name  of  the  reputeil  L;i'cat  river,  it  is,  in  fact,  a  small  stream  of  no  conse- 
quence, not  only  below  the  .Sierra  .Nevada,  but  actuall)-  below  die  Coast 
Range  —taking-  its  rise  within  half  a  de_t,''ree  of  the  ocean,  rumiiuL;-  paraiici 
to  it  for  about  two  degrees,  antl  then  falliny  into  the  Pacific  near  Monterey. 
There  is  no  opening  from  the  Bay  of  San  I'Vancisco  \\\X.o  the  interior  of  the 
continent.  The  two  rivers  wdiich  l1ow  into  it  are  com[)aratively  short,  and 
not  pt  r[)<mdicular  to  \.\\v.  coast,  but  lateral  to  it,  and  having  their  heads  to- 
ward Oregon  and  Southern  Ca.iifornia.  They  open  lines  of  communication 
north  and  south,  and  not  eastwardly  ;  and  thus  this  want  of  interior  commu- 
nication from  th(;  .San  I'rancisco  Bay,  now  fully  ascertained,  gives  great 
adililional  value  to  the  Colmnbia,  which  stands  alone  as  the  only  cjreat 
river  on  the  Pacific  sle)pe  of  our  continent  which  leads  from  the  ocean  to 
the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  opens  a  line  of  communication  from  the  sea  m 
the  Valley  of  the  Mississippi. 

Four  cotupaficros  joined  our  guide  at  the  pass  ;  and  two  going  back  at 
noon,  the  others  continued  on  in  company.  Descending  from  the  hills,  we 
reached  a  country  of  fine  -i.iss,  where  the  Erodinm  liailayiitiii  iin.illy  dis- 
appeared, giving  place  to  an  e.vcellent  quality  of  bunch  grass.  Passinj;  liy 
some  springs  where  there  was  a  rich  sward  of  grass  among  groves  ot  lari.:e 
black  oak,  we  rode  over  a  plain  on  which  the  guide  pointed  out  a  spot 
where  a  refugee  Christian  Indian  had  been  killed  by  a  party  of  soldiers 
which  had  unexpectedly  penetrated  into  the  mountains. 

Crossing  a  low  sierra,  and  descending  a  hollow^  where  a  sprint,''  gushed 
out,  we  were  struck  by  the  suelden  appearance  of  j7/(V(/  trees,  which  gave  a 
strange  and  southern  diameter  to  the  country,  antl  suited  well  with  the  dry 
and  desert  region  w('  wn-re  approaching.  Associated  with  the  iilca  ot  barren 
sands,  their  stiff  and  ungraceful  form  makes  them  to  the  traveller  the  most 
repulsive  tree  in  the  vegetable  kingdom.  Following  the  hollow,  we  shortly 
came  upon  a  creek  wooded  with  large  black  oak,  which  yet  had  not  put 
forth  a  leaf.     There  was  a  small  rivulet  of  runiihig  water  with  good  grass. 


SECOND  EXPEDfTION—THE  GREAT  PLAEV. 


3<5S 


Apyil  ^S^^'- — ^  '^*^'  Indians  who  had  accompanied  the  guide  returned 
this  morning,  and  I  purchased  from  them  a  Spanish  saddle  ami  long  spurs, 
as  reminiscences  of  the  time  ;  and  tor  a  few  yards  of  scarlet  cloth  they  ga\e 
me  a  horse,  which  afte'"ward  became  food  for  other  Indians. 

\Vc  continued  a  short  distance  down  the  creek,  in  which  our  guide  in- 
I'ormed  us  that  the  water  very  soon  disappeared,  and  turned  directly  to  the 
southward  along  the  foot  of  the  mountain  ;  the  trail  on  which  we  rode  a[:)- 
pearini,''  to  describe  the  eastern  limit  of  travel,  where  water  and  grass  ter- 
minated. 

Crossing  a  low  spur,  which  bordered  the  creek,  we  descended  to  a  kind 
of  plain  among  the  lower  spurs  ;  the  desert  being  in  full  view  on  our  left, 
apparently  illimitable.  A  hot  mist  layover  it  to-day,  through  which  it  IkuI 
a  white  and  glistening  appearance  ;  here  and  there  a  few  dry-looking 
buttes  and  isolated  black  ridges  rose  suddenly  upon  it.  "  There,"  said  our 
^'iiide,  stretching  out  his  hand  toward  it,  "  there  arc  the  great  /'/anrs 
iplains)  ;  no /lay  (i<^//ii ;  no  hay  zacatc  —nada  (there  is  neither  water  nor 
^rass  nothing)  ;  every  animal  that  goes  out  upon  them  ilies."  It  was 
indeed  dismal  to  look  upon,  and  lianl  to  conceive  so  great  a  change  in  so 
short  a  tlistance.  One  might  travel  the  world  over  without  finding  a  wd- 
levmore  fresh  and  verdant,  more  tloral  and  sylvan,  more  alive  with  l)irds 
and  animals,  more  bounteously  watered,  thcMi  we  had  left  in  the  San  foa- 
Ojuin :  here,  within  a  few  miles'  ride,  a  vast  desert  plain  spreatl  before  us, 
iVom  which  the  boldest  traveller  turned  away  in  despair. 

Direcllv  in  front  of  us,  at  some  distance  to  the  southward,  and  running 
ont  in  an  easterly  ilirection  from  the  mountains,  stretched  a  sierra,  having 
at  till'  eastern  end  (perhaps  fifty  miles  distant)  some  snowy  peaks,  on 
wliicii,  by  the  information  of  our  guide,  snow  rested  all  the  year. 

Our  cavalcade  made  a  strange  and  grotesque  appearance,  and  it  was 
impossilik;  to  avoid  retlecting  upon  our  position  and  composition  in  this  re- 
mote solitude.  Within  twoiU\gr(M's  r/ftlu'  i'  uillc  (  .\'ean  ;  alreatl)'  far  south 
n' the  latitude  of  Monterey  :  and  still  forced  on  south  by  a  desert  on  one 
hand  and  a  mountain  rr.nge  on  the  oih'M- ;  guided  by  a  civilizeil  Indi.in, 
attended  by  two  wild  ones  from  the  Sii.'.i  :  a  Chinook  fiom  the  Cohnnbia; 
and  our  (uvn  mixture  of  American,  Frencli,  (n^rman  all  armed;  foiu-  or 
i^e  huv^uages  heard  at  once  ;  above  a  luunhxHl  horses  and  nudes,  li.df 
'u'd:  .American,  Spanish,  aiul  Indian  dresses  and  equipments  intermingled 
such  was  our  coiu'^-'sition. 

Our  march  was  ,,  .-^ort  of  procession.  Scouts  ahead,  a.nl  on  the  flanks  ; 
;'  Iront  and  rear  division  ;  the  packntiimals,  baggage,  and  horned  cattle  in 
the  centre  ;  and  the  whole  stretching  a  (]uarter  of  a  mile  along  our  drcory 
path.  In  this  form  we  journeyed  ;  looking  more  as  if  wc  belonged  to  Asia 
than  to  the  United  States  of  America. 


i; 


Kl 


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■iiu 


il:       '    I 


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i;:i 


U\i 


til 


rm 


366 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


We  continued  in  a  southerly  direction  across  the  plain,  to  which,  as  well 
as  to  all  the  country  so  far  as  we  could  see,  \\\it  yucca  trees  gave  a  stran  ^ 
and  singular  character.  Several  new  plants  appeared,  a"->cng  which  wan 
a  zygophyllaceous  shrub  yZygophyllum  Californiciim  Torr.  ,iik1  P'rem.  1 
sometimes  ten  feet  in  height ;  in  form,  and  in  the  pliancy  of  its  branches,  it 
is  rather  a  graceful  plant.  Its  leaves  are  small,  covered  with  a  resinous 
substance  ;  and,  particularly  when  bruised  and  crushed,  exhale  a  siivu'.ar, 
but  very  agreeable  and  refreshing  odor.  This  shrub  and  \\\<i.  yucca,  with 
many  varieties  of  cactus,  make  the  characteristic  features  in  the  vegetation 
for  a  long  distance  to  the  eastward. 

Along  the  foot  of  the  mounlain,  twenty  miles  to  the  southward,  red 
stripes  of  flowers  were  visible  during  the  morning,  which  we  supposed  to 
be  variegated  sandstones.  We  rode  rapidly  during  the  day,  and  in  Uie  af- 
ternoon emerged  from  the  yucca  forest  at  the  foot  of  an  outlier  of  the 
Sierra  before  us,  and  came  among  the  llelds  of  llowers  we  had  seen  in  the- 
morning,  which  consisted  princi[)ally  of  the  rich  orange-colored  Californian 
poppy,  mingled  with  other  ilowers  of  brighter  tints.  Reaching  the  to[j  ot 
this  spur,  which  was  covered  with  fine  bunch  grass,  and  where  the  hills 
were  very  green,  our  guide  pointed  to  a  small  hollow  in  the  mountain  hu 
fore  us,  saying,  "  En  csta  picdra  /lay  ai^ua."  He  appeared  to  know  even 
nook  in  the  country. 

W^e  continued  our  beautiful  road,  and  reached  a  spring  in  the  slope  at 
the  foot  of  the  ridge,  running  in  a  green  ravine,  among  granite  boulders; 
here  nightshade,  and  borders  of  buckwheat,  with  their  white  blossonb 
among  the  granite  rocks,  attracted  our  notice  as  familiar  plants.  Several 
antelopes  were  seen  among  the  I'lls,  anel  some  large  hares.  .Men  were 
sent  back  this  evening  in  search  of  c.  wild  mule  with  a  valuable  [)ack,  whidi 
had  managed  (as  they  frecpiently  do)  to  hide  itself  along  the  roa<!. 

Hy  observadon  the  latitude  of  the  camp  is  34"  41'  42",  and  longitude 
I  iS    20'  00".      The  next  day  the  men  returned  with  the  'nule. 

April  xyf/i.  -Crossing  the  ridge  by  a  beautiful  pass  of  hollows,  wheiv 
several  deer  broke  out  of  the  thickets,  we  emerged  at  a  small  salt  lake  in  a 
valloii  lying  nearly  (nist  and  west,  where  a  trail  from  the  mission  of  Sxn 
Ih<cnavcntHra  comes  in.  The  lake  is  about  one  thousand  two  hundrid 
yards  in  diameter ;  surrounded  on  the  margin  by  a  white  salty  border, 
which,  by  the  smell,  reminded  us  slightly  of  Lake  Abort.  There  are  some 
cotton-woods,  with  willow  and  elder,  around  the  lake;  and  the  w.itcr  '.■^  1 
little  salt,  although  not  entirely  unfit  for  drinking. 

Here  we  turned    directly  to  the  eastward   along   the  trail,  which,  Inmi 
being  seldom  used,  is  almost  imperceptible  ;   and,  after  travelling  a  lew  nule^, 
our  guide  halted,  and,  pointing  to  the  hardly  visible  trail,  "  Aqni cscamino, 
said  he,  "  no  sc  picrde--va  sicmpre."     He  pointed  out  a  black  butte  011  tlu 


OWS,    WllCl'i 


SECOND  EXPEDITION—SPANISH  INDIAN  LEAVES  US. 


367 


plain  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  where  we  would  find  water  to  encamp  at 
ni'ht ;  and,  g^ivinghim  a  present  of  knives  and  scarlet  cloth,  we  shook  hands 
and  parted.  He  bore  off  south,  antl  in  a  day's  ride  would  arrive  at  San  Fer- 
nando, one  of  several  missions  in  this  part  of  California,  where  the  country  is 
>o  beautiful  that  it  is  considereil  a  paradise,  and  the  name  of  its  principal 
;o\vn  {Pueblo  df  los  Angeles)  would  make  it  angelic. 

Wo  continued  on  through  a  succession  of  valleys,  and  came  into  a  most 
;  .uti;'al  spot  of  tlower  fields  ;  instead  of  green,  the  hills  were  purple  and 
oraiiije,  with  unbroken  beds,  into  which  each  color  was  separately  gathered. 
A  lalc  straw  color,  with  a  bright  yellow,  the  rich  red-orange  of  the  poppy 
iniivdcd  with  fields  of  purple,  covered  the  spot  with  a  floral  beauty  ;  and, 
on  the  border  of  the  sanily  deserts,  seemed  to  invite  the  traveller  to  go  no 
llirdier.  Riding  along  through  the  perfumed  air  we  soon  after  entered  a 
defile  overgrown  with  the  ominous  Artemisia  tridentata,  which  conducted 
ii'^  in*.  /  a  .-ii.iJv  plain  covered  more  or  less  densely  with  forests  oi yucca. 

F'av'ng  .1  '  "  the  snowy  ridge  on  our  right,  we  continued  our  way  to- 
ward a  dark  taittc  belonging  to  a  low  sierra  in  the  plain,  and  which  our 
■^iiide  had  pointed  out  for  a  landmark.  Late  in  the  day  the  familiar  growth 
of  cotton-wood,  a  line  of  which  was  visible  ahead,  indicated  our  approach  to 
.1  creek,  wiiich  we  reached  where  the  water  spread  out  into  sands,  and  a 
litde  below  sank  entirely.  Here  our  guide  had  intended  we  should  pass 
the  nii^ht;  but  there  was  not  a  blade  of  grass,  and,  hoping  to  find  nearer 
the  mountain  a  little;  for  the  night,  we  turned  up  the  stream.  A  hundred 
vmds  above  we  found  the  creek  a  fine  stream,  sixteen  feet  wide,  with  a 
swift  current. 

k  dark  night  overtook  us  when  we  reached  the  hills  at  the  foot  of  the 
ridije,  and  we  were  obliged  to  encamp  without  grass-tying  up  what  ani- 
mals \vc  could  secure  in  the  darkness,  the  greater  part  of  the  wild  ones 
having- free  range  fi  r  the  light.  Here  the  stream  was  two  feet  deep,  swift 
and  clear,  issuin^  I  --.n  :<.  neighboring  snow-peak.  A  few  miles  before 
paching  this  creciv  v.  •  liad  crossed  a  broad,  dry  river  bed,  which,  nearer 
the  hill'-,,  the  lumt;r.;  h,  1  fe  nd  a  bold  and  handsome  stream. 

April  icS///.  Some  parties  were  engaged  in  hunting  up  the  scattered 
lorses,  and  others  in  searchin>if  for  i^rass  above  ;  both  were  successful,  and 
late  in  the  day  we  encamped  among  some  spring  heads  of  the  river,  in  a 
iiollow  which  was  covered  with  only  tolerably  good  grasses,  the  lower 
jound  being  entirely  overgrown  with  large  bunches  of  the  coarse  stiff 
,^'rass  {Car ex  si(chcnsis). 

y^m  latitude   ■  "  observation,  was  34    2;' 03"  ;  and  longitude    117"  43' 


:i  . 


I  ravelling  clt> 


ion-;  die  mountain,  we  followed  up,  in  the  afternoon 
of  the  lyth,  another  stream,  in  hopes  to  find  a  grass  patch  like  that  of  the 


^■ 


iliri: 


ir  ! 


yi  ■ 


I '  I 


M 


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i'if, 


;,68 


MEMOIRS  OF  AlV  UFR—JOHN  CHARLES  FRAmONT. 


previous  day,  but  were  deceived  ;  except  some  scattered  bunch  grass,  there- 
was  nothing  but  rock  and  sand ;  and  even  the  fertility  of  the  mountain 
seemed  withered  by  the  air  of  the  desert.  Among  the  few  trees  was  tiif 
nut-pine  (  Finns  monophylhis). 

Our  road  the  next  day  was  still  in  an  easterly  direction  alono-  the  rid-re 
over  very  bad  travelling  ground,  broken  and  confounded  with  crippled  trees 
and  shrubs;  and,  after  a  difficult  march  of  eighteen  miles,  a  general  shout 
announced  that  we  had  struck  the  great  object  of  our  search  the  Spaxisi; 
TKAn. — which  here  was  running  tlirectly  north.  The  road  itself  and  it; 
course  were  equally  happy  discoveries  to  us.  Since  the  middle  of  Decem- 
ber we  had  continually  been  forced  south  by  mountains  and  by  deserts,  and 
now  would  have  to  make  six  degrees  o{  norlhiinr  to  regain  the  latitude  on 
which  we  wished  to  cross  the  "  (<"'-■./  Mountains.  The  course  of  the  road, 
tlierefore,  was  what  we  wantei.  ,  once  more,  we  felt  like  goinf  home- 

ward. A  road  to  travel  on  and  t  ii:;ht  course  to  go  were  joyful  conso- 
la':ions  to  us  ;  and  our  animals  enjoyed  the  beaten  track  like  ourselves. 

Relieved  from  the  rocks  and  ]:)rush,  our  wild  mules  started  off  at  a  rapid 
rate,  and  in  fifteen  miles  we  reached  a  considerable  river,  timbered  witii 
cotton-wood  and  willow,  where  we  found  a  bottom  of  tolerable  grass.  As 
the  animals  had  suffered  a  great  deal  in  the  last  few  days,  I  remained  here 
all  next  day  to  allow  them  the  necessary  repose  ;  and  it  was  now  neccssarv, 
at  every  favorable  place,  to  make  a  little  halt.  Between  us  and  the  Colo- 
rado River  we  were  aware  that  the  country  was  extreinely  poor  in  gras^, 
and  scarce  for  water,  there  being  vc\.-\\\y  joni.idai;  (days' journey),  or  Ion.; 
stretches  of  forty  to  sixty  miles,  without  water,  where  the  road  was  nnrke'l 
by  bones  of  animals. 

Although  in  California  we  ha'l  met  with  people  who  had  passed  ov.  • 
this  trail,  we  had  been  able  to  obtain  no  correct  information  ahout  it:  an' 
the  greater  part  of  what  we  had  heard  was  found  to  be  only  a  tissue  o; 
fals(dioods.  The  rivers  that  we  found  on  it  were  never  mentioned,  an 4 
others,  particularly  de.^crlbed  in  name  antl  locality,  were  subsequently  seen 
in  another  part  of  the  country.  It  was  described  as  a  tolerably  good  sandy 
road,  with  so  little  rock  as  scarcely  to  require  the  animals  to  he  shod;  and 
we  found  it  the  roughest  and  rockiest  road  we  liad  ever  seen  in  th(;  ciuiiitry, 
and  which  nearly  destroyed  our  band  of  fine  mules  and  horses.  .Many  a;:- 
mals  are  destroyed  on  it  every  year  by  a  disease  called  the  foot-evil :  an ! 
a  traveller  should  never  venture  on  it  without  having  his  animals  well  shod, 
and  also  carrying  extra  shoes. 

Latitude  34"  34'  1 1",  and  longitude  117"  13'  00". 


i„. 


The  morning  of  the  22d  was  clear  and  bright,  and  a  snowy  peak  to  i 
southward  shone  out  high  ami  sharply  defined.     As  has  been  usual  sine? 
we  crossed  the  mountains  and  descended  into  the  hot  plains,  we  hatl  a  _L;alt' 


SECOND  F.XrEDiriON—TIfF.  SPANISH  TRAIL  STRl^CK. 


369 


of  wind.  We  travelled  down  the  right  bank  of  the  stream,  over  sands 
which  are  somewhat  loose  and  have  no  verdure,  but  are  occupied  by  vari- 
ous shrubs. 

A  clear,  bold  stream,  sixty  feet  wide  and  several  feet  deep,  had  a 
-iraiis^o  appearance,  running  between  perfectly  naked  banks  of  sanil.  The 
cvj,  however,  is  somewhat  relieved  by  willows,  and  the  beautiful  green  of 
tiv  sweet  cotton-woods  with  which  it  is  well  wooded.  As  we  followed 
aion'^'"  its  course,  the  river,  instead  of  growing  constantly  larger,  gradually 
i.vindled  away,  as  it  was  absorbed  by  the  sand. 

We  were  now  careful  to  take  the  old  camping-places  of  the  annual 
Santa  Fc  caravans,  which,  luckily  for  us,  had  not  yet  made  their  yearly 
nassaee.  A  drove  of  several  thousand  horses  and  mules  would  have 
entirely  swept  away  the  scanty  grass  at  the  watering  places,  and  we  should 
hcU\!  been  obliged  to  leave  the  road  to  obtain  subsistence  for  our  animals. 
After  riding  twenty  miles  in  a  northeasterly  direction,  we  found  an  old  en- 
campment, where  we  halted. 

By  observation  the  elevation  of  this  encampment  is  two  thou-^and  two 
hundred  antl  fifty  feet. 

Aj)ril  2id.  — The  trail  followed  still  along  the  river,  which,  in  the  course 
of  the  morning,  entirely  disappeared.  We  continued  along  the  dry  bed,  in 
which,  after  an  interval  of  about  sixteen  miles,  the  water  reappeared  in 
^o:nc  low  places,  well  timbered  with  cotton-wood  and  willow,  where  was 
anoth'ir  of  the  customary  camping-grounds. 

Here  a  party  of  si.x  Indians  came  into  camp,  poor  and  hungry,  and 
'[uitc  in  keeping  with  the  character  of  the  country.  Their  arms  were  bows 
ofun^isual  length,  and  each  had  a  large  gourd,  strengthenrd  with  meshes 
')tcor<l,  in  which  he  carried  water.  They  proved  to  be  the  Mohahve  In- 
iiaui  in'Mitioncd  b\'  our  recent  guide  ;  and  from  one  of  them,  who  spoke 
Spanisii  'luciitly,  I  obtained  some  interesting  information  which  I  would 
be  glad  to  introduce  here. 

An  account  of  th';  people  inhabiting  this  region  would  undoubtedly 
possess  interest  for  the  civilized  world.  Our  journey  homeward  was  fruit- 
iul  in  incident  ;  and  the  countr\-  through  which  we  travelled,  although  a 
'Icsert,  offered  much  to  excite  the  curiosity  of  the  botanist ;  but  limited 
i'.ine  and  the  rapidly  advancing  season  for  active  operations  oblige  me 
to  omit  all  extended  descriptions,  and  hurry  briefly  to  the  conclusion  of 
this  report. 

The  Indian  who  spoke  Spanish  had  been  educated  for  a  number  of 
years  at  one  of  tin:  Spanish  missions,  anil,  at  the  breaking  up  of  those  es- 
tablishments, had  returned  to  the  mountains,  where  he  had  been  found  by 
a  party  of  Mohahve  (sometimes  called  Amuchava)  Indians,  among  whom 
lip  had  ever  since  resided. 


fl'l' 


.1 


X 


^^" 


370 


MEMOIRS  OF  AfV  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRJ^MONT. 


11! 


I!  '■ 


r; .  :i 


He  spoke  of  the  leader  of  the  present  party  as  "  mi  amo  "  (my  master) 
He  said  they  lived  upon  a  large  river  in  the  southeast,  which  the  "soldiers 
called  the  Rio  Colorado  ;  "  but  that,  formerly,  a  portion  of  them  lived  upon 
this  river  and  ainony  the  mountains  which  had  bounded  the  river  vallev 
lu  the  northward  during  the  day,  and  that  here  along  the  river  thoy  had 
raised  various  kinds  of  melons.  They  sometimes  came  over  to  trade  widi 
the  Indians  of  the  Sierra,  bringing  with  them  blankets  and  goods  manufac- 
tured by  the  Moquis  and  other  Colorado  Indians.  They  rarely  carried 
home  horses,  on  account  of  the  difficulty  of  getting  them  across  the  desert 
an<.l  of  guarding  them  afterward  from  the  Pi-utah  Indians,  who  inhabit  die 
Sierra,  at  the  head  of  the  A'/o  Virgoi  (River  of  the  Virgin). 

He  informed  us  that,  a  short  distance  below,  this  river  finally  disap- 
])eared.  The  two  different  portions  in  which  water  is  found  had  received 
from  the  priests  two  different  names  ;  ana  subsequently  I  heard  it  called 
l)y  the  Spaniards  the  Rio  dc  las  Animas,  but  on  the  map  we  have  called 
it  the  Mohahvc  River. 

April  2\th. — We  continued  down  the  stream  (or  rather  iis  bed)  for 
about  eight  miles,  where  there  was  water  still  in  several  holes,  and  en- 
camped. The  caravans  sometimes  continue  below  to  the  end  of  the  river, 
from  which  there  is  a  very  long  Jornada  of  perhaps  sixty  miles  without 
\\ater. 

Here  a  singular  and  new  species  of  acacia,  with  spiral  pods  or  seed- 
vessels,  made  its  first  appearance  ;  becoming  henceforward,  for  a  consider- 
able distance,  a  characteristic  tree.  It  was  here  comparatively  large,  being 
about  twenty  feet  in  height,  with  a  full  and  spreading  top,  the  lower 
braiiches  declining  toward  the  ground.  It  afterward  occurred  of  smaller 
size,  frequently  in  groves,  and  is  very  fragrant.  It  has  been  called  by  Dr. 
Torrey  Spirolobiitiu  odoralufn.  The  zygophyllaceous  shrub  had  been  con- 
stantly characteristic  of  the  plains  along  the  river  ;  and  here,  among  many 
new  plants,  a  new  and  very  remarkable  species  of  eriogonum  [Eriogonim 
inflatuui  Torr.  and  bVem.)  made  its  first  appearance. 

Our  cattle  had  become  so  tired  and  poor  by  this  fatiguing  travelHn<,' 
that  three  of  them  were  killed  here,  and  the  meat  dried.  The  Indians  had 
now  an  occasion  for  a  great  feast,  and  were  occupied  the  remainder  of  the 
dav  and  all  the  night  in  cooking  and  eating.  There  was  no  part  ot  the 
animal  for  which  they  did  not  find  some  use,  except  the  bones. 

In  thf>  afternoon  we  were  surprised  by  the  sudden  appearance  in  the 
camp  of  two  Mexicans — a  man  and  a  boy.  The  name  of  the  man  was 
Andres  Fuentes  ;  and  that  of  the  boy  (a  handsome  lad,  eleven  years  old) 
Pablo  Hernandez.  They  belonged  to  a  party  consisting  of  six  persons, 
the  remaining  four  being  the  wife  of  Fuentes,  the  father  and  mother  of 
I'ablo,  and  Santiago  Giacome,  a  resident  of  New  Mexico.     With  a  cava!- 


nif  travcilint: 


SECOiVD  EXPEDITJON—A  SAD  STOR\. 


371 


cade  of  about  thirty  liorses  they  had  come  out  from  Pueblo  de  los  Angeles, 
111  ar  ihc  coast,  under  the  guidance  of  Giacome,  in  advance  of  the  great 
Ccuava;!,  in  order  to  travel  more  at  leisure  and  obtain  better  grass.  Hav- 
i;i '  advanced  as  far  into  the  desert  as  was  considered  consistent  with  their 
-at'ctv,  they  halted  at  the  Archilettc,  one  of  the  customary  camping-grounds, 
about  cii'hty  miles  from  our  encampment,  where  there  is  a  spring  of  good 
water,  with  sufficient  grass ;  and  concluded  to  await  there  the  arrival  of 
the  "Teat  caravan.  Several  Indians  were  soon  discovered  lurking  about 
the  camp,  who,  in  a  day  or  two  after,  came  in,  and,  after  behaving  in  a 
\i  iv  tViiMully  manner,  took  their  leave  without  awakening  any  suspicions. 
Iheir  deportment  begat  a  security  which  proved  fatal.  In  a  {iiw  (hiys 
afterward,  suddenly  a  party  of  about  one  hundred  Indians  aijpeared  in 
si'dit,  advancing  toward  the  cainp.  It  was  too  late,  or  they  seemed  not, 
to  have  presence  of  mind  to  take  proper  measures  of  safety  ;  and  the  In- 
dians charged  down  into  their  camp,  shouting  as  they  advanced  and  dis- 
charinng  flights  of  arrows.  Pablo  and  Fuentes  were  on  horse-guard  at 
the  time,  and  mounted,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  country.  One  of 
the  principal  objects  of  the  Indians  was  to  get  possession  of  the  horses, 
aad  part  of  them  immediately  surrounded  the  band  ;  but,  in  obedience  to 
■',ic  shouts  of  Giacome,  Fuentes  drove  the  animals  over  and  through  the 
assailants,  in  spite  of  their  arrows  ;  and,  abandoning  the  rest  to  their  fate, 
carried  them  off  at  speed  across  the  plain.  Knowing  that  they  would  be 
nursued  by  the  Indians,  without  making  any  halt  except  to  shift  their 
saddles  to  other  horses,  they  drove  them  on  for  about  sixty  miles,  and  this 
morning  left  them  at  a  watering  place  on  the  trail  called  Agua  de  Tomaso. 
Without  giving  themselves  any  time  for  rest  they  hurried  on,  hoping  to 
meet  the  Spanish  caravan,  when  they  discovered  my  camp.  I  received 
them  kindly,  taking  them  into  my  own  mess,  and  promised  them  such  aid 
as  circumstances  might  put  it  in  my  power  to  give. 

Apr  a  25///. — We  left  the  river  abruptly  and,  turning  to  the  north,  re- 
;,'aincd  in  a  few  miles  the  main  trail  (which  had  left  the  river  sooner  than 
ourselves)  and  continued  our  way  across  a  lower  ridge  of  the  mountain, 
tiirou^li  a  miserable  tract  of  sand  and  gravel.  We  crossed  at  intervals  the 
broad  beds  of  dry  gullies,  where  in  the  season  of  rains  and  melting  snows 
ihere  would  be  brooks  or  rivulets  ;  and  at  one  of  these,  where  there  was 
no  indication  of  water,  were  several  freshly  dug  holes,  in  which  there  was 
•Aater  at  the  depth  of  two  feet.  These  holes  had  been  dug  by  the  wolves, 
v.iiose  ke(.'n  sense  of  smell  had  scented  the  water  under  the  dry  sand. 
I  hey  were  nice  little  wells,  narrow,  and  dug  straight  down,  and  we  got 
pleasant  water  out  of  them. 

The  country  had  now  assumed  the  character  of  an  elevated  and  moun- 
tainous desert ;  its  general  features  being  black,  rocky  ridges,  bald,  and 


I 


.III.  ■';.' 


H    V% 


i'l  I 


372 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN'  CHARLES  FREMOXT. 


il  M  l!:i 


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l-il 


■ '  ?    ' ' 


destitute  of  timber,  with  saiuly  basins  between.  Where  the  sides  ofthesr 
ridges  are  washed  by  gullies,  tlu:  jjlaiiis  below  are  strewed  witli  b(jd.s  01 
large  [)el)bles  or  rolled  stones,  destructive  to  our  soft-footed  animals,  accu,- 
tomed  to  the  grassy  plains  of  the  Sacramento  Valley.  Through  these 
sandy  basins  sometimes  struggled  a  scanty  stream,  or  occurred  a  hole  of 
water,  which  furnished  camping-grounds  for  travellers.  bVcciuentlv,  in  our 
journey  across,  snow  was  visible  on  the  surrounding  mountains  ;  but  their 
waters  rarely  reached  the  sandy  plain  below,  where  we  toiled  along,  op- 
pressed with  thirst  and  a  burning  sun. 

But  throughout  this  nakedness  of  sand  and  gravel  were  many  beauti- 
ful plants  and  llowering  shrubs,  which  occurred  in  many  new  species,  uui 
witli  greater  variety  than  we  had  been  accustomed  to  see  in  the  most 
luxuriant  prairie  countries;  this  was  a  peculiarii  '  of  this  desert,  llvn 
where  no  grass  would  take  root,  the  naked  sand  would  bloom  with  sonv 
rich  and  rare  ilower,  which  found  its  appro[)riate  home  in  the  arid  \\w\ 
barren  spot. 

Scattered  over  the  plain,  and  tolerably  abundant,  was  a  handsome  lew,!- 
niinous  shrub,  three  or  four  feet  high,  with  line  bright-purple  llowers.  It 
is  a  new  fysoralea,  and  occurred  frequently  henceforward  along  our  road, 

Ik'yond  the  first  ridge  our  road  bore  a  little  to  the  cast  of  north,  toward 
a  gap  in  a  higher  line  of  mountains  :  and,  after  travelling  about  twcnty-tive 
miles,  we  arrived  at  the  Ai^ua  dc  Toi/iaso — the  spring  where  the  horses 
had  been  left;  but,  as  we  expected,  they  were  gone.  A  brief  examination 
of  the  ground  convinced  us  that  they  had  been  driven  off  by  the  Indians. 
Carson  and  Gotley  volunteered  with  the  Mexican  to  pursue  them ;  anJ. 
well  moimted,  the  three  set  off  on  the  trail.  At  this  stopping-place  ther'.- 
were  a  few  bush(!s  anil  very  little  grass.  Its  water  was  a  pool;  but  near 
by  was  a  spring,  which  had  been  dug  out  by  Indians  or  travellers.  Its 
water  was  cool  —a  great  refreshment  to  us  under  a  burning  sun. 

In  the  evening  h'uentes  returned,  his  horse  having  failed  ;  I)ut  Carson 
and  Godey  had  continued  the  pursuit. 

I  observed  to-night  an  occultation  of  a'  Cancri,  at  the  dark  limb  ol  the 
moon,  which  gives  for  the  longitude  of  the  place  116"  23'  jS";  the  lati- 
tude, b)'  observation,  is  35'  13'  08".  From  Helvetia  to  this  place  the 
positions  along  the  intervening  line  are  laid  down  with  the  lon^^^itudes 
obtained  from  the  chronometer,  wdiich  appears  to  have  retained  its  rat:; 
remarkably  well  ;  but  henceforwaril,  to  the  end  of  the  joui-n(;y,  the  teu 
longitudes  given  are  absolute,  depending  upon  a  subsecpient  occnkati-n 
and  ecli])ses  of  the  satellites. 

In  the  tifternoon  of  the  next  day  a  war-whoop  was  heard,  such  as  In- 
dians make  when  returning  from  a  victorious  enterprise  ;  and  soon  Carson 
and  Godey  appeared,  driving  before  them  a  band  of  horses,  recognized  by 


ii  '',1 


:  our  road, 


SECOXn  EX PEnirrON— CARSON  and  GODP.Y'S  INDIAN  FIGffT.     373 

Fuciitcs  to  Ix;  part  of  those  they  h.ul  lost.  Two  bloody  scalps,  dangling 
I'rom  the  end  of  Godey's  giin,  announced  that  they  had  overtaken  the  In- 
dians as  well  as  the  horses. 

They  informed  us  that  after  Fuentes  left  them,  from  the  failuri;  of  his 
horse,  thcv  continued  the  pursuit  alone,  and  toward  nightfall  entered  the 
mountains,  into  which  the  trail  led.  After  sunset  the  moon  gave  light, 
and  they  followed  the  trail  by  moonshine  until  late  in  the  night,  when  it 
entered  a  narrow  detile  and  was  difficult  to  follow.  Afraid  of  losing  it  in 
the  ilarkness  of  the  defile,  they  tied  up  their  horses,  struck  no  fire,  and  lay 
down  to  sleep  in  silence  and  in  darkness.  Here  they  lay  from  midnight 
till  morning.  At  daylight  they  resumed  the  pursuit,  and  about  sunrise 
discovered  the  horses  ;  and,  immediately  dismounting  and  tying  up  their 
own,  thev  crept  cautiously  to  a  rising  ground  which  intervened,  from  the 
crest  of  which  they  perceived  the  encampment  of  four  lodges  close  by. 
Thev  proceeded  quietly,  and  had  got  within  thirty  or  forty  yards  of  their 
object,  when  a  movement  among  the  horses  discovered  them  to  the  In- 
dians:  giving  the  war-shout,  they  instantly  charged  into  the  camp,  regard- 
less ot  the  number  which  the  four  lodges  would  imply.  The  Indians  re- 
ceived them  with  a  fiight  of  arrows  shot  from  their  longbows,  one  of  which 
oassed  through  Godey's  shirt  collar,  barely  missing  the  neck  ;  our  men 
;ired  their  rifles  upon  a  steady  aim,  and  rushed  in.  Two  Indians  were 
stretched  on  the  ground,  fatally  w^ounded  ;  the  rest  fled,  except  a  lad 
who  was  captured.  The  scalps  of  the  fallen  were  instantly  stripped  off; 
but  in  the  process  one  of  them,  who  had  two  balls  through  his  body, 
sprang  to  his  feet,  the  blood  streaming  from  his  skinned  head,  and  uttered 
a  hideous  howl.  An  old  squaw,  possibly  his  mother,  stopped  and  looked 
back  from  the  mountain  side  she  was  climbing,  threatening  and  lament- 
ing. The  frightful  spectacle  appalled  the  stout  hearts  of  our  men  ;  but 
they  did  what  humanity  required,  and  quickly  terminated  the  agonies  of 
the  i^ory  savage. 

They  were  now  masters  of  the  camp,  which  was  a  pretty  little  recess  in 
the  mountain,  with  a  fine  spring,  and  apparently  safe  from  all  invasion. 
Great  preparations  had  been  made  to  feast  a  large  party,  for  it  was  a  very 
proper  place  for  a  rendezvous  and  for  the  celebration  of  such  orgies  as 
robbers  of  the  desert  would  delight  in.  Several  of  the  best  horses  had 
been  killed,  skinned,  and  cut  up  ;  for  the  Indians  living  in  mountains,  and 
only  coming  into  the  plains  to  rob  and  murder,  make  no  other  use  of  horses 
than  to  eat  them.  Large  earthen  vessels  were  on  the  fire,  boiling  and 
stewing^  the  horse-beef;  and  several  baskets,  containing  fif'/  ':^'-  si.xty  pairs 
ot  moccasins,  indicated  the  presence,  or  expectation,  of  a  consiaerable  party. 
1  hey  released  the  boy,  wdio  had  given  strong  evidence  of  the  stoicism,  or 
something  else,  of  the  savage  character,  in  commencing  his  breakfast  upon 


11 

i 


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>hi. 


374 


Mf.MO/RS  OF  J/r  IJlE~JOlL\'  CHARLES  FREMOX r. 


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■!      .I 


''If'     r- 1   --I 


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a  horse's  head  as  soon  as  lu:  found  \\v.  was  not  to  be  killed,  but  only  tied 
as  a  prisoner. 

Their  object  accomplished,  our  men  gathered  up  all  the  surviving  horses 
fifteen  in  numlier,  returned  upon  their  trail,  and  rejoined  us  at  our  camn  in 
the  afternoon  of  the  same  day.    They  had  ridden  about  one  hundred  milns 
in  the  pursuit  and  return,  and  all  in  thirty  hours.     The  time,  placfr,  object 
and  numbers  considered,  this  expedition  of  Carson  and  Godey  may  lie  con 
sidered  among  the  boldest  and  most  disinterested  which  the  annals  of  West- 
ern adventure,  so  full  of  daring  deeds,  can  present.     Two  men,  in  asavam' 
desert,  pursue  day  and  night  an  unknown  body  of  Indians  into  the  defiles 
of  an  unknown  mountain    -attack  them  on  sight,  without  counting  numbers 
— and  defeat  them   in  an  instant —and  for  what  ?     To  punish  the  robbers 
of  the  desert,  and  to  avenge  the  wrongs  of  Mexicans  whom  they  did  not 
know.    I  repeat :  it  was  Carson  and  Godey  who  did  this — the  former  an  Am 
erican,  born  in  the  Hoonslick  country  of  Missouri  ;   the  latter  a  Frenchman, 
born  in  St.  Louis  —and  both  trained  to  Western  enterprise  from  early  life. 

By  the  information  of  Fuentes,  we  had  now  to  make  a  long  stretch  of 
forty  or  fifty  miles  across  a  plain  which  lay  between  us  and  the  next  pos- 
sible camp  ;  antl  we  resumed  our  journey  late  in  the  afternoon,  with  the  in- 
tention of  travelling  through  the  night,  and  avoiding  the  excessive  heal  of 
the  day,  which  was  oppressive  to  our  animals.  For  several  hours  wo  trav- 
elled across  a  high  plain,  passing,  at  the  opposite  side,  through  a  canon  bv 
the  bed  of  a  creek  running  northwardly  into  a  small  lake  beyond,  and  both 
of  them  being  dry. 

We  had  a  warm,  moonshiny  night  ;  and,  travelling  directly  toward  the 
north  star,  we  journeyed  now  across  an  opc;n  plain  between  mouniaiu 
ridg(!s  ;  that  on  the  left  being  l)rokcn,  rocky,  and  bald,  according  to  the  in- 
formation of  Carson  and  God(.'\-,  who  had  entered  here  in  pursuit  of  the 
horses.  'I'he  plain  appeared  covered  principally  with  the  Zyo;ophyllum  Cal- 
iforKicnvi  already  mentioned  ;  and  the  line  of  our  road  was  marked  by  the 
skeletons  of  horses,  which  were  strewed  to  a  considerable  breadth  over  the 
plain.  We  were  afterward  always  warned  on  entering  one  of  these  lonq; 
stretches,  by  the  bones  of  ihest;  animals,  which  had  perished  before  they 
coidd  reach  the  water.  About  niitlnight  we  reached  a  considerable  stream- 
bed,  now  dry,  the  discharge  of  the  waters  of  this  basin  (when  it  collected 
any)  down  which  wc  descended  in  a  itortliiiicstcrly  direction.  The  creek- 
bed  was  overgrown  with  shrubbery,  and  several  hours  before  day  it  broLi;dit 
us  to  the  entrance  of  a  canon  where  we  found  water  and  encamped.  1  his 
word  canon  is  used  by  the  Spaniards  to  signify  a  defile  or  gorge  in  a  creek 
or  river,  where  high  rocks  press  in  close,  and  make  a  narrow  way,  usually 
difficult,  and  often  impossible  to  be  passed. 

In  the  morning  we  found  that  we  had  a  very  poor  camping-L^round:  a 


■|      'I       'A'  ^   ,-l    t'  '  - 


3i!S 


CARSON    AND  GODEY    RETURNING    FROM    INDIAN    FIGHT. 


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t>,! 

am 
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"II 
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lei 
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mi 
\vi 


SECOXn  F.XPF.niTION—FIND  CORPSES  OF  TWO  WHITE  MEN.     375 

swampy,  salty  spot,  with  a  littlo  long,  lunvholesome  grass  ;  and  the  water, 
which  rose  in  springs,  being  useful  only  to  wet  the  mouth,  but  entirely  too 
>alt  to  drink.  All  around  were  sand  and  rocks,  and  skeletons  of  horses 
which  had  not  been  able  to  fuid  support  for  their  lives.  As  we  were  about 
to  start  we  found,  at  the  distance  of  a  few  hundreil  yards,  among  the  hills 
to  the  southward,  a  sprin^^  of  tolerably  good  wati.T,  which  was  a  relief  to 
ourselves ;  but  the  place  was  too  poor  to  remain  long,  and  therefore  we 
continued  on  this  morning.  On  tlie  creek  were  thickets  of  Spirolobiuni 
oJorattim  (acacia)  in  bloom,  and  very  fragrant. 

Passing  through  the  cailon,  we  entered  another  sandy  basin,  through 
which  the  dry  stream-bed  continued  its  northwesterly  course,  in  which  di- 
rection appeared  a  high  snowy  mountain. 

We  travelled  through  a  barren  district,  where  a  heavy  gale  was  blowing 
about  the  loose  sand,  and,  after  a  ride  of  eight  miles,  reached  a  large  creek 
of  salt  and  bitter  water,  running  in  a  westerly  direction,  to  meet  the  stream- 
bed  we  had  left.  It  is  called  by  the  Spaniards  Aiitaro^osa — the  bitter  water 
of  the  desert.  Where  we  struck  it  the  stream  bends  ;  and  we  continued  in 
a  northerly  course  up  the  ravine  of  its  valley,  passing  on  the  way  a  fork 
from  the  right,  near  which  occurred  a  bed  of  plants,  con  jisting  of  a  remark- 
able new  genus  oicrucifertc. 

Gradually  ascending,  the  ravine  opened  into  a  green  valley,  where,  at 
the  foot  of  the  mountain,  were  springs  of  excellent  w^ater.  We  encamped 
amonij  groves  of  tlie  new  acacia,  and  there  was  an  abundance  of  good  grass 
for  the  animals. 

This  was  the  best  camping-ground  we  had  seen  since  we  struck  the 
Spanish  trail.     Tlu;  day's  journey  was  about  twelve  miles. 

Apiil  29///. — To-day  we  had  to  reach  the  ^Irchilcttc,  distant  seven 
miles,  where  the  Mexican  party  had  been  attacked  ;  and,  leaving  our  en- 
campment early,  we  traversed  a  part  of  the  desert,  the  most  sterile  and  re- 
pulsive that  we  had  yet  seen.  Its  prominent  features  were  dark  sierras, 
naked  and  dry  ;  on  the  plains  a  few  straggling  shrubs — among  them,  cactus 
of  several  varieties.  Fuentes  pointed  out  one,  called  by  the  Spaniards  bis- 
nada,  which  has  a  juicy  pulp,  slightly  acid,  and  is  eaten  by  the  traveller  to 
allay  thirst. 

Our  course  was  generally  north  ;  and,  after  crossing  an  intervening 
ridge,  we  descended  into  a  sandy  plain  or  basin,  in  the  middle  of  which  was 
the  grassy  spot,  with  its  springs  and  willow-bushes,  which  constitutes  a 
camping-place  in  the  desert,  and  is  called  the  Artliilclle.  Thci  dead  si- 
icnceofthe  place  was  ominous;  and,  galloping  rapidly  up,  we  found  only 
the  corpses  of  the  two  men  :  everything  else  was  gone.  They  were  naked, 
mutilated,  and  pierced  with  arrows.  Hernandez  had  evidently  fought,  antl 
with  desperation.     He  lay  in  advance  of  the  willow,  half-faced  tent,  which 


11 


m:^^ 

;i||i 

M 


■|! 


376 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  UFE—JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


\   I 


I       l!  i 


i  Ji 


\V.     ! 


'  K 


t     ;  ! 


shekel  ed  his  family,  as  if  he  had  come  out  to  meet  daiiLj^-er,  and  to  tc;pulse 
it  from  that  asylum.  One  of  his  hands  and  both  his  legs  haa  been  cut 
off.  Giacome,  who  was  a  larye  and  strong-lookincf  man,  was  lvini>-  in  one 
of  the  willow-shelters,  pierced  with  arrows.  Of  the  women  no  irace  could 
be  found,  and  it  was  evident  they  hail  been  carried  off  capti\c.  A  little 
iap-dog,  which  had  belonij-ed  to  Pablo's  mother,  remained  with  the  iluad 
bodies,  and  was  frantic  with  joy  at  seeing''  Pablo  ;  he,  poor  child,  was  fran- 
tic with  grief,  and  filled  the  air  with  lamentations  for  his  father  and  mother. 
Jlfi padre  ! — mi  viadrcl — was  his  incessant  cry.  When  we  bchtdd  this 
pitiable  sight,  and  pictured  to  ourselves  the  fate  of  the  two  women,  carried 
off  by  savages  so  brutal  and  so  loathsome,  all  compunction  for  the  scalped- 
alive  Indian  c(;ased  ;  and  we  rejoiced  that  Carson  and  Godey  had  been 
alive  to  give  so  useful  a  lesson  to  these  American  Arabs,  who  lie  in  wait  to 
murder  and  plunder  the  innocent  traveller. 

We  were  all  too  much  aiTected  by  the  sad  feelings  which  the  place  in- 
spired to  remain  an  unnecessary  moment.  The  night  we  were  obliged  to 
pass  there.  Early  in  the  morning  we  left  it,  having  first  written  a  brief  ac- 
count of  wdiat  had  happened,  and  put  it  la  the  cleU  of  a  pole  plant(xl  at  the 
spring,  that  the  approaching  caravan  might  learn  the  fate  of  their  friends. 
In  commemoration  of  the  event  we  called  the  place  ylgna  do  Hernandez— 
Hernandez'  Spring.      By  observation  its  latitude  was  35°  51'  21". 

April  2ptli. — We  continued  our  journey  over  a  district  similar  to  that 
of  the  day  before.  From  the  sandy  basin  in  which  was  the  spring  we  en- 
tered another  basin  of  the  same  character,  surrounded  everywdiere  by 
mountains.  Before  us  stretcnedahigh  range,  rising  still  higher  to  the  left, 
and  terminating  in  a  snowy  mountain. 

After  a  day's  march  of  twenty-four  miles  we  reached  at  evening  the 
bed  of  a  stream  from  which  the  water  had  disappeared  ;  a  little  only  re- 
mained in  holes,  which  we  increased  by  digging  ;  and  .about  a  miU'  above, 
the  stream,  not  yet  entirely  simk,  was  spread  out  over  the  sands,  aftordin:,' 
a  little  water  for  the  animals.  The  stream  came  out  of  the  mountains  on 
the  left,  very  slightly  wooded  with  cotton-wood,  willow,  and  acacia,  and  a 
few  dwarf  oaks  ;  and  grass  was  nearly  as  scarce  as  water.  A  plant  with 
showy  yellow  flowers  {Stanlcya  i)itci^ri folia)  occurred  abmuIantU'  :U  \\\- 
tervals  for  the  last  two  days,  and  Eriogontim  iiijlatiim  was  among  the  char- 
acteristic plants. 

Alay  \st.  -The  air  is  rough,  and  overcoats  pleasant.  The  sky  is  blue, 
and  the  day  bright.  Our  road  was  over  a  plain,  toward  the  loot  of  the 
mountain  ;  ZvQofliyllnui  Califoruicum,  now  in  bloom  with  a  small  yellow 
flower,  is  characteristic  of  the  country  ;  and  .acti  were  very  abundant,  and 
in  rich  fresh  bloom,  which  wonderfully  ornaments  this  poor  con  itrv. 

We  encamped  at  a  spring-  in  the  pass  which  had  been  the  site  of  an  oiu 


NT. 

nd  to  repulse 
huvi  been  cut 
s  lying  ill  one 
lo  trace  coukl 
:ive.  A  little 
,vith  th(;  (lead 
lilcl,  was  fran- 
T  and  mother, 
e  beheld  this 
omen,  carried 
)r  the  scalped- 
dcy  had  been 

0  lie  in  wait  tu 

1  the  place  in- 
cre  oblij^ed  to 
ttcn  a  brief  ac- 

plant(;d  at  the 
f  their  friends. 
'  Hernandez- 

'   2l". 

similar  to  that 
sprins,r  we  en- 
verywdiere  by 
her  to  the  left, 

t  evening  the 
little  only  re- 
a  mil>'  above, 

Liids,  affording;- 
mountains  on 
acacia,  anil  a 
A  plant  with 

mdantly  at  in- 

long-  the  char- 


le  sky  is  blue, 
u>  foot  of  the 
^  small  yellow 
ibundant,  ami 
:ouitrv. 
site  of  an  old 


d 


It 


:!li  .    ,  h 


i  F' 


[i  -!•■ 


^'•::1:| 


' :  ii 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— ANOTHER  DRY  ''JORNADA." 


377 


village ;  here  we  found  excellent  grass,  but  very  little  water.  We  dug  out 
the  old  spring,  and  watered  some  of  our  animals.  The  mountain  here  was 
woodetl  very  slightly  with  the  nut-pine,  cedars,  and  a  dwarf  species  of  oak; 
and  among  the  shrubs  were  Purshia  tridcntata,  Artemisia,  and  Ephedra 
onidcntalis.  The  numerous  shrubs  which  constitute  the  vegetation  of  the 
plains  ai'(;  now  in  bloom,  with  flowers  of  white,  yellow,  red,  and  purple. 
The  continual  rocks,  and  want  of  water  and  grass,  begin  to  be  very  hard 
on  our  mules  and  horses  ;  but  the  principal  loss  is  occasioned  by  their 
crippled  feet,  the  greater  part  of  those  left  being  in  excellent  order,  and 
■icarcely  a  day  [)asses  without  some  loss  ;  and,  one  by  one,  Fuentes  horses 
are  constantly  dropping  behind.  Whenever  they  give  out  he  dismounts, 
a;i'l  cuts  off  their  tails  and  manes  to  make  saddle  girths  ;  the  last  advan- 
u.'e  one  can  gain  from  them. 

The  next  day,  in  a  short  but  rough  ride  of  twelve  miles,  we  crossed 
the  mountain  ;  and,  descending  to  a  small  valley-plain,  encamped  at  the 
loot  of  the  ridge,  on  the  bed  of  a  creek,  where  we  found  good  grass  in 
sufficient  quantity,  and  abundance  of  water  in  holes.  The  ridge  is  ex- 
tremelv  rugged  and  broken,  presenting  on  this  side  a  continued  precipice, 
and  prob;!l)ly  affords  very  few  passes.  Many  Digger  tracks  are  seen  around 
i;s.  but  no  Indians  were  visible. 

May  3^/. — After  a  day's  journey  of  eighteen  miles,  in  a  northeasterly 
direction,  we  encamped  in  the  midst  of  another  very  large  basin,  at  a 
camping-ground  called  Zaj-  Vegas — a  term  wdiich  the  Spaniards  use  to  sig- 
nify fertile  or  marshy  plains,  in  contradistinction  to  llanos,  which  they  ap- 
ply to  dry  and  sterile  plains.  Two  narrow  streams  of  clear  water,  four  or 
live  feet  deep,  sjush  suddenly,  with  a  quick  current,  from  two  singularly 
larc;e  springs  ;  tliese,  and  other  waters  of  the  basin,  pass  out  in  a  gap  to 
tile  eastward.  The  taste  of  the  water  is  good,  but  rather  too  warm  to  be 
a^Treeable  :  the  temperature  being  71°  in  the  one  and  73°  in  the  other. 
Ihey,  however,  afforded  a  delightful  bathing-place. 

May  i^lh. — We  started  this  morning  earlier  than  usual,  travelling  in  a 
northeasterly  direction  across  the  plain.  The  new  acacia  {^Spirolobium 
odoratuni)  has  now  become  the  characteristic  tree  of  the  country  ;  it  is  in 
Ijloom,  and  its  blossoms  are  very  fragrant.  'Idie  day  was  still,  and  the 
!vat,  vhich  soon  became  very  oppressive,  appeared  to  bring  out  strongly 
;lie  rcfn;shing  scent  of  the  zygoph)  llaceous  shrubs  antl  the  sweet  perfume 
ot  die  acacia.  The  snowy  ridge  we  had  just  crossed  looked  out  conspicu- 
ously in  the  northwest.  In  at  out  five  hours'  ride  we  crossed  a  gap  in  the 
surrounding  ridge,  and  the  appearance  of  skeletons  of  horses  very  soon 
^varned  us  that  we  were  engaged  in  another  dry  jovnada,  which  proved 
tlu:  lonirest  we  had  made  in  all  our  journey — between  fifty  and  sixty  miles 
without  a  drt)p  uf  water. 


'  I 


378 


MEiMOIRS  OF  MY  IJFE-JOIIN  CHARLES  FRilMONT. 


*    ■'■'■: 


W  !1 


(i 


ill, 


I  ^ 


1  !' 


Travellers  through  countries  affording  water  and  timber  can  have  no 
conception  of  our  intolerable  thirst  while  journeying  over  the  hot  yellow 
sands  of  this  elevated  country,  where  the  heated  air  seems  to  be  entirelv 
deprived  of  moisture.  We  ate  occasionally  the  bisnada,  and  moistened 
our  mouths  with  the  acid  of  the  sour  dock  {Riimex  venosus).  Hourly  ex- 
pecting to  find  water,  we  continued  to  press  on  until  toward  midnio-ht,  when 
after  a  hard  and  uninterrupted  march  of  sixteen  hours,  our  wild  mules  bei^an 
running  ahead ;  and  in  a  mile  or  two  we  came  to  a  bold  running  stream- 
so  keen  is  the  sense  of  that  animal,  in  these  desert  regions,  in  scentin"-  at 
a  distance  this  necessary  of  life. 

According  to  the  information  we  had  received  Sevier  River  was  a  tribu- 
tary of  the  Colorado  ;  and  this,  accordingly,  should  have  been  one  of  its 
affluents.  It  proved  to  be  the  Rio  de  los  Angeles  (River  of  the  Angels)— 
a  branch  of  the  Rio  Virgcn  (River  of  the  Virgin). 

Alay  ^th. — On  account  of  our  animals,  it  was  necessary  to  remain  to- 
day at  this  place.  Indians  crowded  numerously  around  us  in  the  morning : 
and  we  were  obliged  to  keep  arms  in  hand  all  day,  to  keep  them  out  of 
the  camp.  They  began  to  surround  the  horses,  which,  for  the  convenience 
of  grass,  we  were  guarding  a  little  above,  on  the  river.  These  were  im- 
mediately driven  in,  and  kept  close  to  the  camp. 

In  the  darkness  of  the  night  we  had  made  a  very  bad  encampment,  our 
fires  being  commanded  by  a  rocky  bluff  within  fifty  yards  ;  but,  notwith- 
standing, we  had  the  river  and  small  thickets  of  willows  on  the  other  sjilc 
Several  times  during  the  day  the  camp  was  insulted  by  the  Indians;  but 
peace  being  our  object,  I  kept  simply  on  the  defensive.  Some  of  the  In- 
dians were  on  the  bottoms,  and  others  haranguing  us  from  the  bluffs ;  anJ 
they  were  scattered  in  every  direction  over  the  hills.  Their  languacje  beini( 
probably  a  dialect  of  the  Utah,  with  the  aid  of  signs  some  of  our  peo[)k' 
could  comprehend  them  very  well.  They  were  the  same  people  who  hail 
murdered  the   Mexicans;  and  toward  us  their  disposition  was  ev 


ulcntiv 


',• 


*;■; 


hostile,  nor  were  we  well  disposed  toward  them.  They  were  barefooted 
and  nearly  naked  ;  their  hair  gathered  up  into  a  knot  behind  ;  and  with  his 
bow  each  man  carrieil  a  quiver  with  thirty  or  forty  arrows,  partially  drawn 
out.  Besides  these,  each  held  in  his  hand  two  or  three  arrows  for  instant 
service.  Their  arrows  are  barbed  with  a  very  clear  translucent  stone,  a 
species  of  opal,  nearly  as  hard  as  the  diamond  ;  and,  shot  from  their  long 
bows,  are  almost  as  effective  as  a  gunshot.  In  these  Indians  1  was  torcihly 
struck  by  an  expression  of  countenance  resembling  that  in  a  beast  of  prey: 
and  all  their  actions  are  those  of  wild  animals,  joined  to  the  rest' jss  mo- 
tion of  the  eye  there  is  a  want  of  mind — an  abse-nce  of  thought-— and  an 
action  wholly  by  impulse,  strongly  expressed,  and  which  constantly  recalls 
the  similarity. 


SECOND  EXPEDITION—SURROUAWED  B  Y  SA I 'A  GES. 


379 


A  man  who  appeared  to  be  a  chief,  with  two  or  three  others,  forced  him- 
self into  camp,  bringing  with  him  his  arms,  in  spite  of  my  orders  to  the  con- 
trary. When  shown  our  weapons,  he  bored  his  ears  with  his  fingers,  and 
said  he  could  not  hear.  "  Why,"  said  he,  "  there  are  none  of  you." 
Counting  the  people  around  the  camp,  and  including  in  the  number  a  mule 
which  was  being  shod,  he  made  out  twenty-two.  "  So  many,"  said  he, 
siiowing  the  number,  "  and  we  -we  are  a  great  many ;  "  and  he  pointed 
to  the  hills  and  mountains  round  about.  "  If  you  have  your  arms,"  said  he, 
twanging  his  bow,  "  we  have  these."  I  had  some  difficulty  in  restraining 
the  people,  particularly  Carson,  who  felt  an  insult  of  this  kind  as  much  as 
if  it  had  been  given  by  a  more  responsible  being.  "Don't  say  that,  old 
man,"  said  he;  "  don't  you  say  that — your  life's  in  danger" — speaking  in 
"ood  English ;  and  probably  the  old  man  was  nearer  to  his  end  than  he 
will  be  before  he  meets  it. 

Several  animals  had  been  necessarily  left  behind  near  the  camp  last 
night;  and  early  in  the  morning,  before  the  Indians  made  their  appearance, 
several  men  were  sent  to  bring  them  in.  When  I  was  beginning  to  be  un- 
easy at  their  absence,  they  returned  with  information  that  the  animsls  had 
been  driven  off  from  the  trail  by  Indians  ;  and,  having  followed  the  tracks 
a  short  distance,  they  found  them  cut  u])  and  spread  out  upon  bushes. 

In  the  evening  I  gave  a  fatigued  horse  to  some  of  the  Indians  for  a 
fast;  and  the  village  which  carried  him  off  refused  to  share  with  the 
odiers,  who  made  loud  complaints  tVom  the  rocks  of  the  partial  distribution. 
Many  of  these  Indians  had  long  sticks,  hooked  at  the  end,  which  they  used 
in  hauling  out  lizards  and  other  small  animals  from  their  hoU.s.  During 
1  u;  day  they  occasionally  roasted  and  ate  lizards  at  our  fires.  These  belong 
til  the  people  who  are  generally  known  imder  the  name  of  Diggers  ;  and  to 
these  I  have  more  particularly  had  reference  when  occasionally  speaking  of 
a  people  whose  sole  occupation  is  to  procure  food  sufficient  to  support  ex- 
istence. 

The  formation  here  consists  of  fine  yellow  sandstone,  alternating  with  a 
coarse  conglomerate,  in  which  tlK;  stones  are  from  the  size  of  ordinary 
gravel  to  six  or  eight  inches  in  diameter.  This  is  the  formation  which  ren- 
ders the  surface  of  the  country  so  rocky,  and  give:,  iis  now  a  road  alter- 
nately of  loose,  heavy  sands,  and  rolled  stones,  which  cripple  the  animals 
h1  a  most  extraordinary  manner. 

On  the  following  morning  we  left  the  A'A?  t/e  hs  Angeles,  and  continued 
our  way  through  the  same  desolate  and  revolting  country,  where  lizards 
were  the  only  animal,  and  the  tracks  of  the  lizard-eaters  the  principal  sign 
ot  human  beings.  After  twenty  miles'  march  through  a  road  of  hills  and 
heavy  sands  we  reached  the  most  dreary  river  I  have  ever  seen-  -a  deep, 
rapid  stream,  almost  a  torrent,  passing  swiftly  by  and  roaring  against  ob- 


TPfiHTTT 


■  ■>  '■ 


M   >^V^ 


[    't!l'Mf 


/:fi 


iU.-.  .. 


S; 


'  h  i  ^^  -.;  la 


■I  ■■ 


■A  -  .  '      i   ■*     ■'■  a. 


1 1« 


:!:  :p' 


i'.  1 ' 


i  I. 


ilii  I 


380 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE—JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


structions.  The  banks  were  wooded  with  w;illow,  acacia,  and  a  frequent 
plant  of  the  country  already  mentioned  {Garrya  clllptica),  growing  in 
thickets,  resembling  willow,  and  bearing  a  small  pink  flower. 

Crossing  it,  we  encamped  on  the  left  bank,  where  we  found  a  very  little 
grass.  Our  three  remaining  steers,  being  entirely  given  out,  were  killed 
here.  By  the  boiling  point  the  elevation  of  the  river  here  is  four  thousan.l 
and  sixty  feet  ;  and  latitude,  by  observation,  36°  41'  2,0'  •  The  stream  \v;:s 
running  toward  the  southwest,  and  appeared  to  come  from  a  snowy  moun- 
tain in  the  north.  It  proved  to  be  the  Rio  Virgca — a  tributary  to  the 
Colorado. 

Indians  appeared  in  bands  on  the  hills,  but  did  not  come  into  camp. 
For  several  days  we  continued  our  journey  up  the  river,  the  bottoms  of 
which  were  thickly  overgrown  with  various  kinds  of  brush ;  and  the  samiv 
soil  was  absolutely  covered  with  the  tracks  of  Diggers,  who  followed  us 
stealthily,  like  a  band  of  wolves  ;  and  we  had  no  opportunity  to  leave  he- 
hind,  even  for  a  few  hours,  the  tired  animals,  in  order  that  they  might  be 
brought  into  camp  after  a  little  repose.  .\  horse  or  mule  left  behind  v.as 
taken  off  in  a  moment. 

On  the  evening  of  the  8th,  having  travelled  twenty-eight  miles  up  the 
river  from  our  first  encampment  on  it,  we  encamped  at  a  litde  grass-plat 
where  a  spring  of  cool  water  issued  from  the  bluff.  On  the  opposite  side 
was  a  grove  of  cotton-woods  at  the  mouth  of  a  fork,  which  here  enters  the 
river.  On  either  side,  the  valley  is  bounded  by  ranges  of  mountains,  every- 
where high,  rocky,  and  broken.  The  caravan  road  was  lost  and  scattered 
in  the  sandy  country,  and  we  had  been  following  an  Indian  trail  up  the 
river.  The  hunters  the  next  day  were  sent  out  to  reconnoitre,  and  in  the 
meantime  we  moved  about  a  mile  farther  up,  where  we  found  a  good  little 
patch  of  grass.  There  being  only  sufficient  gi-ass  for  the  night,  the  horses 
were  sent  with  a  strong  guard  in  charge  of  Tabeau  to  a  neighboring  hollow, 
where  they  might  pasture  during  the  clay  ;  and  to  be  ready  in  case  the  In- 
dians should  make  any  attempt  on  the  animals,  several  of  the  best  horses 
were  picketed  at  the  camp.  In  a  few  hours  the  hunters  returned,  havin^^' 
found  a  convenient  ford  in  the  river  and  discovered  the  Spanish  trail  on 
the  other  side. 

I  had  been  engaged  in  arranging  plants  ;  and,  fatigued  with  the  heat  ot 
the  day,  I  fell  asleep  in  the  ;;fternoon  and  did  not  awake  until  sundown. 
Presently  Carson  came  to  me  and  reported  that  Tabeau,  who  early  i"  the 
day  had  left  his  post,  and,  without  my  knowledge,  rotle  back  to  the  camp 
we  had  left  in  search  of  a  lame  mule,  had  not  returned.  While  we  were 
speaking  a  smoke  rose  suddenly  from  the  cotton-wood  grove  below,  whicli 
plainly  told  us  what  had  befallen  him  ;  it  was  raised  to  inform  the  surround- 
ing Indians  that  a  blow  had  been  struck,  and  to  tell  them  to  be  on  their 


a  frequent 
jrowing  in 

a  very  little 
^vere  killed 
ir  thousai:.! 
stream  \vi;s 
owy  moun- 
itary  to  the 

into  camp. 

bottoms  (if 
il  the  samiy 
followed  i;s 
to  leave  he- 
ey  might  he 

behind  was 

miles  up  the 

2  grass-plat 

ipposite  side 

e  enters  the 

lins,  every- 

scattered 

ail  up  the 

and  ill  the 

good  litt;L' 

the  horser, 

ng  hollow, 

ise  the  lii- 

)est  horses 

ned,  havin-- 

Ush  trail  or. 

the  heat  ni 
sundown. 
_'arly  in  the 
0  the  camp 
le  we  were 
elow,  whicli 
X-  surroimd- 
be  on  their 


SECOND  EXPEDITION- TABEAU  KILLED. 


381 


o-uard.  Carson,  with  several  men  well  mounted,  was  instantly  sent  clown 
the  river,  but  returned  in  the  nijjht  without  tidings  of  the  missing  man. 
Jjiev  went  to  the  camp  we  had  left,  but  neither  he  nor  the  mule  was  there. 
Searching  down  the  river,  they  found  the  tracks  of  the  mule,  evidently 
driven  along  by  Indians,  whose  tracks  were  on  each  side  of  those  made  by 
the  animal.  After  going  several  miles  they  came  to  the  mule  itself,  stuiul- 
i;i  r  ill  some  bushes,  mortally  wounded  in  the  side  by  an  arrow,  and  left  to 
die,  that  it  might  be  afterwards  butchered  for  food.  They  also  found,  in 
another  place,  as  they  were  hunting  about  on  the  ground  for  Tabeau's 
tracks,  something  that  looked  like  a  little  puddle  of  blood,  but  which  the 
darkness  prevented  them  from  verifying.  With  these  details  they  returned 
to  our  camp,  and  their  report  sadtlened  all  our  hearts. 

May  loth. — This  morning,  as  soon  as  there  was  light  enough  to  follow 
tracks,  I  set  out  myself  with  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  and  several  men  in  search  of 
Tabeau.  We  went  to  the  spot  where  the  appearance  of  puddled  blood 
had  been  seen  ;  and  this,  we  saw  at  once,  had  been  the  place  where  he 
fell  and  died.  Blood  upon  the  leaves  and  beaten-down  bushes  showed 
that  he  had  got  his  wound  about  twenty  paces  from  where  he  fell,  and  that 
lie  had  struggled  for  his  life.  He  had  probably  been  shot  through  the 
lungs  with  an  arrow.  From  the  place  where  he  lay  and  bled,  it  could  be 
seen  that  he  had  been  dragged  to  the  bank  of  the  river,  and  thrown  into  it. 
Xo  vestige  of  what  had  belonged  to  him  could  be  found,  except  a  fragment 
of  his  horse  equipment.  Horse,  gun,  clothes — all  became  the  prey  of  these 
.\rabs  of  the  New  World. 

Tabeau  had  been  one  of  our  best  men,  and  his  unhappy  death  spread 
a  gloom  over  our  party.  Men  who  have  gone  through  such  dangers  and 
siifterings  as  we  had  seen  become  like  brothers,  and  feel  each  other's  loss. 
To  defend  and  avenge  each  other  is  the  deep  feeling  of  all.  We  wished 
to  avenge  his  death  ;  but  the  condition  of  our  horses,  languishing  for  grass 
and  repose,  forbade  an  e.xpedition  into  unknown  mountains.  We  knew  the 
tribe  who  had  done  the  mischief — the  same  which  had  been  insulting  our 
camp.  They  knew  what  they  deserved,  and  had  the  discretion  to  show 
themselves  to  us  no  more.  The  day  before,  they  infested  our  camp  ;  now, 
not  one  appeared  ;  nor  did  we  ever  afterward  see  but  m  who  even  be- 
longed to  the  same  tribe,  and  he  at  a  distance. 

^ur  camp  was  in  a  basin  below  ;i  deep  carton  a  gap  of  tv.o  thousand 
iiet  deep  in  the  mountain  -through  which  the  Rio  I'/rj^rn  passes,  and 
where  no  man  or  beast  could  follow  it.  The  Spanish  trail,  which  v/e  had 
Inst  in  the  sands  of  the  basin,  was  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river.  W'e 
crossed  over  to  it,  and  followed  it  northwardl\-  toward  a  gap  which  was 
visible  in  the  mountain.  Wc:  approached  it  1)\-  a  detlle,  rendered  difficult 
tor  our  bare-footed  animals  by  the  rocks  strewed  along  it;  and  here  the 


'!l^ 


F't.i^.lii 

•fr 


I<  I 


I  I 


<  I 


1 1 


il  i 


1! 


I.       if 


1 

'^1 

i 

1     i 
1 

1     ' 

H 

38« 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  I.TFE—JOHN  CITARLES  FREMONT. 


country  changed  its  character.  F"rom  the  time  we  entered  the  desert,  the 
mountains  had  been  bald  and  rocky  ;  here  they  began  to  be  wooded  witli 
cedar  and  pine,  and  clusters  of  trees  gave  shelter  to  birds — a  new  and  wd. 
come  sight — which  could  not  have  lived  in  the  desert  we  had  passed. 

Descending  a  long  hollow,  toward  the  narrow  valley  of  a  stream,  we 
saw  before  us  a  snowy  mountain,  far  beyond  which  appeared  another,  more 
lofty  still.  Good  bunch  grass  began  to  appear  on  the  hill-sides,  and  here 
we  found  a  singular  variety  of  interesting  shrubs.  The  changed  appear- 
ance of  the  country  infused  among  our  peo;ile  a  more  lively  spirit,  which 
was  heightened  by  finding  at  evening  a  halting-place  of  very  good  orass 
on  the  clear  waters  of  the  Santa  Clara  Fork  of  the  Rio  Vivircn. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

Wiiikcr's  Courage  and  Shrewdness — Biideaii  Killed — Back  on  Utah  Lake — A  Brief 
Smiimiuv— \Vc  face  Eiistward  again— Uintah  Fort — Fuentcs  lassos  a  Grizzly — 
A  Xarruw  Kscapc — Joined  by  a  Party  of  'J'rappcrs — Fight  between  Utahs  and 
Arapaiiocs — iNearing  Home — Home  again. 


Mil)'  wth. — The  morning  wa.s  cloudy  and  quite  cool,  with  a  shower  of 
rain— the  first  we  have  had  since  entering  the  desert,  a  period  of  twenty- 
seven  days ;  and  we  seem  to  have  entered  a  different  climate,  with  the 
usual  weather  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Our  march  to-day  was  very  la- 
borious, over  very  broken  ground,  along  the  Santa  Clara  River ;  but  then 
the  country  is  no  longer  so  distressingly  desolate. 

The  stream  is  prettily  wooded  with  sweet  cotton-wood  trees — some  of 
them  of  large  size  ;  and  on  the  hills,  where  the  nut-pine  is  often  seen,  a 
^'ood  and  wholesome  grass  occurs  frequently.  This  cotton-wood,  which  is 
now  in  fruit,  is  of  a  tlifferent  species  from  any  in  Michau.x's  "  Sylva."  Heavy 
liark  clouds  covered  the  sky  in  the  evening,  and  a  cold  wind  sprang  up, 
inakini^-  fires  and  overcoats  comfortable. 

May  12///.—  A  little  above  our  encampment  the  river  forked  ;  and  we 
continued  up  the  right-hand  branch,  gradually  ascending  toward  the  sum- 
mit of  the  mountain.  As  we  rose  toward  the  head  of  the  creek  the  snow)- 
moiMitain  on  our  right  showed  out  handsomely — high,  and  rugged  w'lh 
precipices,  and  covered  with  snow  for  about  two  thousand  feet  from  ilieir 
summits  down. 

Our  animals  were  somewhat  repaid  for  their  hard  marches  by  an  ex- 
cellent camping-ground  on  the  summit  of  the  ridge,  which  forms  here  the 
dividing  chain  lietween  the  waters  of  the  7??'^^  Viroc7i,  which  goes  south 
to  tlie  Colorado,  and  those  of  Sevier  River,  ilowing  northwardly,  and  be- 
loni^in^- 10  the  Great  Basin.  We  considered  ourselves  as  crossing  the 
rim  oi  the  basin  ;  and,  entering  it  at  this  point,  we  found  here  an  exten- 
sive mountain  meadow,  rich  in  bunch  grass,  and  fresh  with  numerous 
springs  of  clear  water,  all  refreshing  and  delightful  to  look  upon.  It  was, 
111  fact,  those  Las  Vestas  t!c  Santa  Clara,  which  had  been  so  long  presented 
to  us  as  the  terminating  pomt  ol  the  desert,  and  where  the  annual  caravan 
Irom  California  to  New  Mexico  halted  and  recruited  for  some  weeks.     It 


f-'i !;:  I-    . 


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MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE—JOIIM  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


was  a  very  suitable  place  to  recover  iVoin  the  fatigue  and  exhaustion  of  a 
month's  suffering  in  the  hot  and  sterile  desert.  The  meadow  was  aijoiu  a 
mile  wide  and  some  ten  miles  long,  bordered  by  grassy  hills  and  mour.- 
tains — some  of  the  latter  rising  two  thousand  feet,  and  white  with  suijw 
down  to  the  level  of  the  vCi^as.  Its  elevation  above  the  sea  was  fiv,- 
thousand  two  hundred  and  eighty  feet ;  latitude,  by  observation,  37  j,,' 
28"  ;  and  its  distance  from  where  we  lirst  struck  the  Spanisli  trail  about 
four  hundred  miles. 


Counting  from  the  time  we  reached  the  desert,  and  beiran  to 


kirt, 


our  descent  from  Walker's  Pass  in  the  Sierra  Nevada,  we  had  travdlfjil 
five  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  occupying  twenty-seven  days,  in  that  in- 
hospitable region.  In  passing  before  the  great  caravan  we  had  the  ad- 
vantage of  finding  more  grass,  but  the  disadvantage  of  finding  also  thr 
marauding  savages  who  had  gathered  down  upon  the  trail,  wailinc  the 
approach  of  that  prey.  This  greatly  increased  our  labors,  besides  costing 
us  the  life  of  an  excellent  man.  We  had  to  move  all  day  in  a  state  of 
watch  and  prepared  for  combat-  scf)uts  and  flankers  out,  a  front  and  rear 
division  of  our  men,  and  baggage  animals  in  the  centre.  At  ni^^ht,  camp- 
duty  was  severe.  Those  who  had  toiled  all  day  had  to  guard,  by  turns, 
the  camp  and  the  horses  all  night.  Frequently  one-third  of  the  whole 
party  were  on  guard  at  once  ;  and  nothing  but  this  vigilance  saved  us  from 
attack.  We  were  constantly  dogged  by  bands,  and  even  whole  tribes  of 
the  marauders  ;  and  although  Tabeau  was  killed,  and  our  camp  infested 
and  insulted  by  some,  while  swarms  of  them  remained  on  the  hills  and 
mountain  sides,  there  was  manifestly  a  consultation  and  calculation  goini;- 
on  to  decide  the  question  of  attacking  us. 

Having  reached  the  resting-place  of  the  Vegas  dc  Santa  Clara,  we  had 
complete  relief  from  the  heat  and  privations  of  the  desert,  and  some  relaxa- 
tion from  the  severity  of  camp-dut)-.  Some  relaxation,  and  relaxation  only 
—for  camp-guards,  horse-guards,  and  scouts  are  indispensable  fro:'.i  the 
time  of  leaving  the  frontiers  of  Missouri  until  we  return  to  them. 

After  we  left  the  Vegas  we  had  the  gratification  to  be  joined  hythe  fa- 
mous hunter  and  trapper,  Mr.  Joseph  Walker,  whom  I  have  belore  men- 
tioned, and  who  now  became  our  guide.  I  le  had  left  California  with  the 
great  caravan  ;  and  perceiving,  from  the  signs  along  the  trail,  that  there 
was  a  party  of  whites  ahead,  which  he  judged  to  be  mine,  he  detaclu'd  him- 
self from  the  caravan  with  eight  men  (Americans),  and  ran  the  gumtlet  ri 
the  desert  robbers,  killing  two,  and  getting  some  of  the  horses  wounded, 
and  succeeded  in  overtaking  us.  Nothing  but  his  great  knowledge  ol  tiie 
country,  great  courage  and  presence  of  mind,  and  good  rifies,  could  have 
brt.)ught  him  safe  from  such  a  perilous  enterprise. 

May  x^th. — We  remained  one  day  at  this  noted  place  of  rest  and  re- 


T. 


SECOyP  I.XPEDiriON—WA I.K i:ir S  cor KAi, J:  AM)  SJlRlAinXKSS.     385 


laustion  of  a 
was  aboiii  .1 

'  ami  iiKr.ii',- 
-  with  snow 
ea  was  tu^- 
lion,  37  2  r 
.  trail  aljout 

1  to  skirt,  at 
ad  travijllfji! 

in  that  in- 
had  the  ail- 
ing also  thi' 

waiting  the 
iitles  cosiiii;; 
in  a  stati;  of 
ont  and  rear 
ni^jht,  camp- 
rd,  by  turns, 
jf  the  whole 
xvi'd  us  froiii 
lole  tribes  of 
imp  infestcl 

e  hills  and 

ition  goins{ 

ya,  we  had 

some  relaxa- 

xalion  only 

c  fro.'.i  the 

1. 

d  I))-  the  fa- 
)(.;kire  nien- 
11a  witli  the 
that  there 
tachcil  him- 
gtiuntlet  I : 
woun.ied, 
edge  of  the 
could  li.i'>^' 

est  and  re- 


freshment ;  and,  resuming  our  progress  in  a  uorthcastwardiy  dir(;ctioii,  we 
descended  into  a  broad  valley,  the  water  of  which  is  tributary  to  Sevier 
Lake.  The  next  day  we  came  in  sight  of  the  W'ah-satch  range  of  moun- 
tains on  the  right,  white  with  snow,  ani.1  here  forming  the  southeast  part  of 
the  Great  Iiasin.  Sevier  Lake,  upon  the  waters  of  which  we  now  wen-, 
belonged  to  the  system  of  lakes  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  basin — of  which 
the  Great  Salt  Lake  and  its  southern  limb,  the  Ltah  Lake,  were  the  prin- 
cipal— toward  the  region  of  which  we  were  now  approaching.  We  trav- 
elled for  several  days  in  this  tlirection,  within  the  rim  of  the  Oreat  P)asin, 
crossing  little  streams  which  bore  to  the  left  for  Sevier  Lake  ;  and  plainly 
seeing,  b)'  the  changed  aspect  of  the  country,  that  we  were  entirely  clear 
of  the  iK.'sert  and  approaching  the  regions  which  appertained  to  the  system 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  We  met,  in  this  travcTse,  a  few  mounted  L'tah 
Indians,  in  advance  of  their  main  body,  watching  the  approach  of  the  great 
caravan. 

May  \6t/i. — We  reached  a  small  salt  lake,  about  seven  miles  long  and 
one  broad,  at  the  northern  extremity  of  which  we  encamped  for  the  night. 
This  little  lake,  which  well  merits  its  characteristic  name,  lies  immediately 
at  the  base  of  the  Wah-satch  range,  and  nearly  opposite  a  gap  in  that  chain 
of  mountains  through  which  the  S[)anish  trail  passes;  and  which,  again 
falling  upon  the  waters  of  the  Colorado,  and  crossing  the  ri\cr,  [yroreeds 
over  a  mountainous  country  to  Santa  Fe. 

May  ijth. — .\fter  four  hundred  and  forty  miles  of  travelling  on  a  trail 
which  served  for  a  road,  we  again  found  ourselves  under  the  necessity  of 
exploring  a  track  through  the  wilderness.  The  Spanish  trail  had  borne  off 
to  the  southeast,  crossing  the  W'ah-satch  range.  Our  course  letl  to  the 
northeast,  along  the  foot  of  that  range,  and  leaving  it  on  the  right.  The 
mountain  presented  itself  to  us  under  the  form  of  several  ridges,  rising  one 
above  the  other,  rocky,  and  woodetl  with  pine  and  cetku-  ;  the  last  ridge 
covered  with  '■■tiow.  Sevier  River,  flowing  northwardly  to  the  lake  of  the 
same  name,  collects  i'--  principal  waters  from  this  section  of  the  Wah-s;itch 
chain. 

We  had  now  entered  a  region  of  great  pastoral  promise,  abounding 
with  fnie  streams  ;  the  rich  bunch  grass — soil  that  would  produce  wheat, 
and  indigenous  flax — ofrowincf  as  if  it  had  been  sown.  Consistent  with  the 
general  character  of  its  bordering  mountains,  this  fertility  of  scil  ;ukI  vege- 
tation does  not  extend  far  into  the  Great  Basin.  Air.  Joseph  Walker,  our 
1,'iiide,  and  wdio  has  more  knowledge  of  these  parts  than  any  man  I  know, 
informed  me  that  all  the  country  to  the  left  was  unknown  to  him,  and  that 
''Vfai  the  /^/^--^tf^  tribes,  which  frequented  Lake  Sevier,  could  tell  him  nf)th- 
iiiij  about  it. 

May  20th. — We  met  a  band  of  Utah  Indians,  headed  by  a  chief  who 


P:, 


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I  (is  I 


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M/':MO/h'.S  ()/'•  MV  l.nE-JOIlN  CJIARI.KS  IRfaiONT. 


had  obtained  tht;  iAincrican  or  Mnylish  name  of  Walker,  by  which  he  i-, 
(juoU'd  and  well  known.  They  were  all  mounted,  armed  with  rifles,  and 
use  their  rifles  well.  The  ciiief  had  a  fusee,  which  he  had  carried  slur,  r 
in  addition  to  his  rille.  They  were  journeying  slowdy  toward  tlu-  Suanish 
trail,  to  levy  their  usual  triliute  upon  the  Ljreat  Californian  caravan.  Thcv 
were  robbers  of  a  higher  onler  than  tliose  of  the  desert.  They  coinjucted 
their  tle[)redations  with  form,  and  under  the  color  of  trade,  and  toll  for 
passin;^^  throisgh  their  country.  Instead  of  attacking  and  killing,  thcv  af- 
fect to  purchase — taking  the  horses  they  lik(;,  and  giving  somethin.;  nomi- 
nal in  return.  The  chief  was  (j'lite  civil  to  me.  He;  was  persoiiallv  ac- 
(juainted  with  his  namesake,  our  guule,  who  made  my  name  known  to  hi:ii. 
lie  knew  of  my  expedition  of  iS.p  ;  and,  as  tokens  of  friendship  and  proof 
that  we  had  met,  proposed  an  interchange  of  presents.  W'c  had  no  "real 
store  to  choose  out  of;  so  he  gave  me  a  Mexican  blanket,  and  I  gave  him 
a  \ery  fine  one  which  I  had  obtaineil  at  \'^ancouver. 

May  23;/.  -We  reached  .Sevier  River-  -the  main  tributary  of  the  lake  of 
the  same  name  which,  deflecting  from  its  northern  course,  here  breaks 
from  the  mountains  tii  enter  the  lake.  It  was  really  a  line  river,  from  ei"ht 
to  twelve  feet  deep  ;  and,  after  searching  in  vain  for  a  fordable  plact,-,  we 
made  little  boats  (or  rather  rafts)  out  of  bulrushes,  ami  ferried  acros:^. 
These  rafts  are  readily  made,  and  give  a  good  con\eyance  across  a  n.er. 
Tlic  rushes  are  botuul  in  buntUcs,  and  tied  hard  ■  the  bundles  art;  lied  down 
upon  poles,  as  close  as  they  can  l)e  pressed,  and  fashioned  lik(,'  a  boat,  in 
being  broader  in  the  mitldle  and  ])ointed  at  the  ends.  The  rushes,  being 
tubular  and  jointed,  are  light  and  strong.  The  raft  swims  well,  and  is 
shoved  along  by  poles,  or  paddled,  or  pushed  and  pulled  by  swimmers,  or 
drawn  bv  ropes.  ( )n  this  occasion  we  ust;d  ropes  one  at  each  enil  and 
rapidl\-  drew  our  little  tloat  backw.ird  and  torward,  from  shore  to  sliore. 
The  hors(.-s  swam. 

At  our  place  of  i  rossing,  which  was  the  n^ost  n'M'thern  point  of  its  bend, 
th(j  latitude  was  39  22'  19".  The  banks  sustainedthe  character  of  ferlility 
and  vegetation  wluch  we  had  seen  for  some  days.  The  nanu;  of  thisri\(r 
and  lake  was  an  indication  of  our  approach  to  regions  of  which  our  peo- 
ple had  been  the  explorers.  It  was  probably  named  after  some  .^  enca; 
trapper  or  hunter,  and  was  the  first  .American  name  we  had  1  since 

leaving  the  Colundjia  River,      b'rom   the  Dixllcs  to  the  a  here  we 

turned  across  the  Sierra  Nevada,  near  one  thousand  miles,  heard  I '  lian 
names,  and  the  greater  part  of  the  distance  none;  from  .\iu  \a  H  vetia 
(Sacramento)  to  Las  I'cgas  de  Santa  Clara,  about  one  thousand  ir  're,  all 
were  Spanish  ;  from  the  Mississippi  to  the  Pacific,  I'rench  and  .American 
or  Knglish  were  intermixed  ;  and  this  prevalence  of  names  iiulieat.es  the 
national  character  of  the  first  explorers. 


(1  « 


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THE    DIGGER    INDIAN. 


m  V:*'l 


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Ptii      i\ 


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-  : 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— BADEA  U  KILLED. 


387 


We  had  here  the  misfortune  to  lose  one  of  our  people,  Francois  Badeau, 
who  had  been  with  me  in  both  expeditions  ;  during  which  he  had  always 
bitn  one  of  my  most  faithful  and  efficient  men.  He  was  killed  in  (.'rawing 
toward  him  a  gun  by  the  muzzle  ;  the  hammer,  being  caught,  discharged 
the  'mil,  driving  the  ball  through  his  head.  We  buried  him  on  the  banks 
..fthe  river. 

Crossing  the  next  day  a  slight  ridge  along  the  river,  we  entered  a  hand- 
.u;ne  mountain  valley  covered  with  fine  grass,  and  directed  our  course  to- 
ward a  high  snowy  peak,  at  the  foot  of  wdiich  lay  the  Utah  Lake.  On  our 
ridit  was  a  ridge  of  high  mountains,  their  sunnnits  covered  with  snow,  con- 
stitutiiTT  the  dividing  ridge  between  the  basin  waters  and  those  of  the  Col- 
rinnlo.  At  noon  we  fell  in  with  a  party  of  Utah  Indians  coming  out  of  the 
mountain,  and  in  the  afternoon  encamped  on  a  tributary  to  the  lake,  which 
is  st'parated  from  the  waters  of  the  Sevier  by  very  slight  dividing  grounds. 

Early  the  next  day  we  came  in  sight  of  the  lake  ;  and,  as  we  descended 
to  the  broad  bottoms  of  the  Spanish  Fork,  three  horsemen  were  seer",  gal- 
loping toward  us,  who  proved  to  be  Utah  Indians — ^scouts  from  a  village 
which  was  encamped  near  tlie  mouth  of  the  river.  They  were  armed  with 
ri'les  and  their  horses  were  in  good  condition.  We  encamped  near  them, 
n  the  Spanish  Fork,  which  is  one  of  the  principal  tributaries  to  the  lake. 
i'inding  the  Indians  troublesome,  and  desirous  to  remain  here  a  day,  we 
removed  the  next  morning  farther  down  the  lake,  and  encamped  on  a 
fertile  bottom  near  the  foot  of  the  same  mountainous  ridge  which  bor- 
ders the  Great  Salt  Lake,  and  along  wdiich  we  had  journeyed  the  previous 
"September. 

Here  the  principal  plants  in  bloom  were  two,  which  were  remarkable 
as  .iffording  to  the  Snake  Indians — the  one  an  abundant  supply  of  food, 
and  tlie  dther  the  most  useful  among  the  applications  which  they  use  for 
wounds.  These  were  the  kooyah  plant,  growing  in  fields  of  extraordinary 
lu.xuriancc,  and  Coiivallaria  sfcllata,  which,  from  the  experience  of  Mr. 
Walker,  s  the  best  remedial  plant  known  among  those  Indians.  A  few 
miles  below  us  was  another  village  of  Indians,  from  wdiich  we  ol)tained 
some  fish—  among  them  a  few  salmon-trout,  which  were  very  much  inferior 
in  size  to  those  ainonyf  the  California  mountains.  Tlie  season  for  takiuL'' 
ihtni  had  not  yet  arrived  ;  but  the  Indians  were  tlaily  expecting  them  to 
come  up  out  of  the  lake. 

We  had  now  accomplished  an  object  Ave  had  in  view  wdien  leaving  the 
liallcs  of  the  Columbia  in  November  last :  we  had  reached  the  Utah  Lake; 
•'-thy  ;i  route  very  different  from  what  we  had  intended,  and  without  suf- 
'ifi'-nt  time  remaining  to  make  the  examinations  which  were  desired.  It 
i~^  a  lake  of  note  in  this  country,  under  the  dominion  of  the  Ulahs,  who 
ri:sort  to  it  for  fish.     Its  greatest  breadth  is  about  fifteen  miles,  stretching 


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iMEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


far  to  the  north,  narrowing-  as  it  goes,  and  connecting  with  the  Great  Sal' 
Lake.  This  is  the  report,  and  I  beheve  it  to  be  correct ;  but  it  is  fresh 
water,  while  the  other  is  not  only  saU,  but  a  saturated  sohition  of  salt;  and 
here  is  a  problem  which  requires  to  lie  sol\  ed.  It  is  almost  entirely  sur- 
rounded by  mountains,  walled  on  the  north  and  east  by  a  hi_;h  ami  snowy 
range,  which  supplies  to  it  a  f:xn  of  tributary  streams.  Anion"-  these  thi- 
[principal  river  is  the  Ti>iipaii-o<^o — signifjing  Rock  River-  a  name  which 
the  rocky  grandeur  of  its  scenery,  remarkabbi  even  in  this  country  of 
rugged  mountains,  has  obtained  for  it  from  the  Indians.  In  th(;  Utali  lan- 
guage, oi^-7c/d/i/n\  the  term  for  river,  when  coupled  with  other  words  in 
common  conversation,  is  usually  abbreviated  to  c';'y  ,•  tiuipan  sifrnit'yinr 
rock.  It  is  probable  that  this  river  furnished  the  nanie  which  on  the  oalt-r 
maps  has  been  generally  applied  to  the  (ireat  Salt  Lake;  but  for  this  1 
have  preferred  a  name  which  will  be  regarLlcl  as  highly  characteristic,  n-- 
stricting  to  the  river  the  descriptive  term  Ti;npan-ogo,  and  leavin"-  fur  the 
lake  into  which  it  Hows  the  name  of  the  people  who  reside  on  its  shores, 
and  by  which  it  is  known  throughout  the  country. 

The  vohnne  of  water  afforded  by  the  Timpan-ogo  is  probalily  eciual  tu 
that  of  the  Sevier  River  ;  and,  at  the  time  of  our  visit,  there  was  only  unc 
place  in  the  lake,  valley  at  which  the  Spanish  l-'ork  was  fordal)lc.  In  the 
range  of  mountains  along  its  eastern  shore  the  lake  is  bordtired  by  a  plain, 
'vhere  the  soil  is  generally  good,  and  in  greater  part  fertile,  watered  liv  a 
delta  of  prettily  timbered  streams.  This  would  be  an  e.Kcellent  lucalitvlor 
stock  farms  ;  it  is  generally  covered  with  good  bvmch  gras;,,  and  would 
abundantly  produce  the  ordinary  grains. 


In  arriving  at  the  Utah  Lake  we  had  completed  an  immense  circuit,  of 
twelve  degrees  diameter  north  and  soutli  and  ten  degrees  east  and  west; 
and  found  ourselves  in  May,  1844,  on  the  same  sheet  of  water  which  we 
had  left  in  Sejjtember,  1S43.  The  ( Tah  is  th.e  southern  limb  of  the  Great 
Salt  Lake  ;  and  thus  we  had  seeii  that  remarkable  slieet  of  w-ater  both  at 
its  northern  and  southern  e.xtren-iitv,  and  were  able  to  fix  its  position  at 
these  two  points. 

The  circuit  which  we  had  made,  and  which  had  cost  us  eight  months 
of  tune  and  three  thousand  ^\\c  hundred  miles  of  travelling,  had  given  ii-- 
a  view  of  Oregon  and  of  Xorth  California  from  t!u^  Rocky  Mountains  t' 
the   Pacific   Ocean,  and  of  the  two  principal   streams  which  form  hays  nr 


laving  completed  this  circuit,  and  1 


lein;. 


harbors  on  the  coast  ol  that  \v.\\. 
now  about  to  tiu'n  the  l)ack  upon  the  Pacillc  slope  of  our  continent  and  to 
recross  the  Rock)'  Mountains,  it  is  natural  to  look  back  upon  our  footstep-^ 
and  t.dve  some  brief  view  of  the  leading  features  and  general  structure  ol 
the  coimtry  we  had  traversed. 


;lf        1 


e  Great  Salt 
It  it  is  fresh 

of  salt;  and 

entire!)-  sur- 
li  and  snowy 
n--  these  tiic 

name  which 
s  country  ot 
he  Utah'hui. 
ler  words  in 
r.v  sicrnifyin;; 

nn  the  older 
)ut  f(jr  this  I 
acteristic,  re- 
avin;^r  for  the 
)n  its  shores, 

ably  ecjual  to 
was  only  one 
able.  In  the 
:.'d  b\'  a  plain, 
ivatered  bv  a 
It  lucalitv  for 
ukI  would 


sc  circuit,  ol 
t  and  west ; 

M"  which  we 

f  thi'  Great 
ater  both  at 
josition  at 


dit  n'lOiUhs 
,id  L;-ivi.n  u- 
1  miitains  t  • 
rm  bays  or 
an  1  being: 
ineiit  and  to 
ur  footsteps 
structure  ot 


SECOJVf    rXPEDITION—BACK  ON  UTAH  LAKE. 


3S9 


These  are  peculiar  and  striking,  and  differ  essentially  from  the  Atlantic 
side  if  our  country.  The  mountains  are  all  higher,  more  numerous,  and 
more  distinctly  defined  in  their  ranges  and  directions  ;  and,  what  is  so  con- 
trarv  tc  the  natural  order  of  such  formations,  one  of  these  ranges,  which 
is  near  the  coast  (the  Sierra  Nevada  and  the  Coast  Range),  presents  higher 
elevatioas  and  peaks  than  any  wdiich  are  to  be  found  in  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains themselves.  In  our  eight  months'  circuit  we  were  never  out  of  sight 
of  snow ;  and  the  Sierra  Nevada,  wdiere  we  crossed  it,  was  near  two 
thousand  feet  higher  than  the  South  Pass  in  the  Rocky  Mountains.  In 
heiiiht  these  n.  >!  ntains  greatly  exceed  those  of  the  .Xtlantic  side,  constantly 
presenting  peaks  wdiich  enter  the  region  of  eternal  snow  ;  and  some  of 
them  volcanic  and  in  a  frequent  state  of  activity.  They  are  seen  at  great 
distances,  and  guide  the  traveller  in  his  courses. 

The  course  and  elc:vation  of  these  ranges  give  direction  to  the  ri\ers 
and  character  to  the  coast.  No  great  river  does,  or  can,  take  its  rise  below 
the  Cascade  and  Sierra  Nevada  ranL,''e  ;  the  distance  to  the  s(;a  is  too 
short  to  admit  of  it.  The  ri\ers  of  the  San  Francisco  Bay,  wdiich  are  the 
Iar;^est  after  the  Columbia,  are  local  to  that  bay  and  lateral  to  the  coast, 
having  their  sources  about  on  a  line  wdth  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia,  and 
running  each  in  a  valley  of  its  own,  between  Coast  Range  and  the  Cascade 
.uul  .sierra  Nevada  range.  The  Columbia  is  the  only  river  wdiich  trav- 
erses the  whole  breadth  of  the  country,  breaking  through  all  the  ranges, 
'.:ul  entering  the  sea.  Drawing  its  waters  from  a  section  of  ten  degrees 
't'  latitude  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  which  are  collected  into  one  stream 
iiv  three  main  forks  (Lewis',  Clark's,  and  the  North  Fork)  near  the  centre 
ifthe  Oregon  X'alley,  this  great  river  thence  proceeds  by  a  single  chaniud 
;o  the  sea,  while  its  three  forks  lead  (.'acli  to  a  pass  in  the  mountains,  which 
"pens  the  way  into  the  interior  of  the  continent.  This  fact  in  relation  to 
the  rivers  of  this  region  gives  an  immense  value  to  the  Columbia.  Its 
nouth  is  the  only  inlet  and  outlet  to  and  from  the  sea  ;  its  three  forks  lead 
to  the  passes  in  the  mountains  ;   it  is,  therefore,  the  only  line  of  comniuni- 


ation  between  the  I'aciiic  and  the  interior  of  North  America 
)f 


ant 


1  all 


rations  of  war  or  commerce,  of  national   or  s<icial  intercourse,  must  be 


onducted  upon   it.      This   rrives  it  a  v.due  bevon<l  es*"imation,  and  wou 


dd 


involv 


e  irreparalde  injurv  if  lost.      In    this   unity  and  concentration   of  its 
aters  the  Pacific  side  of  our  continent  differs  entirely  from  tlu;  Atlantic 
rhere  the  waters  of  the  .\ll(;ghan\-  Mountains  are  dispersed  into  many 


>!ue,  w 


■;ve 


rs,  h; 


iviu''-  their  different  entrances  into  the  sea, 


and  openmg  many  lines 


communication  with  the  interior. 


'hf 


'acilic  coast  is  e(pi 


allv  ditlercnt  from   that  of  the  .\tlantic.      T 


le 


coast  of  the  .\tlantic  is  low  and  open,  indented  with  numerous  bays,  sounds 


and 


nver  estuaries,  accessible  everywdiere,  and  openini 


by 


many  channels 


t,:ii 


^-1 


ifj' 


if'!  i!  1 


%-m 


^  i"  •■;  P 


t"  \ 


,.f.   .».,. 


n 


■  h  ■ 


■'. 


I    \ 

'    1 
,    t 

;       !  !  _ 

!   1 
'i 

I  'I 


5  ■ 


39° 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FR^AfONT. 


into  the  heart  of  the  country.  The  Pacific  coast,  on  the  contrary,  is  hii^h 
and  compact,  with  few  bays,  and  but  one  that  opens  into  the  heart  oi" 
the  country.  The  immediate  coast  is  what  seamen  call  iron-bound.  \ 
little  withi  i,  it  is  skirted  by  two  successive;  ranges  of  mountains,  standing' 
as  rampar'.s  between  the  sea  and  the  interior  country  ;  and  to  o-et  through 
which  there  is  but  one  gate,  and  that  narrow  and  easily  defended.  This 
structure  of  the  coast,  backed  by  these  two  ranges  of  mountains,  with  its 
concentration  and  unity  of  waters,  gives  to  the  country  an  immense  militarv 
strength  and  will  probably  render  Oregon  the  most  impregnable  countr\ 
in  the  world. 

Differing  so  much  from  the  Atlantic  side  of  our  continent,  in  coast, 
mountains,  and  rivers,  the  Pacific  side  differs  from  it  in  another  most  rare 
and  singular  feature — that  of  the  great  interior  basin,  of  which  I  have  so 
often  spoken,  and  the  whole  form  and  character  of  which  I  was  so  anxious 
to  ascertain.  Its  existence  is  vouched  for  by  such  of  the  ^American  trader^ 
and  hunters  as  have  some  knowledge  of  that  region  ;  the  structure  of  thu 
Sierra  Nevada  range  of  mountains  requires  it  to  be  there;  and  my  owi- 
observations  confirm  it. 

INIr.  Joseph  Walker,  who  is  so  well  acquainted  in  those  parts,  informed 
me  that,  from  the  Great  Salt  Lake  west,  there  was  a  succession  of  lake-. 
and  rivers  wdiich  have  no  outlet  to  the  sea,  nor  any  connection  with  the 
Columbia,  or  with  the  Colorado  of  the  the  Gulf  of  California.  He  di- 
scribed  some  of  these  lakes  as  being  large,  with  numerous  streams,  and  even 
considerable  rivers,  falling  into  them.  In  fact,  all  concur  in  the  general  re- 
port of  these  interior  rivers  and  lakes  ;  and,  for  want  of  understandin;;- the 
force  and  power  of  evaporation,  which  so  soon  establ'i.hes  an  equilibriuin 
between  the  loss  and  supply  of  waters,  the  fable  of  whirlpools  and  subter- 
raneous outlets  has  gained  belief  as  the;  only  imaginable  wav  of  carryiii:^ 
off  the  waters  which  have  no  visible  discharge. 

The  structure  of  the  country  would  require  this  formation  of  interior 
lakes  ;  lor  the  waters  which  would  collect  between  the  Rockv  Mountains 
and  the  Sierra  Nevada,  not  being  able  to  cross  this  formidable  barrier,  nor 
to  get  to  the  Columbia  or  the  Colorado,  must  naturally  collect  into  reser- 
voirs, each  of  which  would  have  its  little  system  of  streams  and  rivers  to 
supply  it.  This  would  be  the  natural  I'flect ;  and  what  I  saw  went  to  con- 
firm it.  The  Great  Salt  Lake  is  a  formation  of  this  kind,  and  quite  a 
large  one  ;  having  many  streams,  and  one  considerable  river,  four  or  live 
hundred  miles  long,  falling  into  it.  This  lake  and  river  I  saw  and  ex- 
amuied  myself;  and  also  saw  the  Wah-saich  and  Bear  River  Mountains, 
which  enclose  the  waters  of  the  lake  on  the  east  and  constitute,  in  that 
quarter,  the  rim  of  the  Great  Basin. 

Afterward,  along  the  eastern  base  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  where  wetrav- 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— A  BRIEF  SUMMARY. 


39' 


(,;rc  we  trav- 


elled for  forty-two  clays,  I  saw  the  line  of  lakes  and  rivers  which  lie  at  the 
foot  of  that  Sierra;  and  which  Sierra  is  the  western  rim  of  the  Basin.  In 
coin""  down  Lewis'  Fork  and  the  iiiain  Columbia,  I  crossed  only  inferior 
streams  coming  in  from  the  left,  such  as  could  draw  their  water  from  a 
short  distance  only  ;  and  I  often  saw  the  mountains  at  their  heads,  white 
with  snow ;  ^hich,  all  accounts  said,  divided  the  waters  of  the  desert  from 
those  of  the  Columbia,  and  which  could  be  no  other  than  the  range  of  moun- 
tains which  form  the  rim  of  the  basin  on  its  northern  side.  And  in  return- 
ino-  from  California  along  the  Spanish  trail,  as  far  as  the  head  of  the  Santa 
Clara  Fork  of  the  Rio  Virgen,  I  crossed  only  small  streams  making  their 
wav  south  to  the  Colorado,  or  lost  in  sand — as  the  Mo-hah-ve  ;  while  to 
the  left,  lofty  mountains,  their  summits  white  with  snow,  were  often  visible, 
and  which  nmst  have  turned  water  to  the  north  as  well  as  to  the  south, 
and  thus  constituted  on  this  part,  the  southern  rim  of  the  basin. 

At  the  head  of  the  Santa  Clara  Fork,  and  in  the  Vegas  de  Santa  Clara, 
wc  crossed  the  ridge  which  parted  the  two  systems  of  waters.  We  en- 
tered the  basin  at  that  point,  and  have  travelled  in  it  ever  since,  ha\ing  its 
southeastern  rim  (the  W'ah-satch  Mountain)  on  the  right,  and  crossing  the 
streams  which  flew  down  into  it.  The  existence  of  the  basin  is,  theretbrc, 
an  C'^tablished  fact  in  liiV  mind  ;  its  extent  and  contents  are  yet  to  be  better 
ascertained.  It  cannot  be  less  than  four  or  five  hundred  miles  each  way, 
and  must  lie  principally  in  the  Alta  California;  the  demarcation  latitude  of 
42  probably  cutting  a  segment  from  the  north  part  of  the  rim.  Of  its  in- 
terior hut  little  is  known.  It  is  called  a  desert.,  and,  from  what  I  saw  of  it, 
sterility  inav  be  its  prominent  characteristic;  but  where  there  is  so  much 
water  there  must  be  some  oases.  i'hc  great  river  and  the  great  lake,  re- 
ported, may  not  be  equal  to  the  report ;  but  where  there  is  so  much  snow 
there  must  be  streams  ;  and  where  there  is  no  outlet  there  must  be  lakes 
to  hokl  the  accumulated  waters,  or  sands  to  swallow  them  up.  In  this 
eastern  part  of  the  basin,  containing  Sevier,  Utah,  and  the  Great  Salt 
Lakes,  and  the  rivers  and  creeks  falling  into  them,  we  know  there  is  good 
soil  and  good  grass  adaptetl  to  ci\i!ized  settlements.  In  the  western  part, 
on  Salmon  Trout  River  and  some  other  streams,  the  same  remark  may  be 
made. 

The  contents  of  .his  Great  Basin  are  yet  to  be  examined.  That  it  is 
peopled  we  know,  but  miserably  and  sparsely.  From  all  that  I  heard  ami 
saw,  1  should  say  that  humanity  here  appeared  in  its  lowest  form  ami  in 
its  most  elementary  state.  Dispersed  in  single  families  ;  widiout  fire  arms  ; 
eatinir  seeds  and  insects  ;  digging  roots  (anil  hence  their  nameV-  such  is 
the  condition  of  the  greater  part.  Others  are  a  degree  higher,  and  live  in 
ccninuinities  upion  some  lake  or  river  that  supplies  fish,  and  from  which 
they  repulse  the  miserable  Digger.      The  rabbit  is  the  largest  animal  known 


,«;:il 


I  .iaiiiii 


»i  ('iT-li 


'I     Ml 


T^l 


i  i 


i     ! 


!'  ■  i 


;j||     • 


1  u 


M'l 


if  li 


1   1 


392 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  IJFE—JOHN  CHARLES  FRiiMONT. 


in  this  desert ;  its  flesh  afibrds  a  little  meat ;  and  their  bag-like  covering- is 
made  of  its  skins.  The  wild  sage  is  their  only  wood,  and  here  it  is  of  ex- 
traordinary size  —sometimes  a  foot  in  diameter,  and  six  or  eight  feet  lii^h 
It  serves  for  fuel,  for  building  material,  for  shelter  to  the  rabbits,  and  ful- 
some sort  of  covering  for  the  feet  and  legs  in  cold  wealiicr.  Such  arc  the 
accounts  of  the  inhal)itants  and  productions  of  the  Great  Ijasin  ;  and  which 
though  imperfect,  must  have  some  foundation,  and  excite  our  desire  to  know 
the  whole. 

The  whole  idea  of  such  a  desert,  and  such  a  people,  is  a  novelty  in  our 
country,  and  excites  Asiatic,  not  American  ideas.  Interior  basins,  with 
their  own  systems  of  lakes  and  rivers,  and  often  sterile,  are  common  enou*di 
in  Asia  ;  people  still  in  the  elementary  state  of  families,  living  in  deserts. 
with  no  other  occupation  than  the  mere  animal  search  for  food,  mav  still 
be  seen  in  that  ancient  quarter  of  the  globe  ;  but  in  America  such  thin"s 
are  new  and  strange,  unknown  and  unsuspected,  and  discredited  when 
related.  But  I  ilatter  myself  that  what  is  discovered,  though  not  enou'rh 
to  satisfy  curiosit)-,  is  sufficient  to  excite  it,  and  that  subsequent  explora- 
tions will  complete  what  has  been  commenced. 

This  account  of  the  Great  Basin,  it  will  be  remembered,  l^elongs  to  the 
Alta  California,  and  has  no  a|)plication  to  Oregon,  whose  cai)abilitics  may 
justify  a  separate  remark.  Referring  to  my  journal  for  particular  descrip- 
tions, and  for  sectional  boundaries  between  good  and  bad  districts,  I  can 
only  say,  in  general  and  comparative  terms,  that,  in  the  branch  of  agri- 
culture which  implies  the  cultivation  of  grains  and  staple  crops,  it  would  be 
inferior  to  the  Atlantic  States,  though  many  parts  are  superior  for  wheat : 
wliile  in  the  rearing  of  flocks  and  herds  it  would  claim  a  high  place.  Its 
grazing  capabilities  are  great  ;  and  even  in  the  indigenous  grass  now 
there,  an  element  oi  individual  and  national  wealth  may  be  found.  In 
fact,  the  valuable  grasses  Ix-'gin  within  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  of  the 
7\Iissouri  frontier,  and  extend  to  the  Pacific  Ocean.  East  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains  it  is  the  short  curly  grass  on  which  the  buffalo  delight  to  teed, 
(whence  its  name  of  buffalo)  and  which  is  still  good  when  dry  and  ap- 
parently tlead. 

West  of  those  mountains  it  is  a  larger  growth,  in  cluster^,  and  hence 
called  bunch  grass,  and  which  has  a  second  or  fall  growth.  Plains  and 
mountains  both  exhibit  them  ;  and  I  have  seen  good  pasturage  at  an  e'le- 
vation  often  thousand  feet.  In  this  spontaneous  product,  the  trading;  or 
travelling  caravans  can  find  subsistence  for  their  animals  :  and  in  military 
operations  any  number  of  cavalry  may  be  moved  and  any  number  ol  cattle 
may  be  driven  ;  and  thus  men  and  horses  be  supported  on  loii.i;'  expe- 
ditions, and  even  in  winter  in  the  sheltered  situations. 

Commercially,  the  value  of  the  Oregon  country  must  be  great,  washed 


covennsfis 
it  is  of  ex- 
fcet  liioh. 

O 

Its,  and  for 
-ich  arc  the 
and  which, 
ire  to  know 

.•city  in  our 
asins,  with 
lion  enough 
in  deserts, 
d,  may  still 
Hich  things 
clited  when 
not  enough 
:nt  ex[)lora- 

longs  to  the 
diilitics  may 
dar  descri])- 
tricts,  I  can 
ch  of  agri- 
it  would  be 
or  wheat : 
dace.     Its 
^•rass  now 
found.     In 
nines  of  the 
the  Rocky 
It  to  feed, 
y  and  ap- 


r' 


and  hence 

Plains  and 

at  an  ele- 

trading  or 

in  military 

KM-  of  catde 

long  expe- 

:at,  washed 


SECOND  EXPEDITION— WE  FACE  EASTWARD  AGAIN 


393 


as  it  is  by  the  north  Pacific  Ocean — fronting  Asia — producing  many  of  the 
elements  of  commerce — mild  and  healthy  in  its  climate — and  becoming,  as 
it  naturally  will,  a  thoroughfare  for  the  East  India  and  China  trade. 

Turning'  our  faces  once  more  eastward,  on  the  morning  of  the  27th  we 
left  the  Utah  Lake,  and  continued  for  two  days  to  ascend  the  Spanish  Fork, 
which  is  dispersed  in  numerous  branches  among  very  rugged  mountains, 
which  afford  '"ew  passes,  and  render  a  familiar  acquaintance  with  them 
necessary  to  the  traveller.  The  stream  can  scarcely  be  said  to  have  a  val- 
lev,  the  mountains  rising  often  abruptly  from  the  water's  edge  ;  but  a  good 
trail  facilitated  our  travelling,  and  there  were  frequent  bottoms  covered 
with  excellent  grass.  The  streams  are  prettily  and  variously  wooded,  and 
everywhere  the  mountaiti  shows  grass  and  timber. 

At  our  encampment  on  the  evening  of  the  28th,  near  the  head  of  one 
of  the  branches  we  had  ascended,  strata  of  bituminous  limestone  were  dis- 
played in  an  escarpment  on  the  river  bluffs,  in  which  were  contained  a 
variety  of  fos,=i<  shells  of  new^  species. 

It  will  b'j  rt  membered  that  in  crossing  this  ridge  about  one  hundred 
and  twenty  mil'.s  to  the  northward  in  August  last,  strata  of  fossiliferous 
rock  were  discovered,  which  have  been  referred  to  the  oolitic  period  ;  it  is 
probable  that  these  rocks  also  belong  to  the  same  formation. 

\  few  miles  from  this  encampment  we  reached  the  head  of  the  stream ; 
and  crossing,  by  an  open  and  easy  pass,  the  dividing  ridge  which  separates 
the  waters  of  the  Great  Basin  from  those  of  the  Colorado,  we  reached  the 
head  branches  of  one  of  its  larger  tributaries,  which,  from  the  decided  color 
of  its  waters,  has  received  the  name  of  White  River.  The  snows  of  the 
mountains  were  now  beginning  to  melt,  and  all  the  little  rivulets  were 
running  by  in  rivers  and  rapidly  becoming  difficult  to  ford.  Continuing  a 
lew  miles  up  a  branch  of  White  River,  we  crossed  a  dividing  ridge  between 
its  waters  and  those  of  the  Uintah.  The  approach  to  the  pass,  which  is 
the  best  known  to  Mr.  Walker,  was  somewhat  difficult  for  packs,  and  im- 
practicable for  wagons — all  the  streams  being  shut  in  by  narrow  ravines 
and  the  narrow^  trail  along  the  steep  hill-sides  allowing  the  passage  of  only 
one  animal  at  a  time. 

From  the  summit  we  had  a  fine  view  of  the  snowy  Bear  River  range  ; 
and  there  were  still  remaining  beds  of  snow  on  the  cold  sides  of  the  hills 
near  the  pass.  We  descended  by  a  narrow  ravine,  in  which  was  gathered 
.1  Httle  branch  of  the  Uintah,  and  halted  at  noon  about  one  thousand  five 
hundred  feet  below  the  pass,  at  an  elevation,  by  the  boiling  point,  of  six 
thousand  nine  hundred  feet  above  the  sea. 

The  next  day  we  descended  along  the  river,  and  about  noon  reached  a 
point  where  three  forks  come  together.     Fording  one  of  these  with  some 


iv 


'^b  vli 


:i  ^- 


■mm 


i'ltl'  M 


i>  H 


:)M 


..     i:i 


III 


;  -i 


I!  ■'  ■ 


!■(    . 


Iii!. 


394 


MEMOTRR  OF  MY  LIFE—JOITN  CHARLES  FRfUIONT. 


difficulty,  we  continued  up  the  middle  branch,  which,  from  the  color  of  its 
waters,  is  named  the  Red  River.  The  few  passes  and  extremely  rurro-ej 
nature  of  the  country  give  to  it  great  strength,  and  secure  the  Utahs  from 
the  intrusion  of  their  enemies. 

Crossing  in  the  afternoon  a  somewhat  broken  highland,  covered  in 
places  with  fine  grasses,  and  with  cedar  on  the  hill-sides,  we  encampcil 
at  evening  on  another  tributary  to  the  Uintah,  called  the  Duchesne  Fork. 
The  water  was  very  clear,  the  stream  not  being  yet  swollen  by  the  melt- 
ing snows  ;  and  we  forded  it  without  any  difficulty.  It  is  a  considerable 
branch,  being  spread  out  by  islands,  the  largest  arm  being  about  a  hun- 
dred feet  wide  ;  and  the  name  it  bears  is  probably  that  of  some  old  French 
trapper. 

The  next  day  we  continued  down  the  river,  which  we  were  twice  oblij^^cd 
to  cross  ;  and,  the  water  having  risen  during  the  night,  it  was  almost  every- 
where too  deep  to  be  forded.  After  travelling  about  sixteen  miles,  we  en- 
camped again  on  the  left  bank. 

I  obtained  here  an  occultation  of  h  Scorpii  at  the  dark  limb  of  the  moon, 
which  gives  for  the  longitude  of  the  place    112°  18'  30",  and  the  latitud.- 

40°  18'  53". 

June  \st. — We  left  to-day  the  Duchesne  Fork,  and,  after  traversin-^-  a 
broken  country  for  about  sixteen  miles,  arrived  at  noon  at  another  con- 
siderable branch,  a  river  of  great  velocity,  to  which  the  trappers  have  im- 
properly given  the  name  of  Lake  I'ork.  The  name  applied  to  it  by  the 
Indians  signifies  great  swiftness,  and  is  the  same  which  they  use  to  express 
the  speed  of  a  race-horse.  It  is  spread  out  in  various  channels  over  several 
hundred  yards,  and  is  everywhere  too  deep  and  swift  to  be  forded. 

At  this  season  of  the  year  there  is  an  uninterrupted  noise  from  the 
large  rocks  which  are  rolled  along  the  bed.  After  infinite  difficulty,  anti 
the  delay  of  a  day,  we  succeeded  in  getting  the  stream  bridged,  and  got 
over  with  the  loss  of  one  of  our  animals.  Continuing  our  route  across  a 
broken  country,  of  which  the  higher  parts  were  rocky  and  timbered  with 
cedar,  and  the  lower  parts  covered  with  good  grass,  we  reached  on  the 
afternoon  of  the  3d  the  I'intah  Fort,  a  trading  post,  belonging  to  Mr.  A. 
Roubideau,  on  the  principal  fork  of  the  Uintah  River.  We  found  the 
stream  nearly  as  rapid  and  difficult  as  the  Lake  Fork,  divided  into  several 
channels,  which  were  too  broad  to  be  bridged.  With  the  aid  of  guides 
from  the  fort,  we  succeeded,  with  very  great  difliculty,  in  fording  it ;  and 
encamped  near  the  fort,  which  is  situated  a  short  distance  above  the  junc- 
tion of  the  two  branches  that  make  the  river. 

By  an  immersion  of  the  first  satellite  (agreeing  well  with  the  result  ot 
the  occultation  observed  at  the  Duchesne  Fork)  the  longitude  ot  the  post 
is  109°  56'  42",  the  latitude  40    27'  45". 


1 


pas 


s/'cox/i  Kx r j: n rnoA—ui XTA If  fort.  395 

It  has  a  motley  q-arrison  of  Canadian  and  Spanish  cno;agcs  and  hunters, 
with  the  usual  number  of  Indian  women.  We  obtained  a  small  supply  of 
sii";ir  and  coffee,  with  some  dried  meat  and  a  cow,  which  was  a  very  ac- 
cT|)t;ible  chan^fc  from  the  pinole  on  which  we  had  subsisted  for  some  weeks 

t.  I  strcnL,''thened  my  party  at  this  place  by  the  addition  of  Auguste 
\rchambeau,  an  excellent  voyageur  and  hunter,  belonging  to  the  class  of 
Carson  and  Godey. 

On  the  morning  of  the  5th  we  left  the  fort,*  and  the  Uintah  River,  and 
continued  our  road  over  a  broken  country  which  afforded,  however,  a  rich 
addition  to  our  botanical  collection  ;  and,  after  a  march  of  twenty-five  miles, 
were  again  checked  by  another  stream,  called  Ashley's  Fork,  where  we 
were  detained  until  noon  of  the  next  day. 

An  immersion  of  the  second  satellite  gave  for  this  place  a  longitude  of 
109  27'  07",  the  latitude  by  observation  being  40'  28'  07". 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day  we  succeeded  in  finding  a  ford  ;  and, 
after  travelling  fifteen  miles,  encamped  high  up  on  the  mountain  side,  where 
we  found  excellent  and  abundant  grass,  of  a  kind  which  we  had  not  hith- 
erto seen.  A  new  species  o{  clyimis,  which  had  a  purgative  and  weakening 
ctiect  upon  the  animals,  had  occurred  abundantly  since  leaving  the  fort. 
From  this  point,  by  observation  seven  thousand  three  hundred  feet  above 
the  sea,  we  had  a  view  of  the  Colorado  below,  shut  up  among  rugged  moun- 
tains. It  is  the  recipient  of  all  the  streams  we  had  been  crossing  since  we 
passed  the  rim  of  the  Great  Basin  at  the  head  of  the  Spanish  Fork. 

On  the  7th  we  had  a  pleasant  but  long  day's  journey,  through  beautiful 
little  valleys  and  a  high  mountain  countrj%  arriving  about  evening  at  the 
verge  of  a  steep  and  rocky  ravine,  by  which  we  descended  to  ''  Broiuns 
Hole."  This  is  a  place  well  known  to  trappers  in  the  country,  where  the 
canons  through  which  the  Colorado  runs  expand  into  a  narrow  but  pretty 
valley,  about  sixteen  miles  in  length.  The  river  was  several  hundred  yards 
in  breadth,  swollen  to  the  top  of  its  banks,  near  to  which  it  was  in  many 
places  fifteen  to  twenty  feet  deep.  W^e  repaired  a  skin  boat  which  had 
been  purchased  at  the  fort,  and,  after  a  delay  of  a  day,  reached  the  oppo- 
site bank  with  much  less  delay  than  had  been  encountered  on  the  Uintah 
waters. 

According  to  information  the  lower  end  of  the  valley  is  the  most  east- 
ern part  of  the  Colorado  ;  and  the  latitude  of  our  encampment,  which  was 
opposite  to  the  remains  of  an  old  fort  on  the  left  bank  of  the  river,  was  40'' 
;'i  ;;  ,  and,  1^'  observation,  the  elevation  above  the  sea  five  thousand  one 
inmdred  and  fifty  feet.     The  bearing  to  the  entrance  of  the  canon  below  was 

riiis  tort  was  ait;icki.'d  ainl  l.ikrn  l)y  a  band  of  tlic  I'lali  Indians  since  wo  passed  it  ;  and  the 
■iciiofthe  ijarrisoii  killed,  (he  wnnten  carried  otT.  Mr.  Roubideau,  a  trader  uf  St.  Loids,  was  ab- 
sent, and  so  escaped  the  fate  of  the  rest. 


Ml 


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39« 


MEMOIRS  OF  .VY  l.Ur.—JOlIN  CHARJ.F.S  FREMONT. 


south  20"  east.  Here  the  river  enters  between  lofty  precipices  of  red  rock 
and  the  country  below  is  said  to  assum."  a  very  ru^^^jred  cliaracter ;  the 
river  and  its  affluents  passing- throuyh  cartons  which  forbid  all  access  to  the 
water.  This  sheltered  little  valley  was  formerly  a  favorite  winteriivr  crround 
for  the  trappers,  as  it  afforded  them  sufficient  pasturage  for  their  animals 
and  the  surrounding  mountains  are  well  stocked  with  game. 

We  surprised  a  flock  of  mountain  sheep  as  we  descended  to  the  river 
and  our  hunters  killed  several.  The  bottoms  of  a  small  stream  called  the 
V'ermilion  Creek,  which  enters  the  left  bank  of  the  river,  a  short  distance 
below  our  encampment,  were  covered  abundantly  with  /'".  verinicnlaris,  and 
other  chenopodiaceous  shrubs.  From  .he  lower  end  of  Brown's  Hole  we 
issued  by  a  remarkably  dry  carton,  fifty  or  sixty  yards  wide,  and  risino-,  as 
we  advanced,  to  the  height  of  six  or  eight  hundred  feet.  Issuing  from  this, 
and  crossing  a  small  green  valley,  we  entered  another  rent  of  the  same 
nature,  still  narrower  than  the  other,  the  rocks  on  either  side  rising  in  near- 
ly vertical  precipices  perhaps  one  thousand  five  hundred  feet  in  height. 

These  places  are  mentioned,  to  give  some  idea  of  the  country  lower 
down  on  the  Colorado,  to  which  the  trappers  usually  apply  the  name  of  a 
carton-country.  The  carton  opened  upon  a  pond  of  water,  where  we  halted 
at  noon.  Several  flocks  of  mountain  sheep  were  here  among  the  rocks, 
which  rung  with  volleys  of  small  arms.  In  the  afternoon  we  entered  upon 
an  ugly,  barren,  and  broken  country,  corresponding  well  with  that  we  had 
traversed  a  few  degrees  north,  on  the  same  side  of  the  Colorado.  The 
Vermilion  Creek  afforded  us  brackish  water  and  indifferent  grass  for  the 
night. 

A  few  scattered  cedar-trees  were  the  only  improvement  of  the  countrv 
on  the  following  day  ;  and  at  a  little  spring  of  bad  water,  where  we  halted 
at  noon,  we  had  not  even  the  shelter  of  these  from  the  hot  rays  of  the  sun. 
At  night  we  encamped  in  a  line  grove  of  cotton-wood  trees  on  the  banks  of 
the  Elk  Head  River,  the  principal  fork  of  the  Yainpah  River,  commonly 
called  by  the  trappers  Bear  River.  We  made  here  a  very  strong  corral 
and  fort,  and  formed  the  camp  into  vigilant  guards.  The  country  we  were 
now  entering  is  constantly  infested  by  war  parties  of  the  Siou.K  and  other 
Indians,  and  is  considered  among  the  mgst  dangerous  war-grounds  in  the 
Rocky  Mountains  ;  parties  of  whites  having  been  repeatedly  defeated  on 
this  river. 

On  the  nth  we  continued  up  the  river,  which  is  a  considerable  stream 
fifty  to  a  hundred  yards  in  width,  handsomely  and  continuously  wooded 
with  groves  of  the  narrow-leaved  cotton-wood  {Popiilus  angustijolui): 
with  these  were  thickets  of  willow  and  Grains  de  bosuf.  The  characteristic 
plant  along  the  river  is  F.  vermicularis,  which  generally  covers  the  bot- 
toms ;  mingled  with  this,  are  saline  shrubs  and  artemisia.     The  new  variety 


V' 


'M  \''i 


SECOND  EXPEPITION-ST.    VRAIX'S  lORK. 


397 


of  mss  which  we  had  seen  on  leaving  the  Uintah  Fort,  had  now  disap- 
peared. 

The  country  on  either  side  was  sandy  and  poor,  scantily  wooded  with 
cedars,  but  the  river  bottoms  afforded  good  pasture.  Three  antelopes  were 
killed  in  the  afternoon,  and  we  encamped  a  Httle  below  a  branch  of  the 
river,  called  St.  Vrain's  Fork.  A  few  miles  above  was  the  fort  at  which 
Frapp  s  part\'  had  been  defeated  two  years  since ;  and  we  passed  during 
the  day  a  place  where  Carson  had  been  fired  upon  so  close  that  one  of  the 
men  had  five  bullets  through  his  body.  Leaving  this  river  the  next  morn- 
jii",  we  took  our  way  across  the  hills,  where  every  hollow  had  a  spring  of 
running  water,  with  good  grass. 

Vestcrdav  and  to-day  we  have  had  before  our  eyes  the  high  mountains 
diidi  divide  the  Pacific  from  the  Mississippi  waters  ;  and  entering  here 
among  the  lower  spurs,  or  foot-hills  of  the  range,  the  face  of  the  country 
becan  to  improve  with  a  magical  rapidity.  Not  only  the  river  bottoms,  but 
die  hills,  were  covered  with  grass  ;  and  among  the  usual  varied  flora  of  the 
mountain  region  these  were  occasionally  blue  with  the  showy  bloom  of  a 
lupinus. 

In  the  course  of  the  morning  we  had  the  first  glad  view  of  buffalo,  and 
welcomed  the  appearance  of  two  old  bulls  with  as  much  joy  as  if  they  had 
been  messengers  from  home  ;  and,  when  we  descended  at  noon  on  St. 
Vrain's  Fork,  an  affluent  of  Green  River,  the  hunters  brought  in  mountain 
sheep  and  the  meat  of  two  fat  bulls.  Fresh  entrails  in  the  river  showed 
us  diat  there  were  Indians  above  ;  and,  at  evening,  judging  it  unsafe  to  en- 
camp in  the  bottoms,  which  were  wooded  only  with  willow-thickets,  we  as- 
cended to  the  spurs  above,  and  forted  strongly  in  a  small  aspen-grove,  near 
to  which  was  a  spring  of  cold  water.  The  hunters  killed  two  fine  cows 
near  the  camp. 

.\  band  of  elk  broke  out  of  a  neighboring  grove  ;  antelopes  were  run- 
ninjif  over  the  hills  ;  and  on  the  opposite  river  plains  herds  of  buffalo  were 
raising  clouds  of  dust.  The  country  here  appeared  more  variously  stocked 
with  game  than  any  part  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  we  had  visited  ;  and  its 
abundance  is  owing  to  the  excellent  pasturage  and  its  dangerous  character 
as  a  war-ground. 

'june  \itli. — There  was  snow  here  near  our  mountain  camp,  and  the 
morning  was  beautiful  and  cool.  Leaving  St.  Vrain's  Fork,  we  took  our 
way  directly  toward  the  summit  of  the  dividing  ridge.  The  bottoms  of  the 
streams  and  level  places  were  wooded  with  aspens  ;  and  as  we  neared  the 
summit  we  entered  again  the  piny  region. 

^\  (■  had  a  delightful  morning's  ride,  the  ground  affording  us  an  excellent 
Wle-path,  and  reached  the  summit  toward  mid-day,  at  an  elevation  of 
tight  thousand  feet.     With  joy  and  exultation  we  saw  ourselves  once  more 


w*  I  ^ 


f  ! 


'M 


'f    i 


il    ! 


I  i- 


J   I 


i       I  : 


If    -^ 


I      '  1 


r  %  I 


111:  ! 


^M  i-vm 


398 


MEMOIRS  OF  MV  IJFF.—JOIfX  CIIARLF.S  FRf'.MONT. 


on  the  top  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  beheld  a  little  stream  takincr  its 
course  toward  the  risin^f  sun.  It  was  an  affluent  of  the  Platte,  called  Pul- 
iam's  Fork,  and  we  desc(;nd<;d  at  noon  upon  it.  It  is  a  prcttv  stream 
twenty  yards  broad,  ami  bears  the  name  of  a  trapper  who,  some  years 
since,  was  killed  here  b\'  the  Gros  I'en/n'  Indians. 

Issuing  from  th(.'  pines,  in  the  afternoon  we  saw  spread  out  before  us 
the  X'alley  of  tlu.-  Platte,  with  the  pass  of  the  Medicine  Butte  beyond,  and 
some  of  the  Sweet  Water  Mountains  ;  but  a  smoky  haziness  in  the  air  en- 
tirely obscured  the  Wind  River  chain. 

We  were  now  about  two  degrees  south  of  the  South  Pass,  and  our 
course  home  would  have  been  eastwartUy  ;  but  that  would  have  taken  us 
over  ground  already  examined,  and  therefore  without  the  interest  which 
would  excite  curiosity. 

Southwardly  there  were  objects  worthy  to  be  explored,  to  wit :  The  ap- 
proximation of  the  head-waters  of  three  different  rivers — the  Platte,  tin- 
Arkansas,  and  the  Grand  River  P'ork  of  the  Rio  Colorado  of  the  Gulf  of 
California  ;  the  passes  at  the  heads  of  these  rivers  ;  and  the  three  remark- 
able mountain  coves,  called  parks,  in  which  they  took  their  rise.  One  of 
these  parks  was,  of  course,  on  the  western  side  of  the  dividing  ritlge ;  and 
a  visit  to  it  would  recpiire  us  once  more  to  cross  the  summit  of  the  Rockv 
Mountains  to  the  west,  and  then  to  recruss  to  the  east ;  making  in  all,  with 
the  transit  we  had  just  accomplished,  three  crossings  of  that  mountain  in 
this  section  of  its  course.  Put,  no  matter.  The  coves,  the  heads  of  the 
rivers,  the  approximation  of  their  waters,  the  practicability  of  the  mountain 
passes,  and  the  locality  of  the  tiirkk  tarks,  were  all  objects  of  interest: 
and,  although  well  known  to  hunters  and  trappers,  were  unknown  to  sci- 
ence and  to  history.  We  therefore  changed  our  course,  and  turned  up  the 
X'alley  of  the  Platte,  instead  of  going  down  it. 

We  crossed  se^•eral  small  affluents,  and  again  made  a  fortified  camp  in 
a  grove.  The  country  had  now  become  very  beautiful  — rich  in  water,  q^rass, 
and  game  ;  and  to  these  were  added  the  charm  of  scenery  anil  pleasant 
weather. 

yjinc  \\th. — Our  route  this  morning  lay  along  the  foot  of  the  mountain, 
over  the  long,  low  spurs  which  sloped  gradually  down  to  the  river,  forming 
the  broad  Valley  of  the  Platte.  The  country  is  beautifully  watered— in  al- 
most every  hollow  ran  a  clear,  cool,  mountain  stream  ;  and  in  the  course ol 
the  morninfr  we  crossed  seventeen,  several  of  them  beintr  large  creeks  forty 
to  fifty  feet  wide,  with  a  swift  current  and  tolerably  deep.  These  were  va- 
riously wooded  with  groves  of  aspen  and  cotton-wood,  with  willow,  cherry, 
and  other  shrubby  trees.  Buffalo,  antelope,  and  elk  were  frequent  during 
the  day  ;  and,  in  their  abundance,  the  latter  sometimes  reminded  us  slighdy 
of  the  Sacramento  Valley. 


'  f -Mr 


sKcoxj)  j:xpj:ditiox-~ivj:.\ J i:s  lassos  a  gri/./iy. 


399 


\Vc  halted  at  noon  on  Potter's  Fork — a  clear  and  swift  stream  forty 
vards  wide,  and  in  many  places  deep  enough  to  swim  our  animals  ;  and  in 
tliecvciiini,''  encompetl  on  a  pretty  stream,  where  there  were  several  beaver- 
dams,  aiul  many  trees  recently  cut  down  by  the  beaver.  W'c  _C;ave  to  this 
the  name  of  Beaver-dam  Creek,  .is  now  they  are  becoming  sufficiently  rare 
to  distinguish  by  their  name  the  streams  on  which  they  are  found.  In  this 
mountain  they  occurred  more  abundantly  than  elsewhere  in  all  our  journey, 
in  which  their  vestiges  had  been  scarcely  seen. 

The  next  day  we  continued  our  journey  up  the  valley,  the  country  pre- 
senting much  the  same  appearance  except  that  the  grass  was  more  scanty 
on  the  ridges,  over  which  was  spread  a  scrubby  growth  of  sage  ;  but  still 
the  bottoms  of  the  creeks  w^cre  broad,  and  aftbrdett  good  pasture-grounds. 
We  had  an  animated  chase  after  a  gri/zly  bear  this  morning,  which  we  tried 
:o  lasso.  Fucntes  threw  the  lasso  upon  his  neck  ;  but  it  slipped  off,  and 
he  escaped  into  the  dense  thickets  of  the  creek,  into  which  we  did  not  like 
to  venture.  Our  course  in  the  afternoon  brought  us  to  the  main  Platte 
River,  here  a  handsome  stream  with  a  uniform  breadth  of  seventy  yards, 
txcei^t  where  widened  by  frequent  islands.  It  was  apparently  deep,  with 
.1  moderate  current,  auu  >,  roded  with  groves  of  large  willow. 

The  valley  narrowed  as  we  ascended,  and  presently  degenerated  into 
a  gorge,  through  which  the  river  passed  as  through  a  gate.  We  entered 
:t,  and  found  ourselves  in  the  New  Park — abeartiful  circular  valley  of  thirty 
miles  diameter,  walled  in  all  round  with  snowy  mountains,  richw'ith  water 
and  with  grass,  fringed  with  pine  on  the  mounta"n  sides  below  the  snow- 
line, and  a  paradise  to  ail  grazing  animals.  The  'ndian  name  for  it  signi- 
p.es  "  Cou<  Lodge,"  of  which  our  own  may  be  considered  a  translation  ;  the 
endosure,  the  grass,  the  water,  and  the  herds  of  buffalo  roaming  over  it, 
naturally  presenting  the  idea  of  a  park.  We  halted  fcr  the  night  just  within 
the  gate,  and  expected,  as  usual,  to  see  herds  of  buffalo  ;  but  an  Arapahoe 
village  had  been  before  us,  and  not  one  was  to  be  seen.  Latitude  of  the 
encampment,  40  52'  44".  Flevation,  by  the  boiling-point,  seven  thousand 
seven  hundred  and  twenty  feet. 

It  is  from  this  elevated  cove,  and  from  the  gorges  of  the  surrounding 
mountains,  and  some  lakes  within  their  bosoms,  that  the  Great  Platte  River 
collects  its  first  waters  and  assumes  its  first  form  ;  and  certainly  no  river 
could  ask  a  more  beautiful  origin. 

Juuc  \6f/i. — In  the  morning  we  pursued  our  way  through  the  park, 
following  a  principal  branch  of  the  Platte,  and  crossing,  among  many  smaller 
ones,  a  bold  stream,  scarcely  fordable,  called  Lodge  Pole  Fork,  and  whicli 
issues  from  a  lake  in  the  mountains  on  the  right,  ten  miles  long.  In  the 
evening  we  encamped  on  a  sinall  stream  near  the  upper  end  of  the  park. 
Latitude  of  the  camp,  40°  2)i   22". 


■R|i 


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«  ':,.  Si.'' 


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t'  *l 


400 


MEMOIRS  OF  MV  IJFE—JOJIN  CrrARLF.S  FRKMOXT. 


June  "]th. — We  continded  our  way  among-  the  waters  of  the  park 
over  the  foot-hills  of  the  bordering-  mountains,  whciC  we  found  il^oocI  pas- 
turage, and  surprised  and  killed  some  buffalo.  We  fell  into  a  broad  and 
excellent  trail,  made  by  bufHilo,  where  a  wagon  would  pass  with  case;  and 
in  the  course  of  tl.e  morning  we  crossed  the  summit  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, through  a  pass  which  was  one  of  the  most  beautiful  we  hud  ever 
seen.  The  trail  led  among  aspsns,  through  open  grounds  richly  covered 
with  grass,  and  carried  us  ovei  an  elevation  of  about  nine  thousand  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  seei. 

The  country  appeared  to  great  advantage  in  the  delighthil  suinnier 
weather  of  the  mountains,  which  we  still  continued  to  enjoy.  Descendino- 
from  the  pass  we  found  ourselves  again  on  the  western  waters,  and  halted 
at  noon  on  the  edge  of  another  mountain  valley,  called  the  Old  Park,  in 
wdiich  is  formed  Grand  River,  one  of  the  principal  branches  of  the  Colorado 
of  Caliibrnia. 

W^e  were  now  moving  with  some  caution,  as,  from  the  trail,  we  found 
the  Arapahoe  village  had  also  passed  this  way.  As  we  were  coming  o.it 
of  their  enemy's  country,  and  this  was  a  war-ground,  we  were  desirous  to 
avoid  them.  After  a  long  afternoon's  march  we  halted  at  uighi  on  a 
small  creek,  tributary  to  a  main  fork  of  Grand  River,  which  ran  throuL^h 
this  portion  of  the  valley.  The  appearance  of  the  country  in  the  Old  Park 
is  interesting,  though  of  a  different  character  from  the  New :  insteatl  of 
being  a  com])arative  plain,  it  is  more  or  less  broken  into  hills  and  sur- 
rounded by  the  high  mountains,  timbered  on  the  lower  parts  with  quakiuL: 
asp  and  pines. 

yunc  \Sf/i. — (^ur  scouts,  who  were  as  usual  ahead,  made  from  a  butte 
this  morning  the  signal  of  Indians,  and  we  rode  up  in  tinie  to  meet  a  partv 
of  about  thirty  Arapahoes.  They  were  me  i  and  women  going  into  th'' 
hills  —the  men  for  game,  the  women  for  roots — and  informed  us  that  tlic 
village  was  encamped  a  few  miles  abr  ,c,  on  the  main  fork  of  (Iran.l 
River,  which  passes  through  the  midst  of  the  valley.  I  made  them  liif 
usual  presents  ;  but  they  appearetl  disposed  to  be  unfriendly,  ond  galloped 
back  at  speed  to  the  village.  Knowing  that  we  had  trouble  to  expect,  i 
descended  inimediately  into  the  bottoms  of  Grand  River,  which  v  ere  over- 
flowed in  places,  the  river  being  up,  and  made  the  l)est  encampment  the 
ground  afforded.  We  hatl  no  time  to  build  a  fort,  but  found  an  open  place 
among  the  willows  which  was  defended  by  the  river  on  one  side  and  the 
overflowed  bottoms  on  the  other.  We  had  scarcely  made  our  few  prepara- 
tions when  about  two  lumdred  of  th(mi  appeared  on  the  verge  of  thr  bot- 
tom, mounted,  painted,  and  armed  for  war.  We  planted  the  .American 
flag  between  us  ;  and  a  short  parley  i'nde>l  in  a  truce,  with  somclhinfyniore 
than  the  usual  amount  of  presents,     About  twenty  Sioux  were  with  them 


trail,  \\Q  found 


SECOND  EXJ'/U)/TIOX—A  XARROW  ESCAPE. 


40  r 


—one  of  tliem  an  old  chief  who  had  always  been  friendly  to  the  whites. 
H*;  informed  me  that,  before  coming  down,  a  council  had  b(;en  held  at  the 
villafc,  in  which  the  greater  part  had.  declared  for  attacking  us — we  had 
come  from  their  enemies,  to  whom  we  had  doubtless  been  carrying  assist- 
ance in  arms  antl  ammunition  ;  but  his  own  party,  with  some  few  of  the 
Arapahocs  who  had  seen  us  the  ])revious  year  in  the  plains,  opposed  it. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  it  is  customary  for  this  people  to  attack  the 
trading  jjarties  which  they  meet  in  this  region,  considering  all  whom  they 
meet  on  the  western  side  of  the  mountains  to  be  their  enemies.  They  de- 
ceived me  into  the  belief  that  I  should  find  a  ford  at  their  village,  and  I 
could  not  avoid  accompanying  thc;m  ;  but  put  several  sloughs  betweei.  us 
and  tiieir  village,  and  forted  strongly  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  which  was 
everywhere  rapid  and  deep,  and  over  a  hundred  yards  in  breadth.  The 
camp  was  generally  crowtletl  with  Indians  ;  and  though  the  baggage  was 
carefully  watched  and  covered  a  number  of  things  were  stolen. 

The  next  morning  we  descentlcd  the  river  for  about  eight  miles,  and 
halted  a  short  distance  above  a  canon  through  which  Grand  River  issued 
from  the  park.  Mere  it  was  smooth  and  deep,  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards 
in  breadth,  and  its  elevation  at  this  point  six  thousand  seveii  hundred  feet. 
A  frame  for  the  boat  being  very  soon  made  our  baggage  was  ferried 
across ;  the  horses,  in  the  meantime,  swimming  over.  A  southern  fork  of 
Grand  River  here  makes  its  junction,  nearly  opposite  tc  the  branch  by 
whidi  v.;j  had  entered  the  valley,  and  up  this  we  continue(  for  about  eight 
miles  in  the  afternoon,  and  encamped  in  a  bottom  on  the  left  bank,  which 
afforded  good  grass.  At  our  encampment  it  was  seventy  to  ninety  yards 
in  breadth,  sometimes  widened  by  islands,  and  separated  into  several 
channels,  with  a  very  swift  current  and  bed  of  rolled  rocks. 

On  the  20th  we  travelled  up  the  left  bank,  with  the  prospect  of  a  bad 
road,  the  trail  here  taking  the  oj  )osite  side  ;  l)ut  the  stream  was  u[),  and 
nowhere  fordable.  A  piny  ridge  ot  mountains,  with  bare,  rocky  [)eaks,  was 
on  our  right  all  the  da\'.  and  a  snowy  mountain  appeared  ahead.  We 
cossed  many  foaming  torrents  with  rocky  beds,  rushing  down  to  the  river, 
and  in  the  evening  made  a  strong  fort  in  an  aspen-gro\e.  The  valley  had 
already  become  very  narrow,  shut  u[)  more  closely  in  densely  timbered 
I'lountains,  the  pines  sweeping  down  to  the  verge  of  the  bottoms.  The  coq 
ii  prairie  (  Tctyao  europhasianus)  was  occasionally  seen  among  the  sage. 

We  saw  to-dr.y  the  returning  trail  of  an  Arapahoe  party  which  had  been 
w,t  from  the  village  to  look  for  Ttahs  in  the  I?ayou  Saladt;  (South  Park)  ; 
and  it  being  probable  that  they  would  visit  our  camp  with  the  desire  to  re- 
turn on  horseback,  we  were  mf)rp  than  usually  on  the  alert. 

Mere  the  river  diminish<-d  tv.  thirty-five  \ards,  and,  notwithstanding  the 
number  of  affluents  we  had  crossed,  was  still  a  large  stream,  dashing  swi'tly 


I 


;i^ 


t!i --:!!• 


.  li 

iAkkAhl'll.    ■    ...     ' 

402 


MEMOfKS  OF  AfV  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


by,  with  a  yreat  continuous  fall,  and  not  yet  ibrtlable.  We  had  a  delio-Jn- 
ful  ride  along  a  good  trail  among  the  fragrant  pines  ;  and  the  appearance 
of  buffalo  in  great  numbers  indicated  that  there  were  Indians  in  die  Bavoii 
Salade  (South  Park),  by  whom  they  were  driven  out.  We  halted  to  noon 
under  the  shade  of  the  pines,  ami  the  weather  was  most  delightful.  The 
country  was  literally  alive  with  bulialo  ;  and  the  continued  echoes  of  the 
hunters'  rifles  on  the  other  side  of  the  river  for  a  moment  made  me  unuasv, 
thinking  perhaps  they  were  engaged  with  Indians  ;  but  in  a  short  time  thev 
came  into  camp  with  the  meat  of  seven  fat  cows. 

During  the  earlier  part  of  the  day's  ride  the  river  had  been  merely  a 
narrow  ravine  between  high  piny  mountains,  backed  on  both  sides,  but 
particularly  on  the  west,  by  a  line  of  snowy  ridges  ;  but,  after  suvi^ral 
hours'  ride,  the  stream  opened  out  into  a  valley  with  pleasant  bottoms.  In 
the  afternoon  the  river  forked  into  three  apparently  equal  streams;  hnxui 
buffalo  trails  leading  up  the  left-hand,  and  the  middle  branch  indicatin  ■ 
good  passes  over  the  mountains  ;  but  up  on  th«,'  right-hand  branch, (which, 
in  the  object  of  descending  from  the  mountain  by  thf  main  head  of  the 
Arkansas,  I  was  most  d('sirous  to  follow)  there  was  no  sign  of  a  buffalo 
trace.  Apprehending  from  this  reason,  and  the  character  of  the  mountains, 
which  are  known  to  be  e.\tremel\-  rugged,  that  the  right-hand  branch  lod 
to  no  pass,  I  proceeded  up  the  middle  branch,  which  formed  a  llat  valltv 
bottom  between  timbered  ridges  on  the  left,  and  snowy  mountains  on  the 
right,  terminating  in  large  buttes  of  naked  rock.  The  trail  was  good,  and 
the  country  interesting ;  and  at  nightfall  we  encamped  in  an  open  [jJace 
among  the  pines,  where  we  built  a  strong  fort.  The  mountains  e.xhibit 
their  usual  varied  growth  of  flowers,  and  at  this  place  I  noticed,  among 
others,  Thcrmopsis  »iontana,  whose  bright-yellow  color  makes  it  a  sho\v\ 
plant.  This  has  been  a  characteristic  in  many  parts  of  the  country  since 
reaching  the  Uintah  waters.  W'ith  tields  of  iris  were  A(piii€i^ia  (•ivru!(a, 
violets,  esparcette,  and  strawberries. 

At  dark  we  perceived  a  fire  in  the  edge  of  the  pines  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  valley.  We  had  evidently  not  been  discovered,  ami,  at  the  re 
port  of  a  gun  and  the  blaze  of  fresh  fuel  which  was  hea[)ed  on  uur  fires, 
those  of  the  strangers  were  instantly  extinguished.  In  the  inorninif  they 
were  found  to  be  a  party  of  six  trappers  who  had  ventured  out  amoncf  the 
mountains  after  beaver.  They  informed  us  that  two  of  the  number  with 
which  they  started  had  been  already  killed  by  the  Indians — one  ol  them 
but  a  few  days  since — by  the  Arapahoes  we  had  latt^ly  seen,  who  had  toum! 
him  alone  at  a  camp  on  this  river,  and  c.irried  off  his  traps  and  aniniab. 
As  they  were  desirous  to  join  us  the  hunters  reanned  with  ihem  to  tluir 
encampment,  and  wo  continued  up  the  valley,  m  which  the  stream  rapidly 
diminished,  breaking 'into  small  tributaries    -every  hollow  affording  water. 


outitry  since 
<ria  fivrulta, 


SF.COXD  EXJ'RniTfON—JOrNKD  HY  A  PARTY  OF  TRAPPERS.    403 

At  our  noon  halt  the  hunters  joined  us  with  the  trappers.  While  pre- 
paring' lo  start  from  their  encampment  the)'  found  themselves  suddenly  sur- 
roiiiuled  by  a  party  of  Arapahoes,  who  informed  them  that  their  scouts  had 
discovered  a  large  L'tah  village  in  the  Bayou  Salade  (South  Park),  and 
that  a  large  war-party,  consisting  of  ahnost  every  man  in  the  village  except 
those  who  were  too  old  to  go  to  war,  were  going  over  to  attack  them.  The 
main  body  had  ascended  the  left  fork  of  the  river,  which  afforded  a  better 
pass  than  the  branch  we  were  on  ;  and  this  party  had  followed  our  trail,  in 
order  that  we  might  add  our  force  to  theirs.  Carson  informed  them  that 
we  were  too  far  ahead  to  turn  back,  l)ut  would  join  theni  in  the  bayou  ;  and 
the  Indians  went  off  apparently  satisfied.  By  the  temperature  of  boiling 
water  our  elevation  here  was  ten  thousand  four  hundred  and  thirty  feet ; 
;uid  still  the  pine-forest  continued,  and  grass  was  good. 

In  the  afternoon  we  continued  our  road-  occasionally  through  open 
pines,  with  a  very  gradual  ascent.  We  surprised  a  herd  of  buffalo,  enjoy- 
iiiL,^  the  shad''  at  a  small  lake  among  the  pines  ;  antl  they  macie  the  dry 
liranches  crack,  as  they  broke  through  the  woods.  In  a  ride  of  about  three- 
(juarters  of  an  hour,  antl  having  ascended  perhaps  eight  hundred  feet,  we 
reached  the  simmit  of  riir,  i)i\  luixd  ridce,  which  would  thus  have  an  esti- 
mat'  -  dit  of  eleven  thousand  two  hundred  feet.  Here  the  river  spreads 
itseli  I'i'  .  small  branches  and  springs,  heading  nearly  in  the  summit  of  the 
ridge,  which  is  very  narrow.  Immediately  below  us  was  a  green  valley, 
ihrough  which  ran  a  stream  ;  and  a  short  distance  opposite  rose  snowy 
mountains,  whose  summits  were  formed  into  peaks  of  naked  rock. 

We  soon  afterward  satisfied  ourselves  that  immediately  beyond  these 
mountains  was  the  main  branch  of  the  Arkansas  River  —most  probably 
heading  directly  with  th(;  little  stream  below  us,  which  gathered  its  waters  in 
the  snowy  mountains  near  by.  Descriptions  of  the  rugg(?d  character  of  the 
mountains  around  th"-  head  of  the  Arkansas,  which  their  appearance  amply 
justified,  deterred  me  from  making  any  attemjit  to  reach  it,  which  would 
have  involved  a  greater  length  of  time  than  now  remained  at  my  disposal. 

In  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  we  descendcnl  from  the  summit  of  the 
pass  into  the  creek  below,  our  road  having  been  very  much  controlled  and 
Interrupted  by  the  pines  antl  springs  on  the  mountain-side.  Turning  up 
the  stream,  we  encamped  on  a  bottom  of  good  grass  near  its  head,  which 
gathers  its  waters  in  the  dividing  crest  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and,  ac- 
irding  to  the  best  information  we  could  obtain,  separated  only  by  the 
"cky  wall  of  the  ridge  from  the  head  of  the  main  Arkansas  River. 

Hy  til  observations  of  the  evening,  the  latitude  of  our  encampment  wa.s 
;q  20  24  ',  and  south  of  which,  therefore,  is  the  head  of  the  Arkansas 
River,  The  stream  on  which  we  had  encamped  is  the  head  of  either  the 
I "ntainc-(fiii-/)oui(,  a  branch  of  the  Arkansas,  or  the  remotest  head  of  the 


\fk   '    ;'■ 


f-     li'li 


-j, 


'     •■'■'»  !il! 


1 

i 

MHgu 

'  ri 

iPf  ■: 

tj' 

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1 

I 

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1             ; 

1 

r'^'l  '!|i   i 

,:      t     ' 
1 

■ 

i  ■ 

i  - 

.  j 

404 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  UFE—JOH.Y  CHARLES  ERIlMONT. 


South  Fork  of  the  Platte  ;  as  which  it  is  laid  down  on  the  map.  But  de- 
scending- it  only  through  a  portion  of  its  course,  we  have  not  been  able  to 
settle  this  point  satisfactorily. 

In  the  evening  a  band  of  bulTalo  furnished  a  little  excitement,  l)y  charg- 
ing through  the  camp. 

On  the  following  day  we  descended  the  st.-eam  by  an  excellent  buffalo 
trail,  along  the  open  grassy  bottom  of  the  river.  On  our  right  the  bavou 
was  bordered  by  a  mountainous  range,  crested  with  rocky  and  naked  peaks ; 
and  below  it  had  a  beautiful  park-like  character  of  pretty  level  prairies,  in- 
terspersed among  low  spurs,  wooded  openly  with  pine  and  quaking  asp, 
contrasting  well  with  the  denser  pines  which  swept  around  on  the  moun- 
tain sides. 

Descending  always  the  valley  of  the  stream,  toward  noon  we  descried 
a  mounted  party  descending  the  point  of  a  spur,  and,  judging  them  to  l)e 
Arapahoes — who,  defeated  or  victorious,  were  ecjually  dangerous  to  us,  and 
with  whom  a  fight  would  be  inevitable — we  hurried  to  post  ourselves  as 
strongly  as  possible  on  some  willow-islands  in  the  river.  We  had  scarcely 
halted  when  they  arrived,  proving  to  be  a  party  of  Utah  women,  who  told 
us  that  on  the  other  side  of  the  ridge  their  village  was  fighting  with  the 
Arapahoes.  As  soon  as  they  had  given  us  this  information  they  filled  the 
air  with  cries  and  lamentations,  which  made  us  understand  that  some  of 
their  chiefs  had  been  killed. 

Extending-  along  the  river,  directly  ahead  of  us,  was  a  low  pinv  ridj^a:, 
leaving  between  it  and  the  stream  a  sm.xll  open  bottom,  on  which  the 
Utahs  had  very  injudiciously  placed  their  village,  which,  according  to  the 
women,  numbered  about  three  hundred  warriors.  Advancing  in  the  cover 
of  the  pines,  the  Arapahoes,  about  ilaylight,  charged  into  the  villagr,  driv- 
ing off  a  great  number  of  their  horses,  and  killing  four  men  ;  among  them 
the  principal  chief  of  the  village.  They  drove  the  horses  perhaps  a  mile 
beyond  \\\v.  village,  to  the  end  of  a  hollow,  where  they  had  previously  forted 
at  the  edge  of  the  pines.  Mere  the  Utahs  had  instantly  attacked  them  in 
turn,  and,  according  to  the  report  of  the  women,  were  getting  rather  the 
best  of  the  day.  The  women  pressed  us  eagerly  to  join  with  their  people, 
and  would  immediately  have  provided  us  with  the  best  horses  at  the  vil- 
lage ;  but  it  was  not  for  us  to  interfere  in  such  a  conflict.  Neither  party- 
were  our  friends,  or  under  our  protection  ;  and  each  was  ready  to  prey 
upon  us  that  could.  Ikit  we  couUl  not  help  feeling  an  unusual  excitement 
at  being  within  a  fe\'  hundred  )ards  of  a  fight  in  which  five  hundred  men 
were  closely  engaged,  and  hearing  the  sharp  cracks  of  tlieir  rillos.  \\e 
were  in  a  bad  position,  and  subject  to  be  attacked  in  it.  Either  party  whidi 
we  might  meet,  victorious  or  ilefeated,  was  c(;rtain  to  fall  upon  us  ;  and, 
gearing  up  immediatcdy,  we  kept  close  along  the  pines  of  the  ritli.;!',  having- 


Sf.CO.V/)  F.SI'Enn lOA'—FIGHT  OF  UTAIfS  AXn  ARA I'AJIOKS.      405 

it  between  us  and  the  village,  and  keeping  the  scouts  on  the  summit,  to 
o-ivc  us  notice  of  the  approach  of  Indians.  As  we  passed  by  the  village, 
which  was  immediately  below  us,  horsemen  were  galloping  to  and  fro,  and 
[rroiips  of  people  were  gathered  around  those  who  were  wounded  and  dead, 
and  who  were  being  brought  in  from  the  field.  We  continued  to  press  on, 
and,  crossing  another  fork,  which  came  in  from  the  right,  after  having  made 
fifteen  miles  from  the  village,  fortified  ourselves  strongly  in  the  pines,  a 
short  distance  from  the  river. 

During  the  afternoon  Pike's  Peak  had  been  plainly  in  view  before  us, 
and,  from  our  encampment,  bore  north  87'  east  by  compass.  This  was  a 
familiar  object,  and  it  had  for  us  the  face  of  an  old  friend.  At  its  foot  were 
the  springs,  where  we  had  spent  a  pleasant  day  in  coming  out.  Near  it 
Avere  the  habitations  of  civilized  men  ;  and  it  overlooked  the  froad,  smooth 
plains,  which  promised  us  an  easy  journey  to  our  home. 

The  next  day  we  left  the  river,  wdiich  continued  its  course  toward 
Pike's  Peak  ;  and,  taking  a  southeasterly  direction,  in  about  ten  miles  we 
crossed  a  gentle  ridge,  and,  issuing  from  the  South  Park,  found  ourselves 
involved  among  the  broken  spurs  of  the  mountains  which  border  the  great 
prairie  plains.  Although  broken  and  extremely  rugged,  the  country  was 
verv  interesting,  being  well  watered  by  numerous  aftkients  to  the  Arkansas 
River,  and  covered  with  grass  and  a  variety  of  trees.  The  streams  which, 
in  the  upper  part  of  th(;ir  course,  ran  through  grassy  and  open  hollows, 
after  a  few  miles  all  descended  into  deep  and  impracticable  canons,  through 
which  they  found  their  way  to  the  Arkansas  Valley.  Here  the  buffalo  trails 
we  hail  followed  were  dispersed  among  the  hills,  or  crossed  ovei  into  the 
more  open  valleys  of  other  streams. 

During  the  day  our  road  was  fatiguing  and  difficult,  reminding  us  much, 
by  its  steep  and  rocky  character,  of  our  travelling  the  year  liefore  among 
the  Wind  River  Mountains  ;  but  always  at  night  we  found  some  grassy 
bottom,  which  afforded  us  a  pleasant  cam]).  In  the  deep  seclusion  of  these 
little  streams  we  found  always  an  abundant  pasturage  and  a  wild  liixui.- 
ance  of  plants  and  trees.  Aspens  and  pines  were  the  prevailing  timber  ; 
on  the  creeks  oak  was  frequent  ;  but  the  narrow-leaved  cotton-wood  {J^opn- 
Ins  aiii^usiijoiia),  of  unusually  large  size,  and  seven  or  eight  feet  in  dia-ne- 
ter,  was  the  principal  tree.  With  these  were  mingled  a  variety  of  shrubby 
trees,  which  aided  to  make  the  ravines  almost  im[)enetrablc. 

After  several  days'  laborious  travelling  we  succeeded  in  extricating 
ourselves  from  the  mountains,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  2Sth  encam|>ed 
immediately  at  their  'bot,  on  a  handsome  tributary  to  the  Arkansas  River 
In  the  afternoon  wc  descended  the  stream,  winding  our  way  along  the  bot- 
toms, which  were  densely  wooded  with  oak,  and  in  the  e\'ening  encamped 
near  the  main  river. 


i;  ;■ 


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11^ 


1% 


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1 


IM  i 


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3  i  .iij: 

'   r    '111 


H  ! 


*, 


406 


y]//-;.l/('/A'.V  <;/••  A/y  I.IFF.—JOIIX  C//.tA'f./:S  FR/'ArOXT. 


Continuing-  the  n(;xt  clay  our  road  along  the  Arkansas,  and  moftiri'-'  on 
the  way  a  war  party  of  Arapahoe  Indians  (who  hud  recently  been  commit- 
ting some  outrages  at  I'ent's  I'"ort,  killing  stock  and  driving  off  horses;,  we 
arrived  before  sunset  at  the />//r/'/(3  near  the  mouth  o{  \.\\q  I'oniainc-nui- 
Iwitil  lliver,  where  v,e  had  the  jileasure  to  find  a  number  of  our  i)ld  acquaint- 
ances. The  little  settlement  aijpeared  in  a  thriving  condition  ;  and  in  tin- 
interv.:tl  of  our  absence  another  had  been  established  on  the  river,  sonic 
thirty  miles  above. 

June  30//'.— Our  ca^ali  .ide  moved  rapidl\-  down  the  Arkansas,  alon- 
the  b.-oad  road  which  follows  the  river,  and  on  July  1st  wc;  arrived  at 
Bent's  l''ori,  about  seveiU)-  miles  below  the  mouth  of  the  Fonlauic-qui-houit. 

A.S  v/e  emerged  into  view  from  the  groves  on  the  river,  we  were  saluted 
with  a  displa)'  of  the  national  ilag  and  repeated  discharges  from  the  c;uns 
of  the  fort,  where  we  were  received  by  Mr.  George  IJent  with  a  cordial 
welcome  and  a  frientlly  hospitality,  in  the  enjoyment  of  which  wc  s[)ent 
several  very  agreeable  days.  \Vc  were  now  in  the  region  where  our 
nioimtaincers  were  accustomed  to  live  :  and  all  tiie  dangers  and  difficulties 
of  the  road  being  considered  past,  four  of  them,  including  Carson  and 
Walker,  remained  at  the  fort. 

On  tin;  5th  we  resumed  our  jom-ney  down  the  Arkansas,  travelling' 
along*"  a  broad  wagon  road,  and  encamped  about  twenty  miles  helnv  the 
fort.  On  the  way  we  met  a  vei*y  large  village  of  Sioux  and  Cheyenne  In- 
dians, who,  with  the  Arapahoes,  were  returning  from  the  crossing  of  the 
Arkansas,  where  they  had  l)een  to  meet  the  Kioway  and  Comanche  In- 
dians. A  few  days  previous  they  had  m;issacretl  a  party  of  filteen  Dela- 
wares,  wliom  they  had  discovered  in  a  fort  on  the  Smoky  Hill  River,  los- 
ing in  the  affair  sev«,'vai  of  their  own  people.  riiey  were  desirous  that  \sv 
should  bear  a  pacific  message  to  the  Delawares  on  the  frontier,  from  whom 
they  expected  retaliation  ;  and  we  passed  through  them  without  any  diifi- 
cultv  or  delay.  DisperM-d  ov<  r  the  jjlain,  in  scattered  bodies  of  horsemen 
and  family  groups  of  women  and  children,  with  dog-trains  carrying  bai,^- 
g''age,  and  long  lines  of  |>ack-horses,  their  appearance  was  picturesque  and 
imposing. 

I  left,  at  this  encampment,  the  Arkansas  River,  taking  a  northeasterly 
diiirer^'on  across  the  elevat'ed  divitling  gnnrnds  which  separate  that  river 
from  the  waters  of  the  Tlatte.  Oi*  the  7th  we  crossed  a  large  stream 
about  fort:y  yards  wide,  and  one  or  two  feet  deep,  flowing  with  a  lively 
current  on  a  sandy  bevl.  The  discolored  and  muddy  appearance  ol  the 
water  imdicated  that  k  proceeded  irom  recent  r^uns  ;  and  we  are  inclined 
t»  ©Wteiitler  this  a  Ttetnch  oJ't!>e  Smokx    Mill  Ri\-er,  although,  possibly,  it 

'■'*■'?  tlv,    I\iwnev:  Fork.  i>l"the  Arkansas.      He)-ond  this  stream  we  trav- 

^j.  u\L.     ..j,i:  j,rod  level  piaiBries,^  halting-  at  small  ponds  asid  holes  ot 


id  mef>tinc;[  on 
been  coinmit- 
iff  horses),  \vi> 
Foniaiiic-qui- 
■  old  acquaint- 
n  ;  and  in  tlii; 

0  fiver,  some 

kansas,  aloii- 
ve  arrived  at 
uu-qui-ltouit. 

1  were  saluted 
rem  the  i^ims 
dth  a  cordial 
lich  we  spent 
)n  where  oiu- 
ind  difficnldes 
;■  Carson  and 

sas,  travellinL,' 

les  belnv  Hie 

Che\enne  lii- 

ossin;^-  of  the 

"omanche  In- 

fifteen  Deia- 

11  River,  los- 

irous  that  \vr 

r,  from  whom 

out  an\-  (liifi- 

of  horsemen 

arryinjr  bag- 

iiresque  and 

nordieasterl) 

ate  that  river 
an^^e  stream 
with  a  lively 

i'"ance  ot  the 
are  inclined 

1,  [lossihly.  it 
.nil  "■'■  tra\- 
1(1  holes  of 


I 


It 


I    •     :;\\ 


3:    ■ 


M: 


i  i!| 


\^m  \ 


lAlii^i.iij 

S/'CO\J)  EXrEDlTJOX—NEARING  IIOMR. 


407 


water,  and  using  for  our  fires  the  (wis  dc  rac/ic,  the  country  being  without 
timber.  On  the  evening  of  the  8th  we  encamped  in  a  colton-wood  grove 
on  the  bar  ks  of  a  sandy  stream-bed,  where-  there  was  water  in  holes  suf- 
ficient for  lie  camp.  1  lere  several  hollows,  or  tlry  creeks  with  sandy  beds, 
met  toq^ether,  forming  the  head  of  a  stream  which  afterward  prov(.d  to  be 
the  Smoky  Hill  Fork  of  the  Kansas  River. 

The  next  morning,  as  we  were  lea\ing  our  encampment,  a  number  of 
Arapahoe  Indians  were  discovered.  They  belonged  to  a  war  party  -which 
had  scattered  over  the  prairie  in  returning  from  an  expedition  against  the 
Pawnees. 

As  we  travelled  down  the  valley,  water  gathered  rapidly  in  the  sandy 
bed  from  many  little  tributaries  ;  and  at  evening  it  had  become  a  handsome 
stream,  tifty  to  eighty  feet  in  width,  with  a  lively  current  in  small  channels, 
the  water  being  principally  dispersed  among  quicksands. 

(iradually  enlarging,  in  a  few  days'  march  it  became  a  river  eight)' 
yards  in  breadth,  wooded  with  occasional  groves  of  cotton-wood.  Our  road 
was  generally  over  level  uplands  bordering  the  river,  which  were  closely 
covered  with  n  sward  of  buffalo  grass. 

'^n  tin:  10th  we  entered  again  the  buffalo  range,  where  wc;  had  found 
ihesc  animals  so  abundant  on  our  outward  journey,  and  halted  for  a  day 
among  numertius  luM'ds,  in  order  to  make  a  provision  of  meat  sufficient  to 
rarry  us  to  tlu;  frontier. 

A  few  da\s  afterward  we  encamped,  in  a  pleasant  evening,  on  a  high 
river  prairie,  the  stream  being  less  than  a  hundred  yards  broad.  During 
the  night  we  had  a  succession  of  thunder-storms,  with  heavy  and  continu- 
ous rain,  and  toward  morning  the  water  sudtlcnly  burst  over  the  banks, 
iloodiiig  the  bottoms,  and  becoming  a  large  river  (wg.  or  six  hundred  yards 
in  breadth.  The  darkness  of  the  night  and  incessant  rain  had  concealed 
hum  the  guard  the  rise  of  the  water ;  and  the  river  broke  into  the  camp  so 
■-uddenly,  that  the  baggage  was  instantly  covered,  and  all  our  i^'rishable 
collections  almost  entirely  ruined,  and  the  hard  labor  of  many  months  de- 
stroyed in  a  moment. 

On  the  17th  we  discovered  a  large  village  of  Indians  encamped  at  the 
mouth  of  a  handsomely  wooded  stream  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river. 
Readily  interring,  from  the  nature  of  the  encampment,  that  they  were 
I'awnce  Indians,  and  confidently  expecting  good  treatment  from  a  people 
who  receive  regularly  an  annuity  from  the  Government,  we  proceedeil  di- 
recdy  to  the  village,  where  we  found  assembled  nearly  all  the  Pawnee  tribe, 
who  were  now  returning  from  the  crossing  of  the  Arkansas,  where  they 
had  met  the  Kioway  and  Comanche  Imlians.  We  were  received  by  them 
with  the  unfriendly  rudeness  and  characteristic  insolence  which  they  never 
lail  to  display  whenever  they  find  an  occasion  for  doing  so  with  impunity. 


'  1 

;| 

iff 

If 

f 

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408 


J/y;.l/C>//v'.V  ()/■   .!/)•  Ill-F.—JOHN  CHARLES  FRP.,\TONT. 


The  little  that  remained  of  our  _<;oo(ls  was  distributed  amoiii^  them,  but 
proved  entirely  insufficient  to  satisfy  their  greedy  rapacity  ;  and,  after  some 
delay,  and  considerable  difficulty,  we  succeeded  in  extricating  ourseKx-s 
from  th(!  village,  and  encamped  on  the  river  about  fifteen  miles  below.* 

The  country  through  which  W(-  had  been  travelling  since  leaving-  the 
Arkansas  Ri\er,  for  a  distance  of  two  hundred  and  sixty  miles,  presented 
to  the  eye  only  a  succession  of  far-stretching  green  prairies  covered  with 
the  unbroken  verdure  of  the  buffalo  grass,  and  sparingly  wooded  aloiv  the 
streams  with  straggling  trees  and  occasional  groves  of  cotton-wood  ;  but 
here  the  country  began  perceptibly  to  change  its  character,  becomincr  a 
more  fertile,  wooded,  and  beautiful  region,  covered  with  a  profusion  of 
grasses,  and  watered  with  innumerable  little  streams  which  were  wooded 
Avith  oak,  large  elms,  and  the  usual  varieties  oftimber  common  to  the  lower 
course  of  the  Kansas  River. 

As  we  advanced,  the  country  steadily  improved;  gradually  assimilatin"^ 
itself  in  appearance  to  the  northwestern  part  of  the  State  of  Missouri.  The 
beautiful  sward  of  the  buffalo  grass,  which  is  regarded  as  the  best  and  most 
nutritious  found  o\\  the  prairies,  appeared  now  only  in  patches,  being  re- 
placeil  by  a  longer  and  coarser  grass,  which  covered  the  face  of  the  coun- 
try luxuriantly.  The  difference  in  the  character  of  the  grasses  became  sud- 
den!)' evident  in  the  weakened  condition  of  our  animals,  which  began  sen- 
sibly to  fail  as  soon  as  we  quitted  the  buffalo  grass. 

The  river  preservetl  a  uniform  breadth  of  eighty  or  a  hundred  yards, 
Avith  broad  bottoms  continuously  timbered  with  large  cotton-wood  trees, 
among  which  were  interspersed  a  few  other  \arieties. 

While  engaged  in  crossing  one  of  the  numerous  creeks  which  frequentiv 
impeded  and  checked  our  way,  sometimes  obliging  us  to  ascend  them  for 
several  miles,  one  of  the  people  ( Alexis  Ayot )  was  shot  through  the  le;,' 
by  the  accidental  discharge  of  a  rille — a  mortifying  and  painful  mischance, 
to  be  crippled  for  life  by  an  accitlent,  after  having  nearly  accomplished  in 
safety  a  long  and  eventful  journey.  Me  was  a  young  man  of  remarkably 
good  and  cheerful  temper,  and  l-.ad  been  among  the  useful  and  efticient 
men  of  the  party. 

After  having  travelled  directly  along  its  banks  for  two  hundred  and 
ninety  miles,  we  left  the  river,  where  it  bore  suddenly  off  in  a  northwesterly 
direction,  toward  its  junction  with  the  Republican  Fork  of  the  Kansas,  dis- 
tant about  sixty  miles  ;  and,  continuing  our  easterly  course,  in  about  twenty 
miles  we  entered  the  wagon-road  from  Santa  Fe  to  Independence,  and  on 

*  III  ;i  report  to  the  (.lepaitmenl,  from  M.njor  Wharton,  wlio  visited  the  P.iwnee  village- 
with  .\  military  force  some  months  afterward,  it  is  stated  that  the  Indians  had  iiiteiulocl  to  attack 
our  party  during  the  night  we  remained  at  this  encampment,  but  were  prevented  by  the  iiueriwiiiioii 
of  the  Pawnee   Loiips. 


;  I'.iwnee  villages 
itcmk-d  to  attack 
I-  the  imerpoiitiun 


g 


11 

i,::|'P: 

i, .' 

11'''^ 

:  .: ; 

111 

) 

1 

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mi 

li 

*> 


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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


IL25  ill  1.4 


1.6 


u. 


Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


33  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


// 


#/7^  A. 


fe 


y. 


(A 


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S"  €?. 


.& 


C/u 


Ill 


r«i 


SECOND  EXrEDITICN—HOME  AGAIN. 


409 


the  last  day  of  July  encamped  again  at  the  little  town  of  Kansas,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Missouri  River, 

During  our  protracted  absence  of  fourteen  months,  in  the  course  of 
which  wc  had  necessarily  been  exposed  to  great  varieties  of  weather  and 
of  climate,  no  one  case  of  sickness  had  ever  occurred  among  us. 

Here  ended  our  land  journey ;  and  the  day  following  our  arrival  we 
foimd  ourselves  on  board  a  steamboat  rapidly  gliding  down  the  broad  Mis- 
souri. Our  travel-worn  animals  had  not  been  sold  and  dispersed  over  the 
country  to  renewed  labor,  but  were  placed  at  good  pasturage  on  the  fron- 
tier, and  were  ready  to  do  their  part  in  the  coming  expedition. 

On  the  6th  of  August  we  arrived  at  St.  Louis,  where  the  party  was 
finally  disbanded  ;  a  greater  number  of  the  men  having  their  homes  in  the 
neighborhood. 

Andreas  Fuentes  also  remained  here,  having  readily  found  employment 
for  the  winter,  and  was  one  of  the  men  engaged  to  accompany  me  the  pres- 
ent year. 

Pablo  Hernandez  remained  in  the  family  of  Senator  Benton,  where  he 
was  well  taken  care  of,  and  conciliated  good-will  by  his  docility,  intelligence, 
and  amiability.  General  Almonte,  the  Mexican  minister  at  Washington, 
to  whom  he  was  of  course  made  known,  kindly  offered  to  take  charge  of 
him,  and  to  carry  him  back  to  Mexico  ;  but  the  boy  preferred  to  remain  where 
he  was  until  he  got  an  education,  for  which  he  showed  equal  ardor  and  ap- 
titude. 

This  was  the  promise  of  Pablo's  childhood.  It  might  be  supposed 
that  the  dreadful  circumstances  in  which  his  father  and  mother  met  their 
death  would  have  remained  fi.xed  in  his  memory,  and  that  grief  and  com- 
passion for  them  and  gratitude  to  the  strangers  with  whom  he  found  safe 
refuge  and  who  cared  for  him  afterward  as  their  own,  would  have  taken 
possession  of  his  mind  and  shaped  his  life.  We  were  all  interested  in 
him.  The  disaster  which  had  deprived  him  of  parents  and  country  seemed 
to  make  him  our  special  charge,  and  it  was  settled  that  we  would  give  him 
his  start  in  life,  confident  that  his  winning  manners  and  intelligence  would 
carry  him  successfully  on  his  way.  Put  the  early  promise  was  misleading. 
.\s  he  grew  up  toward  manhood  and  his  instincts  developed,  it  was  found 
that  he  would  fit  into  nothing  good.  The  root  of  his  character  seemed 
strangely  bad,  and  as  it  developed,  led  him  into  wrong  courses  and  away 
from  us.  He  went  to  Mexico,  where  for  a  short  time  we  heard  of  him 
disagreeably. 

Afr^ir  some  years  the  report  came  to  us  that  he  was  the  Joaquin  who 
for  some  years  was  so  well  krnwn  as  a  robber  chief  in  the  San  Joaquin 
Valley  and  the  mountain  country.  Whether  or  not  this  was  so,  it  is  the 
last  that  I  heard  of  Pablo. 


i;ii;i 


410 


MEMOIRS  OF  MV  LIFE— JOHN  CI/ARI.ES  FKLMOAT. 


Our  Chinook  Indian  had  his  wish  to  see  the  whites  fully  gratified.  He 
accompanied  me  to  Washington,  and,  after  remaining  several  months  at 
the  Columbia  College,  was  sent  by  the  Indian  Department  to  Philaddiihia, 
where,  among  other  things,  he  learned  to  read  and  write  well,  and  speak 
the  English  language  with  some  fluency. 


CHAPTER  Xri. 

Meet  my  Nfother  Agnin. — Mr.  Tk'nton's  Miiul  Preoccuiiied. — Why  the  Mormons  Chose  Salt 
l.iikc.— The  I'rtsitlciit,  Mr.  I'olk,  Sceptical. — Secretary  of  the  Navy,  Mr.  liancruft. — Ail 
Ready  for  my  Third  l^.xiieditiun. — 'I'hree  Kinj^ly  Men. — A  Close  Call. — The  Claimant. — 
Archamheau  lirings  dcjod  Tidinj;s. — (.!atch  a  Meditative  Naked  Indian. — Carson  Cries 
"("lood  ("lod  !  Look  'I'here  !" — Compelled  to  Divide  my  I'arty. — Caiitain  Sutter. — Sonie- 
thinjj  Ahotit  Ihickinjr  Horses.— l-'iirht  with  Indian  Horse-thieves. — Ma.wvell  Kills  an 
Iiulian. — Owens  Discovered  liold. — In  the  San  Joaquin  Valley. — Letter  to  Mrs,  I're- 
moiu.— In  the  Valley  of  San  Josii. — Some  Enormous  Trees. 

The  ciij^ht  months  that  I  was  to  have  been  absent  had  extended  to  four- 
teen. Mrs.  Fremont  had  been  waiting  in  Saint  Louis  for  me  and  suspense 
had  deepened  into  anxiety,  for  no  word  had  been  heard  from  me  after  I 
had  left  the  lower  Cokmibia  in  November  of  '43.  The  Seeretary  of  War, 
Mr.  Wilkins,  had  offered  to  send  a  party  of  dragoons  to  search  for  me, 
but  niiturall}'  it  occurred  to  m\-  friends  to  reph"  that  if  I  could  not  hnd  my 
way  out  the  dragoons  could  not  do  it  for  me.  In  those  days  there  was 
no  communication  possible  to  a  party  involved  in  the  solitudes  of  the  in- 
terior country  beyond  the  mountains,  and  so  it  was  that  the  first  tidings 
(if  our  safet}'  were  brought  by  myself  when  I  reached  Saint  Louis  in  August 

of  44. 

In  Saint  Louis,  where  the  risks  and  uncertainties  of  the  mountain  country 
were  familiarly  known,  much  sympathy  had  been  felt  for  Mrs.  Fren-.ont 
as  the  time  wore  on  and  no  intelligence  came.  Man}'  warm  expressions 
of  welcome  were  given  me,  and  we  left  for  Washington  animated  and  grat- 
ified b\'  the  hearty  good  wishes  of  strangers  as  well  as  friends. 

I  arranged  for  the  two  Indian  bovs.  Juan  and  Gregorio,  to  winter  on  a 
property  belonging  to  Mr.  Benton,  near  Lexington,  Kentucky.  They  took 
with  them,  to  care  for,  a  beautiful  saddle-horse  which  I  had  brought  from 
(.'alifomia.  He  was  to  rest  for  the  winter  in  the  blue-grass  region.  Sacra- 
mento, as  he  was  named,  was  gifted  with  two  fine  qualities — courage,  and 
a  remarkable  power  for  leaping — a  specialty  with  him.  He  was  beautifully 
made,  an  iron-gray  of  the  best  California  stock,  about  four  years  old,  well 
trained,  a  perfect  saddle-horse. 

Chinook  I  took  with  me  to  Washington.  lie  parted  with  regret  froiu 
tile  other  boys,  but  every  feeling  was  soon  absorbed  in  the  delight  of  "see- 
ing' the  whites  "  in  their  own  homes  and  strange  ways  of  tra\el. 

1  found  the  family  well,  but  several  lives  had  gone  out  from  the  circle 
"four  friends.  Mr.  Nicollet,  Mr.  Hassler.  and  Senator  Linn  had  died  soon 
lifter  my  leaving  in  '4^:5.     The   death  of   Mr.   Nicollet  in  September,    4-^, 


3i 


m 


i 


412 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LllR—JOHi^  CHARLES  ER£mONT. 


■■"  !l 


lir  ■■ 


ii:    1^ 


1=  M) 


1  i'l 


though  expected  was  sudden.  From  being  restless  he  liad  become  morbid 
and  soUtary,  going  off  alone  like  a  wounded  animal  tr\ing  to  escape  from 
its  hurt.  He  had  come  up  to  Washington  and  had  gone  to  a  liotci,  wIkiv 
he  was  accidentally  found  by  a  friend  of  the  Benton  family,  Dr.  Martin 
In  his  illness  former  scenes  and  his  own  language  had  taken  possession  of 
his  mind,  and  it  seems  that  he  had  not  been  able  to  make  himself  known 
to  the  people  of  the  house.  The  clerk  at  the  office  told  Dr.  Martin  of 
the  unknown  French  gentleman,  and  asked  him  to  see  who  it  was.  Thi; 
doctor  found  him  in  this  condition  and  arranged  to  notify  his  friends  and 
have  him  removed  at  once  to  Baltimore,  ^^'hen  he  came  for  him  the  next 
morning  it  was  too  l.ite.  He  had  died  in  the  night,  alone.  It  was  the 
ending  of  a  good,  and  useful,  and  pleasing  life.  I  deeply  regretted  him, 
and  missed  long  his  fv'iMidly  and  considerate  presence. 

After  all  it  would  have  been  a  fitter  end  for  him  to  have  died  under  the 
open  sky,  and  be  buried,  rolled  up  in  a  blanket,  by  the  side  of  some  stream 
in  the  mountains,  than  to  have  had  life  close  in  the  night  and  alone  at  a 
hotel. 

Mr.  Hassler  died  in  Philadelphia  in  the  November  of  the  same  year. 
More  fortunate  than  Mr.  Nicollet,  he  was  in  the  midst  of  his  family.  This 
distinguished  man  was  introduced  here  by  his  countr3man,  Albert  Gallatin; 
and  through  him  was  sent  as  scientific  ambassador  to  London  and  Paris 
with  the  outfit  and  salary  of  a  foreign  minister  ;  so  far  as  I  know  the  onh' 
occasion  when  science  has  been  so  honored  by  this  country. 

In  October,  Mr.  Benton's  friend  and  colleague.  Senator  Linn,  had  also 
died.  His  death  was  a  serious  loss  to  the  friends  of  Oregon.  Mr.  Linn, 
though  of  a  most  pleasing  and  courteous  manner,  was  unyielding  and  per- 
sistent. This  loss  was  felt,  when  in  the  following  year  a  notice  to  England 
to  terminate  the  joint  occupation  was  introduced  in  the  Senate.  The  idea 
was  created  by  the  opposition  that  this  was  "a  conspiracy  to  force  war" 
and  the  Eastern  commercial  interest  was  roused  to  alarm,  and  brou^dit  tu 
bear  on  the  Senate — defeating  the  bill  by  28  to  18. 

On  ni}'  arrival  at  Washington  I  reported  my  return  to  General  Seott. 
and  called  upon  the  Secretar}-  of  War,  Mr.  Wilkins,  of  Pennsjlvania,  who 
in  his  frank  quick  manner  unaffectedly  expressed  surprise  at  my  apparent 
youth,  but  pleasantly  qualified  this  by  saying  that  in  my  case  it  was  a  good 
failing,  as  young  men  never  saw  the  obstacles. 

I  had  now  returned  to  the  satisfactions  and  enjoyment  of  family  life. 
Lixing  so  long  on  the  memory  onh'  of  this  it  had  become  too  unsubstantial. 
In  the  first  weeks  at  Washington  I  had  the  great  pleasure  to  see  my  mother 
again.  During  recent  }ears  this  had  become  rare.  To  spare  my  time  and 
be  with  me  in  the  family  surroundings  she  came  ti)  Washington  and  re- 
mained until  the  cold  weather  obli<red  me  to  take  her  back  to  the  South. 


MEET  MY  MOTHER  AGAIX. 


413 


With  licr  presence  the  past  time  of  careless  boyhood  was  Hnked  in  a  most 
satistiecl  and  happy  way  to  the  serious  hibor  of  the  maturer  years  which 
were  advancing;  witli  their  ine\itable  cans. 

A  responsible  Quaker  family  of  Philadelphia  asked  to  have  charge  of 
Chinook  for  the  winter,  and  he  was  accordingly  placed  in  their  care. 
While  settling  myself  to  work  in  preparing  the  results  of  the  journc}'  I 
fcniiut  ni\'  time  constantly  broken  in  upon. 

To  Mr.  Preuss  had  been  assij^ned  the  congenial  labor  of  making  up  the 
m.ips.  He  was  now  owner  of  a  comfortable  home  of  his  own  ;  a  good 
hiiiisc  near  the  Arsenal,  which  the  locality  brought  within  his  means.  The 
jai^e  front  room  he  con\erted  into  his  working-room,  where  he  had  space 
and  good  light,  and  there  was  a  lookout  over  the  river,  and  a  long  bit  of 
irrassed  ground  where  Preuss  made  an  arbor  and  where  he  smoked  his  pipe 
as  he  watched  his  child  pla}ing  and  the  cow  grazing. 

The  interesting  character  of  the  regions  \isited  by  this  expedition,  Cali- 
ifornia  chiefly,  drew  much  attention  and  brought  me  many  letters  and  per- 
sonal inquir'  's.  It  became  impossible  to  reconcile  attention  to  visitors  with 
work  in  hand  ;  and  in  order  therefore  to  avoid  this  serious  embarrassment 
1  took  for  a  workshop  a  small  wooden  two-story  house  not  far  from  the 
residence  of  Mr.  Benton.  This  was  well  apart  from  other  buildings  and 
had  about  it  large  enclosed  grounds.  I  had  here  with  me  as  assistant  Mr. 
Joseph  C.  Hubbard,  who,  although  no  older  than  mvself,  was .  already  a 
praetical  astronomer  and  a  rapid  and  skilful  computer,  and  with  his  aid 
the  various  calculations  went  fast.  This  was  the  occupation  of  the  da\- 
li^lit.  To  keep  ourselves  in  practice,  both  being  fond  of  astronomical 
ohservations,  we  mounted  a  transit  instrument,  and  the  house  being  isolated, 
we  were  able  to  vary  our  work  and  have  still  an  interesting  point  to  it. 

Wishing  to  prove  the  accuracy  of  a  sextant  by  tr\Mng  it  against  other 
ohservations,  we  went  for  several  nights  together  quite  late,  when  the 
streets  were  quiet  and  few  passers  to  disturb  the  mercury,  to  a  church  near 
by  where  there  was  a  large  stone  carriage-step  near  the  curb  on  which  to 
set  the  horizon.  Waiting  for  the  stars,  which  I  wanted,  to  come  into 
position  I  rested  more  agreeablv  on  the  ground  half  lying  against  the  stone. 
A  few  days  afterward  a  deacon  of  this  church,  who  lived  opposite,  called 
upon  .Mr.  Benton,  regretting  that  he  had  disagreeable  information  to  give, 
whieh  still  he  thought  it  his  duty  to  impart  to  hiin.  He  said  that  for 
several  nights  he  had  seen  his  son-in-law  in  a  state  of  gross  intoxication 
lyin<;  on  the  pavement  in  front  of  the  church,  and  apparently  unwilling  to 
allow  a  more  sober  companion  who  was  with  him  to  take  him  to  the  house. 

Mr.  Benton  did  not  receive  this  charitable  information  in  the  grateful 
spirit  which  the  informer  had  expected.  On  the  contrary  the  deacon  was 
hrst  frightened  and  then  humiliated.     Mr.  Benton  made  him  understand 


'fi  in 


m 


1 1 


!:i!  ^ 


i'K 


i<^;i 


■■  I 


.)■; 


Ill:i: 


414 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  IJl'K—JOHX  CHAKLFS  IRtlMOX'r. 


that  he  had  converted  an  honorable  fact  into  a  dama<,nn<,'  falsehood  —in  tlic 
way  that  slanders  often  originate — taking  the  color  of  the  mind  from  whi^l, 
engenders  them. 

After  the  computations,  came  the  writing  of  the  Report.  This  iiad  its 
great  interest,  but  was  still  a  task  which  required  concentrated,  systematic 
labor.  Mrs.  Fremont  now  worked  with  me  daily  at  the  little  wnoden 
house,  but  for  her  the  work  had  its  peculiar  interest.  Talking  iiuiilents 
over  made  her  familiar  with  the  minuter  details  of  the  journev,  outside  of 
those  which  we  recorded,  .md  gave  her  a  realizing  sense  of  the  uncertainties 
and  precarious  chances  that  attend  such  travel,  and  which  dav  and  niirht 
lie  in  wait;  and  it  gave  her  for  every  day  an  object  unusual  in  tlie  life  of  a 
woman. 

To  me,  in  drawing  these  results  into  visible  form,  there  was  now  the 
impelling  gratification  of  bringing  into  clear  view  the  different  face  which 
our  examination  had  given  to  the  regions  explored:  their  many  points  of 
general  interest;  their  unexpectedly  great  resources  and  capacities  for  pop- 
ulation and  trade;  thus  vindicating  the  West  in  the  importance  wliieli  thev 
attached  to  that  Territory. 

There  was  but  brief  time  in  which  to  do  this  writing.  In  the  e\  eninfjs 
the  note-books  were  consulted,  and  the  work  thought  out  and  prepared  for 
the  morning.  Jacob  kept  up  the  camp  habit  and  very  early  brought  me 
coffee;  and  punctually  at  nine  o'clock  Mrs.  Fremont  joined  meat  the  work- 
shop. From  that  hour  until  one  the  writing  went  on,  with  seldom  an\- 
thing  to  break  the  thread;  the  dictation  sometimes  continuing  for  hours, 
interrupted  onl\'  when  an  occasional  point  of  exceptional  interest  brought 
out  inquiry  or  discussion.  After  the  four  hours'  stretch  there  was  tea  with 
a  light  luncheon  and  then  a  walk  to  the  river;  and  after,  work  again  until 
dusk. 

Mrs.  Benton  was  alarmed  by  this  pull  on  her  daughter,  but  ]\rr.  Bentnn 
was  delighted.  lie  used  sometimes  to  turn  into  our  workroom  to  enjo} 
the  pleasure  he  had  in  seeing  the  work  grow.  Another  refreshing  rest  of 
the  day  came  when  we  all  met  in  the  evening  at  dinner.  Mr.  Benton  lield 
to  some  observances  in  the  family  life  which,  though  ormal,  were  pleasant. 
He  was  fond  of  that  degree  of  social  decorum  which  respect  for  others"  feel- 
ings should  always  exact  and  is  grateful  to  e\ery  one.  To  him  this  was 
habitual.  With  the  dressing  for  dinner  were  laid  aside  an}-  subjects  not 
suited  to  general  harmony.  Mr.  Benton  always  relaxed  to  the  enjoyment 
of  the  interesting  and  cheerful  dinner-table — himself  contributing  his  larsrc 
share  and  example;  except  when,  on  rare  occasions,  he  came  down  from  tlic 
Senate  preoccupied  by  some  interesting  debate.  One  da}-  he  was  so  mucli 
engrossed  that  he  forgot  his  office  of  carver,  on  which  he  rather  prided  him- 
self— but  continued  biting,  as  he  thought,  a  piece  of  bread — until  lie  w.b 


ichood  — in  the 
ul  from  which 

Tliis  liad  it> 
cd,  systematic 
little  wooden 
kiiii,'  incidents 
iicy,  outside  of 
c  uncertainties 
day  and  nijit 
in  the  lite  of  a 

.'  was  now  tlic 
cnt  face  wliich 
nany  points  of 
acities  for  pop- 
ncc  which  tiiev 

[n  the  evenings 
id  prepared  for 
ly  brouuht  me 
^le  at  the  work- 
:h  seldom  any- 
linji  for  liours, 
itcrest  brought 
•e  was  tea  witii 
ork  again  until 

)ut  Mr.  Benton 

room  to  enjoy 

freshim::  rest  of 

r.  Benton  held 

were  pleasant. 

for  others"  fecl- 

)  him  this  was 

ly  subjects  not 

the  enjoyment 

utin<j  his  lariii' 

down  from  the 

c  was  so  niiicli 

ler  prided  him- 

-until  he  wa- 


'&£4^1AC  ^ ouyi ly^^Ai"^ 


'A 


n 


S I 


'If  f 


H  'i- 


MR.  BENTON'S  MIND  PREOCCUPIED. 


•m: 


roused  by  the  general  laugh  and  "  Father,  that's  the  elaret  cork  you  arc 
trvin"'  to  eat."  He  laughed  at  himself  but  sent  away  the  dish  saying, 
••I'hikl,  don't  ask   me  to  carve  anything  until  this  Ashburton  treaty  is 

settled." 

Tlic  completed  Report  of  the  journey  was  given  in  on  March  ist,  and 
10  000  extra  copies  of  the  First  and  Second  Report  ordered  by  Congress. 

An  important  event  consequent  upon  the  publication  of  these  Reports 
was  the  settlement  by  the  Mormons  of  the  valley  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake. 

In  this  connection  I  give  here  the  following  letter  from  me  published  in 
New  York  in  1S77: 

GENEKAI.    FREMONT    AND    THE    GREAT    SALT    LAKE. 

To  the  pAlitor  of  the  Niii'  York  Times : 

Vour  paper  of  this  morning  contains  a  letter  from  Eli  Perkins,  giving  an  account  of  ,in 
interview  between  Governor  Brigham  Young  and  himself,  in  which  there  are  several  errors 
t:;;it  I  Hoiikl  like  to  correct. 

llovernor  Young  says  that  I  made  "a  mistake."  That  I  described  the  Great  Salt  Lake 
.15  (inL-  part  salt  and  the  other  fresh,  and  that  I  had  described  the  surrounding  country  as 
iVrtilu,  when  he  found  the  Salt  Lake  plain  a  desert.  The  passages  I  refer  to  in  the  letter  are 
;is  follows : 

"  lliiw  came  you  to  think  of  Utah  ?"    I  asked. 

'W'tll,  we  had  read  an  account  of  General  Frfemont's  travels — how  he  found  a  large  salt  lake  in  the 
in'.criiir  nf  our  continent,  in  the  middle  of  a  great  fertile  plain.  We  read  the  account  of  his  rowing  loan 
W.inil  in  the  middle  of  the  lake  in  an  India-rubber  boat,  and  how  the  south  end  of  the  lake  was  fresh  and 
ihc  Tiurth  salt." 

"  Hut  tlif  south  end  of  Salt  Lake  is  not  fresh,  is  it?"   I  asked. 

"  Sii;  Frimcnt  made  a  mistake.  In  going  to  the  south  of  Salt  Lake  he  struck  Utah  Lake — another  lake 
—and  thought  it  was  a  continuation  of  the  same  lake.  Well,  from  FrCmont's  reports,  we  determined  to  get 
(lur  wagons  together,  form  a  grand  caravan  and  travel  through  the  country  to  the  Salt  Lake,  looo  miles  from 
any  civilized  settlement.  We  started  out  with  147  people  and  73  wagons.  This  was  in  1847.  .  .  .  On 
tk-  24ih  of  July,  1847,  we  defiled  down  the  Wasatch  Mountains,  and  saw  the  plain  of  our  New  Jerusalem 
Uliirf  us.  .  .  .  Salt  Lake  plain  is  a  natural  desert.  When  we  struck  this  plain  there  was  nothing  on 
it  but  sagt-bushes." 

Governor  Young  was  himself  in  error  here.  The  report  to  which  he  refers  contains  no 
such  stateinent,  and  I  give  the  following  extracts,  which  speak  to  the  character  of  the  lake  and 
lilt  iniiiitry  surrounding  it.  These,  at  this  distance  of  time.  Governor  Young  would  only 
liiiiitlv  remember: 


Si;iTEMiiKR  8,  1843. — The  river  here  divided  into  several  branches,  filled  with  fiuvials,  and  so  very 
shallow  that  it  was  with  difficulty  we  could  get  the  boat  along,  being  obliged  to  get  out  and  wade.  We 
iniampcil  on  a  low  point  among  rushes  and  young  willows,  where  there  was  a  quantity  of  drift-wood,  which 
served  for  our  fires.  .  .  .  Geese  and  ducks  enough  had  been  killed  for  an  abundant  supper  at  night  and 
i<'r  breakfast  the  next  morning. 

StiTKMiiKR  ij. — .  .  .  The  channel  in  a  short  distance  tjecame  so  shallow  that  our  navigation  was 
ai  an  end,  being  merely  a  sheet  of  soft  mud,  with  a  few  inches  of  water,  and  sometimes  none  at  all,  forming 
the  low-water  shore  of  the  lake.  All  this  place  was  absolutely  covered  with  flocks  of  screaming  plover.  We 
toiik  off  uur  clothes,  and,  getting  overboard,  commenced  dragging  the  boat,  making  by  this  operation  a  very 
curious  trail  and  a  very  disagreeable  smell  in  stirring  up  the  mud,  as  we  sank  above  the  knee  at  every  step. 
The  water  here  was  still  fresh,  with  only  an  insipid  and  disagreeable  taste,  probably  derived  from  the  fetid 
I'uJ.    After  proceeding  in  this  way  about  a  mile  we  came  to  a  small,  black  ridge  on  the  bottom,  beyond 


u 


416 


J//;j/(VA'.V  ('/■  .l/r  Lll-E—JOUX  Clf.lRLI'.S  I'Kk.MOXT. 


which  thi-  w  itiT  liciumc  siulilfnly  s,ilt.  U'^iiiiiiiiK  Krii'lu-iHy  l"  ilci'pcn,  ami  ihi'  tiniidiii  was  siiulv  and  firm 
It  was  a  riniarkalili.'  ilivisicni  si-iMralinj;  the  Irish  wali-rs  of  thf  rivers  (kuii  the  hriny  water  of  the  lake,  which 
was  entirely  s.iturateil  with  idiiimnn  salt.  I'usninj;  >iur  little  vessel  aeri'ss  the  narrow  houiul.nv  we  spranir 
on  board,  aiul  at  length  were  alloat  on  the  waters  o(  the  unknown  sea. 

Sf.1'1  KMIiKR  14. —  I'akiiiK  le.ue  .it  this  pt>i!it  of  the  waters  of  Hear  River,  and  of  the  K^i'Kraiiliiial  lasin 
which  incloses  the  system  of  rivers  ami  creeks  which  lielong  to  the  (ireat  Salt  Liike,  and  wliiih  so  richly 
deserves  a  future  detailed  and  ampl'.-  exploration.  1  can  s.iy  ol  it,  in  general  terms,  that  the  Imihoids  ii(  this 
river  (Hear),  and  of  some  of  the  creeks  which  I  s.iw,  form  a  natural  resting  and  recruilin^;  staiimi  fur 
travellers  now  and  all  time  to  come.  The  hottcins  are  extensive,  water  excellent,  timber  sullicient.  the  sni| 
gooil  and  well  ad.ipteil  to  the  grains  and  grasses  suited  to  such  an  elevated  region.  A  niilii.ii  v  -osl  aivl  ,1 
civili/.ed  seltlcnient  wouKI  be  of  gre.it  value  here;  and  cattle  and  horses  would  ilo  well  wher,'  i;t,iss  aiiil  sill 
so  much  abound.  The  Like  will  furnish  exhaustless  supplies  of  silt.  All  the  n)ountain-siiles  here  arc 
covered  with  a  v.iliiable  nutritious  gr.iss  called  buiuh-gr.iss,  from  the  form  in  which  it  grows,  which  has  a 
second  growth  in  the  fall.  The  IxMsts  of  Indians  were  fat  upon  it;  our  own  found  it  a  good  subsislenti.' 
and  its  ()u.inlity  will  siist.iiii  any  amount  of  cattle,  and  make  this  truly  a  bucolic  region. 

Tlu'  (.ha ratter  of  fertility  here  ;ittrilnited  to  the  e;isterii  shores  of  the  lake  ami  v.illcvs  uf 
the  tril)\it.iry  streams,  wiiieh  I  visitetl  at  tiiis  time,  winilil  he  abiuulaiitly  i>uriie  out  by  a  visit 
there  to-tlay.  'I'lie  desert  pl;iiii  of  the  C"ire;it  Salt  Lake,  whieh  I  iliil  tiot  tiieii  visit,  lies  west  of 
it,  and  was  not  referred  to  iti  the  report  whieh  yiiitletl  the  Mormon  emijjratioii. 

'I'he  work  was  iloiie  as  taithfiilly  as  was  possible  to  tis  under  restrictions  of  S(;inty  nieaii? 
and  time,  hut  it  has  been  a  c'(inst;int  s;itisf:t(iion  to  me  to  have  had  the  a|iproval  which  suii- 
setpient  travellers  ;ind  emi:.,;r:ints.  .and  otiier  authorities,  h;ive  ^iven  to  the  corrctiiess  of  the 
ni;ips  :uul  reports  iielono;ini;  to  tiiese  surveys. 

In  the  rei'Mit  ;idiiistment  of  our  Northwestern  bi^'nidary  with  I'.iiyland  (the  San  Juan 
case),  I  was  informed  by  I'ommissioner  Campbell  that  the  determin;ition  of  ;ui  inii>ort,iin 
part  of  the  line  011  tiie  l';icihc  coast  turned  iiiion  tin;  majis  of  these  surveys,  and  it  w;is  tlnallv 
settleil  i)V  my  letter  to  him  in  expl.mation  of  it. 

For  the  re;isons  ;ibove  unen  I  n;iturally  ilesire  to  correct  where  it  is  susceptible  of  cor- 
rection ;iny  accident, il  misst.itement  teniling  to  lend  character  of  looseness  antl  iii;iccur;icy  tn 
the  work. 

J.  C.  FRl' MONT. 

Nkw  York,  SArikDAV,  Jink  2.   1S77. 

This  letter  shows  two  thinjis  :  it  establishes  the  fact  that  it  was  upon  nn 
repoft  of  it  that  the  Mormon  eoninninity  chose  the  Great  Salt  Lake  for 
their  place  of  scttlenient  ;  it  also  shows  the  ease  with  whicl,  i-ecordcil  tacts 
can  be  overlaid  by  loose  or  unfriendly  statement. 

In  contrast  to  the  facts  set  out  by  these  Reports  and  to  the  rapid  occupii- 
tion  by  immigrants  of  the  country  examined,  I  insert  the  followinsj  cxtr;ict 
from  a  book  published  in  1844  in  LondtMi  by  an  employti  of  the  Ihidson  liny 
Company,  styled  "History  of  the  Ore<;on  Territory  and  British  North 
American  Fur  Trade  ;  by  John  Dunn."  This  goes  to  show  the  curious 
ignorance  in  regard  to  Oregon  and  the  Rocky  Mountain  country  which  .it 
this  late  date  could  find  its  wav  into  print  in  England. 

"  Though  se\  eral  parties  have  penetrated  into  the  Oregon  territory  from 
the  United  States  through  the  gorges  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  yet  it  may  bo 
safely  asserted,  from  the  concurrent  testimony  of  traders,  trappers,  and  set- 
tlers, w  ho  have  themseU  c-;  passed  these  natural  barriers,  that  the  difficulties 


I  . 


'1 


I'Rl-MONT. 


//■//)■  nil:  MOKMOXS  CIlOSl.  SALT  LA KK. 


417 


jirc  so  luinicrous  ;iiul  fonniilahlc,  aiul  tlu'  tiiiK'  iice-fssary  for  tlic  passayv  so 
limir.  tlwt  tliciv  is  no  secure,  cxiicilitiims,  or  L-omiiioilioiis  track  wliicli  can  Ik* 
imt  used  as  a  highway,  so  as  to  afforil  facilities  for  an  iiitlux  of  ciniLTi-ants 
,i\iii:iiul.  Several  routes  have  neen  tried  of  late  ;  aiul  each  diffi'rs  onls  ti'oni 
the  (itlicr  in  the  privations  which  the  passen,i,a'rs  untlerL,^o.  None  hut  the 
wild  and  fearless  free  trappers  can  claniher  over  these  precipices,  and  tread 
these  deserts  with  security  ;  and  e\en  these  are  cjuittinij  thcni  as  haunts, 
ami  iiDW  usini,'  them  only  as  unavoidable  tracks.  It  is  true,  there  have  bci'ii 
publi^lied  more  favorable  accounts  within  the  \,\>X  year  or  two  by  parties  who 
have  iiKule  the  journey  safely,  and  who  encoiu-;  i^e  i>thers  to  make  a  similar 
experiment.  But  these  aeeoimts  are  in  such  a.  .pirit  of  bravado,  and  accom- 
panied wiiii  expressions  of  thankfidness  by  the  parties  for  their  own  success, 
th:il  tliey  arc  indirect  proofs  of  tiie  ditlicidty  and  danjj^cr  of  the  unilertakiiii;, 
,i;ul  ol  llie  utter  hopelessness  of  such  a  route  for  ifcneral  piu'poses.  l'"or 
huiulreds  of  miles  the  several  tracks  present  nothin<jj  but  frij^htful  barrenness 
unclertiMii.  and  overhead  scorchini;  heat,  or  piercinj;  cold.  The  cour.  \', 
c\en  west  oi  the  Rocky  Moimtains,  is  broken  with  towerinu^  cliffs,  deep 
ravines,  and  sunken  streams,  fn  r,  •,  aich  the  traveller  cannot  ilraw  a  drop  to 
all.iv  his  hurninji;  thirst  ;  and  the  soil  is  cither  sandy,  in  which  he  sinks  at 
cveiv  r<tep,  or  of  a  black  1  ii>jfji[ed  stone  wiilch  tears  his  feet.  'I  lie  travellers 
h;i\e  been  obliijed  to  feed  on  the  lean  carcasses  of  tiieir  animals,  which 
liavedied  from  hunger,  thirst,  or  fati<j:ue.  Farnham  says  that  his  party  were 
at  last  ohliired  to  kill  their  universal  favorite  and  pet — their  doLj — and  econ- 
omize his  tlesh.  I  le  further  says  that  durini^  ei^ht  days'  journey —and  he 
had  proeeeded  with  the  expedition  of  one  travellii\ijc  for  life — he  had  not  met 
with  ,1  single  acre  of  land  capable  of  produeinjj^  j^rain  or  vet^etables.'" 

Another  American  traveller — Townsend — says  :  "  Our  only  food  was 
dried,  erumbliiiiL;  meat,  which  we  carried  and  chewed  like  biscuits  as  we 
travelled.  There  are  two  reasons  by  which  the  extreme  thirst  which  the 
wayfarer  suffers  in  these  reufions  may  be  accounted  for  ;  first,  the  intense 
'.eat  of  the  sun  upon  the  open  and  exposed  plains  ;  and  secondly,  the  de>ic- 
cation  to  which  everything  here  is  sidiject.  The  air  feels  like  the  breath  of 
a  siroeeo  ;  the  tongue  becomes  parched  and  horny,  and  the  eyes,  mou'.h.  and 
nusc  are  incessantly  assailed  by  the  tine  pidverized  lava,  which  rises  from 
the  s:n)iind  with  the  least  breath  of  air.  Bullets,  pebbles  of  chalcedony,  ,ind 
pieees  of  smooth  obsidian  were  in  jj^reat  requisition  ;  almost  every  man  was 
mumblinjj  some  of  these  substances  in  an  endeavor  to  assuage  his  bin-nin<^ 
thirst.  The  lead  bullets  and  the  other  substances  which  they  chewed  were 
for  the  purpose  of  producin<j  spittle,  which  they  would  swallo\.  to  prevent 
mrtanimation  and  death.  There  are,  however,  certain  declinations  called 
.^I'/fA' throuffh  which  (thou<j;h  with  great  labor)  a  tedious  and  dreary  pas- 
sage can  be  effected.     The  most  frequented  of  these  is  the  most  northern» 


Vhi 


iia 


-1         1           ;■  1 

■  i' 

1 1 


!      '        i 


I  if 


!■! 


11 '^^ 


Ui; 


4IS 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FR&MONT. 


between  Mounts  Brown  and  Hooker,  through  \v  r.ieh  the  eompany's  servants 
pass  in  their  journey  from  Cohuiibia  to  Hudson's  Bay.  This  is,  compara- 
tively, an  easy  passage.  There  is  anotlier  between  the  head-waters  of 
the  Fhitiiead  and  Marias  Rivers;  another  between  Lewis  and  Clarke's 
River,  in  the  Oregon,  and  the  sourees  of  the  Missouri;  and  another,  which 
is  \ery  important,  lies  between  Long's  Mountains  and  the  Wind  River 
eluster." 

At  the  instance  of  General  Scott  I  was  given  the  double  brevet  of 
first  lieutenant  and  captain.  He  made  my  services  the  subject  of  a  special 
report,  which  consisted  of  two  parts:  the  first,  an  argument  that  a  double 
brevet,  under  existing  law,  might  be  granted;  the  second,  that  in  considera- 
tion of  ser\ices  rendered  \)y  me  it  ought  to  be  granted.  The  fact  that  Gen- 
eral Scott  was  known  to  be  tenacious  of  military  observances  increased  the 
value  of  his  recommendation.  Accordingly,  I  was  appointed  by  President 
Tyler  captain  by  brevet,  "to  rank  as  such  from  the  31st  da}'  of  Julv,  1844  : 
for  gallant  and  highly  meritorious  ser\-ices  in  two  expeditions  ctjmmanded  bv 
himself;  the  first  to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  which  terminated  October  ly, 
1842;  and  the  second  beyond  those  mountains,  which  terminated  July  y, 

This  brevet  has  the  greater  value  for  me  because  it  is  the  onlv  reeojjni- 
tion  for  "  services  rendered  "  that  I  have  received  from  my  own  Government, 

After  the  change  of  administration  in  March  I  accompanied  Mr.  Benton 
to  visit  the  President,  Mr.  Polk.  In  speaking  to  him  of  the  interesting  facts 
in  the  geography  of  the  West  I  mentioned  that  I  had  shortly  before,  at  the 
Library  of  Congress,  drawn  out  from  the  map-stand  one  giving  the  United 
States  and  Territories,  and  found  on  it  the  Great  Salt  Lake  represented  as 
connected  with  the  Pacific  Ocean  by  three  great  rivers:  one  discharging  inio 
the  Columbia  River  from  the  northwestern  end;  another  from  the  south- 
western end  into  the  head  of  the  Gulf  of  California;  the  third  from  the  middle 
of  the  western  side  of  the  lake  running  westward,  breaking  throuirh  the 
Sierra  Nevada  and  discharging  into  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco.  Beanni;  in 
mind  the  account  gi\en  me  at  Vancouver  of  the  Buenaventura  Ri\er,  the 
known  fact  of  the  Great  Colorado,  and  the  existence  of  large  streams  flow- 
ing into  the  lake,  it  is  easy  to  see  how  the  reports  of  trappers  scattered  over 
that  region,  who  had  seen  it  only  in  widely  separated  parts,  might  be  con- 
nected together  in  the  compilation  of  maps  so  as  to  give  the  lake  these 
outlets. 

The  President  seemed  for  the  moment  sceptical  about  the  exactness  of 
my  information  and  disposed  to  be  conservative.  He  evidently  "respected 
that  ancient  chaos  "  of  the  western  geography  as  it  existed  on  the  old  maps. 
Like   the    Secretary,  he    found    mc    "young,"    and  said  something  of  the 


FREMONT. 


THE  rRESIDENT,  MR.  POLK,  SCEPTICAL. 


419 


ic  company  s  servants 
y.  This  is,  compara- 
the  hcad-walcrs  of 
Lewis  and  Clarice's 
;  and  anotlicr,  which 
and  the  Wind  River 


the  double  brevet  of 
le  subject  of  a  special 
■gument  that  a  double 
ond,  that  in  considera- 
1.  The  fact  that  Gen- 
3rvances  increased  the 
ppointed  b}-  President 
1st  da}-  of  July,  1844  : 
ditions  commanded  bv 
rminated  October  ly, 
:h   terminated  July  31, 

it  is  the  only  recogni- 
I  my  own  Government. 
:ompanied  Mr.  Benton 
of  the  interesting  facts 
shortly  before,  at  the 
one  "ivin"  the  United 
Lake  represented  as 
one  discharging  iniu 
Dther  from  the  south- 
third  from  the  middle 
jrcaking  through  the 
rancisco.     Bearmg  in 
cnaventura  River,  the 
of  large  streams  How- 
rappers  scattered  over 
parts,  might  be  eoii- 


irive  the  lake  these 


ibout  the  exactness  of 

evidently  "  respected 

isted  on  the  old  maps. 

;aid  something  of  the 


"impulsiveness  of  young  men,"  and  was  not  at  all  satisfied  in  his  own  mind 
that  those  three  rivers  were  not  running  there  as  laid  down. 

It  may  be  remembered  that  Alexis  Ayot  was  severely  wounded  at 
•ho  frontier,  just  when  reaching  the  end  of  the  journey.  As  an  evidence  of 
'ho  interest  felt  in  the  expeditions,  I  anticipate  here  to  say  in  what  way  he 
was  not  lost  sight  of.  He  was  a  French  Canadian,  young,  and  with  simple 
fiiith  in  "government."  lie  believed,  that,  as  he  had  been  crippled  in  its 
^crvice,  he  only  needed  to  show  himself  in  Washington  to  be  provided  for. 
To  his  surprise  and  distress  he  was  told  that  as  he  was  not  an  enlisted  soldier 
•jic  pension  laws  could  not  apply  to  him.  "  Je  vais  inoiirir  de  faiiii,"  he  said 
til  >bs.  Fremont;  "y'g  ne  suis  pas  clen\je  iCavais  que  vies  jaiiibcsy  That 
cvenin"'  Mrs.  Fremont  was  telling  of  this  disappointment  to  herself  as  well 
a>  to  the  poor  voyageur  to  Mrs.  Dix,  a  charming,  s}'mpathetic  woman  with 
whom  as  with  her  husband  the  family  intimacy  was  great.  A  large,  rather 
bashful  gentleman  waiting  to  see  Mr.  Dix  sat  apart  taking  no  share  in  the 
tiilk  of  the  two  ladies;  but  after  he  had  made  his  visit  to  the  Senator,  Mr. 
Dix  came  in  from  his  library  to  say  that  this  was  the  chairman  of  the  Com- 
mittee on  Pensions;  that  he  had  been  so  interested  for  the  crippled  man  that 
he  had  asked  him  to  say  that  if  Mrs.  Fremont  would  write  out  brietiy — just 
;i>  she  told  it — the  man's  case,  he  thought  he  could  help  him.  This  was 
I'leston  King,  of  New  York, 

He  made  good  his  offer.  A  special  act  was  introduced  b}-  Mr.  King  for 
his  relief,  and  within  a  few  days  it  had  gone  through  both  houses,  received 
the  signature  of  President  Polk,  and  A}ot  found  himself  with  not  only  his 
pension,  but  back  pay  from  the  date  of  his  wound.  Swaying  on  his  crutches 
h.c  tried  to  tliank  Mrs.  Fremont,  and  with  tears  running  down  his  dark  face 
Slid,  "I  cannot  kneel  to  thank  you— y^;  ii\ii  plus  dc  jaiiibes — but  you  are 
my  Sain  to  Madoiuie  ct  je  voiis  fa  is  ma  pn'ire.^''  To  draw  his  pension  he 
had  to  become  an  American  resident.  lie  was  thorough;  becoming  also  a 
litizen  and  marrying  an  American  girl.  And  as  a  shoemaker  in  Montpelier, 
\  ermont,  I  learned  of  his  friendly  arguments,  and  his  voting  for  me  there, 
man\-  vears  after. 


I  had  returned  inspired  with 
iiMnmon  beauty  of  surface;  the 
irrand  commercial  position ;  took 
first  saw  it  settled  into  intention, 

With  all  these  advantages  it 
lands,  the  fish  that  crowded  its 
nierce  that  waited  for  it,  were 
country,  as  in  greater  p;irt  it  was. 


California.  Its  delightful  climate  and  un- 
great  strength  of  its  vegetation  and  its 
possession  of  m}-  mind.     My  wish  when  I 

and  I  determined  to  make  there  a  home. 

was  unused.     Its  great  forests  and  fertile 

waters,  the  noble  harbor  and  great  com- 
all  unused  ;  1}  ing  waste  like  an  Indian 
Its  fvrlile  sea-board  was  one  <rreat  stock- 


i;i  V 


::Hi 


:,  ;i 


■ti 


i.  r  ■ 


'■  r 


I      3 


:,ih 


ii« 


420 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FR^IMOXT. 


farm  and  its  whole  copulation  only  a  few  thousands  ;  so  far  distant  from  the 
Central  Government  that  it  was  ready  at  any  moment  to  break  off.  \\ 
had  now  come  to  share  the  <jreat  interest  which  the  men  in  control  of  affairs 
at  Washington  had  felt  for  the  more  northern  coast  of  the  Pacitic.  Mr 
Webster  invited  me  to  dine  with  him  "  to  .alk  about  California.'"  I  found 
that  his  mind  was  specially  tixed  upon  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco  and  the 
commanding  advantage  it  wou.ld  give  us  for  war  and  commerce.  lie  drew 
his  line,  however,  at  the  coast.  Coming  as  he  did  from  a  part  of  our  coun- 
try where  grass  contends  with  rocks  for  possession  of  the  tields,  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  make  him  realize  the  wt)nderful  fertilit}-  of  the  unobstructed  soil  uf 
California,  where  wild  oats  make  unbroken  fields  from  valley  to  mountain- 
top.  For  him  the  Rocky  Mountains  extended  the  influence  of  their  name  to 
the  sea-beaches  and  mingled  their  rocks  with  the  sands;  making  in  his  mind 
the  picture  which  he  afterward  gave  of  California:  "a  strip  of  sandy  land 
along  the  Pacific  Ocean  with  here  and  there  an  oasis  of  fertile  soil;  offering 
no  inducements  for  us  except  the  tine  harbors  indented  upon  its  coast."' 

What  Mr.  Webster  thought  of  these  harbors  he  says  in  a  letter  written 
to  his  son  March  11,  1H45,  quoted  by  Mr.  George  Ticknor  Curtis  in  his 
well-studied  and  admirable  life  of  Buchanan.  In  this  letter  Mr.  Webster  is 
speaking  of  the  im)')robabilit\'  that  England  would  go  to  war  with  us  to 
prevent  the  annexation  of  Texas.  "But,"  he  says,  "she  will  now  take  care 
that  Mexico  shall  not  cede  California,  or  any  part  thereof,  to  us.  You  know 
my  opinion  to  have  been,  and  now  is,  that  the  port  of  San  Francisco  would 
be  twenty  times  as  valuable  to  us  as  all  Texas." 

I  conimimicated  my  inspiration  to  others.  For  this  Mr.  Benton's  mind 
was  open.  Many  clients  from  among  old  Spanish  families  in  Florida  and  Lou- 
isiana ;  his  practice  in  defending  their  interests  ;  the  knowledge  acquired  of 
the  usage  as  well  as  the  laws  inider  which  their  old  land  grants  had  been 
held  ;  his  knowledge  of  the  language  which  led  to  friendships  with  his 
clients  ;  all  gave  him  unusual  interest  now  in  Mexico.  Out  of  this  had  come 
his  sympathy  for  them  as  a  people.  lie  had  always  held  that  toward  Mex- 
ico our  relation  should  be  that  of  the  Great  Republic  aiding  a  neighborini: 
state  in  its  early  struggles  ;  and  he  belonged  with  those  who  preferretl 
the  acquiring  of  Texas  by  treaty  and  purchase,  not  by  war.  This  he 
opposed  and  denounced.  He  came  now  to  hold  the  same  views  concerninir 
California. 

President  Polk  entered  on  his  office  with  a  fixed  determination  to  acquire 
California,  if  he  could  acquire  it  in  an  honorable  and  just  manner. 

The  President  and  Mr.  Bancroft  held  it  impossible  for  Mexico,  situated 
as  things  then  were,  to  retain  possession  of  California  ;  and  therefore  it  was 
right  to  negotiate  with  Mexico  for  the  acquisition  of  that  which  to  her  could 
be  of  no  use.     This  it  was  hoped  to  accomplish  by  peaceful  negotiation; 


THIRD  EXrEDITION.— BANCROFT  TO  BUCHANAN. 


421 


but  if  Mexico  in  resenting  our  acceptance  of  the  offer  of  Texas  to  join  us, 
should  begin  a  war  with  us,  then,  by  taking  possession  of  the  province. 

To  acquire  California  by  all  honorable  means  had  been  the  desire  of  Mr. 
Bancroft  much  before  this  time,  but  the  relations  with  Mexico  growing  out 
of  the  Tex'is  situation  soon  became  critical  and  threatened  war  ;  lea\'4ng  no 
room  for  further  negotiation. 

The  Secretary  of  State,  Mr.  Buchanan,  and  Senator  Dix,  of  New  York, 
came  frequently  to  confer  with  Senator  Benton.  As  chairman  of  the  Com- 
mittee on  Militar}-  Affairs  he  was  the  centre  of  information  and  conference. 
Mr.  Buchanan  had  disco\ered  a  leak  in  his  Department,  and  not  knowing 
thu  Spanish  language  himself  brought  his  confidential  letters  and  documents 
from  Mexico  to  be  read  to  him  b}-  Mr.  Dix  and  Mr.  Benton,  who  knew  the 
Liiii,niage  well.  Mr.  Dix  was  a  near  neighbor  for  the  whole  of  his  senatorial 
term,  a  member  of  the  Military  Committee  and  also  personally  intiuiate  with 
Mr.  Benton  from  similarity  of  tastes.  In  the  security  of  Mr.  Benton's 
library  these  despatches  were  read  Jind  discussed  and  many  translations 
made  for  Mr.  Buchanan's  use  by  Mrs.  Fremont  and  her  elder  sister.  Baron 
(icrolt.  the  Prussian  Minister,  who  had  been  for  twenty  years  Minister  to 
Mexico  and  who  had  now  his  continued  conridential  relations  with  chief  men 
111  that  country,  was  also  our  valued  friend  ;  with  a  friendship  uninterrupted 
while  he  li\cd.  From  his  outset  in  life  Humboldt  had  been  his  friend  and 
watched  oxer  his  career.  He  had  been  chosen  by  him  for  the  mission  to 
Mixico,  and  during  his  long  absence  abroad  their  friendly  correspondence 
had  been  maintained. 

The  following  letter  to  Mr.  Buchanan  from  Mr.  Bancroft  gives  the  state 
it  affairs  from  authentic  information  and  shows  the  friendly  interest  of 
haron  (icrolt: 


Washington,  August  7,  1845. 
Mv  DicAu  Mr.  Buchanan  : 

You  remember  what  I  told  you,  before  jou  left,  that  Baron  Gerolt  pre- 
dicted war  on  the  part  of  Mexico.  Ycsterda}-  morning,  at  the  President's 
laiuest,  I  went  to  see  him,  and  found  him  very  ready  to  communicate  all  his 
nitelliuence,  concealing  only  the  name  of  his  informant,  and  desiring  that  his 
own  name  ma}'  not  be  used. 

His  letters  came  by  way  of  Havana,  and  Charleston,  S.  C,  and  are  from 
Mexico  City,  of  the  date  of  June  28th.  He  vouches  for  the  entire  authen- 
!'city  and  good  opportunity  of  information  on  the  part  of  his  correspondent. 

General  Arista,  with  three  thousand  men,  chiefly  cavalry,  himself  the 
K'st  ca\alry  officer  in  Mexico,  had  been  directed  to  moAe  forward 
towards  the  Del  Norte  ;  but  whether  he  had  orders  to  cross  the  Del 
N'orte  was  not  said. 


I|       i: 


ii     I 


■I'i 


4J2 


MEMOIRS  OF  J/)'  LIFK—JOnX  CHARLES  FRilMOXT. 


At  San  Louis  Potosi,  General  Paredes,  the  eommander-in-chicf,  had  his 
general  quarters,  with  an  army  of  se\en  thousand  men.  These  al^o  w  ■■■ . 
direeted  to  move  forward,  in  small  divisions,  towards  the  Del  Norte. 

From  Me.vieo  Cit\',  Cieneral  Felisola,  the  old  wi)man  who  was  wjih 
Santa  .iVnna  in  Texas,  was  soon  to  leave  with  three  thousand  men  to  idin 
the  arm}-  of  Paredes. 

Thus  far  positive  information.  It  was  stated  by  the  Baron  as  his  ohinj.,, 
that  Mexieo  would  certainly  consider  the  armistice  with  Texas  broken  h\ 
the  action  of  the  Texas  convention  ;  that  she  would  sliun  battles  and  eanv 
on  an  anno3-ing  guerilla  warfare  ;  that  she  would  protract  the  war  into  a 
very  expensive  length  ;  that  she  would  agree  to  no  settlement  of  bounclarv 
with  us,  but  under  the  guarantee  of  European  powers. 

On  these  opinions  J  make  no  comment.  The  seemingly  authentic  nc\v< 
of  hostile  intentions  has  led  (jovernor  Marc}",  under  proper  sanctions,  to 
increase  his  little  army  in  Texas,  and  Mr.  Mason  has  written  all  the  nece>^  mv 
letters.  I  do  not  see  but  that  the  sun  rises  this  morning  much  as  usual. 
The  President,  too,  is  in  excellent  spirits,  and  will  grow  fat  in  your  absciiLC 
he  sleeps  so  well  no~i\  and  sees  nothing  before  him  but  the  plain,  thouiih 
steep  and  arduous  path  of  duty. 

So  wishing  you  well. 

Your  faithful  friend, 

GkoUGE    B.VXCROl'T, 

• 

Of  his  solicitude  for  my  personal  welfare  Baron  Gerolt  gave  a  niarkti! 
proof  during  my  absence  on  the  third  expedition,  by  coming  to  Mr.  Ikntnii 
to  warn  him  that  I  would  be  in  danger  from  an  unexpected  quarter  in  L'ali- 
fornia  ;  for  he  had  received  positive  information  from  the  City  of  Mexico 
that  orders  had  been  sent  by  the  Mexican  Go\  ernment  to  the  coniiiiandiiiL' 
general  of  that  Department  directing  him  to  drive  me  from  any  part  of  the 
territory  in  which  I  might  appear. 

Concurrently  with  the  Report  upon  the  second  expedition  the  plans  ami 
scope  of  a  third  one  had  been  matured.  It  was  decided  that  it  slmuld  Iv 
directed  to  that  section  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  which  gives  rise  to  tin.' 
Arkansas  River,  the  Rio  Cirande  del  Norte  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  tix 
Rio  Colorado  of  the  Gulf  of  California  ;  to  complete  the  examination  of  tlu 
Great  Salt  Lake  and  its  interesting  region  ;  and  to  extend  the  survey  we/. 
and  southwest  to  the  examination  of  the  great  ranges  of  the  Cascade  Moun- 
tains and  the  Sierra  Nevada,  so  as  to  ascertain  the  lines  of  conununieatinn 
through  the  mountains  to  the  ocean  in  that  latitude.  And  in  arranging  this 
expedition,  the  eventualities  of  war  were  taken  into  consideration. 

The  geographical  examinations  proposed  to  be  maile  were  in  greater 
part  in  Mexican  territory.     This  was  the  situation  :    Texas  was  gone  ami 


>■      9i«  'Ml 


^^\X 


OXT. 

iivchii^'t,  had  liis 
'hc^c  uIm)  Were 
;!  Norto. 
who  was  witli 
:ind  iiK'H  to  join 

)ii  as  his  iif)/i/i .;/ 
cxas  broken  h\ 
attics  and  (.-airv 
the  war  into  ;i 
.cnt  o{  boundarv 

:  autlicntic  nr\v< 
icr  sanctions,  to 
all  the  nccc.>s'rv 
f  much  as  usual. 
in  your  absence. 
ho  plain,  thiiuirli 


Bancroft. 

• 

t  ijavc  a  marked 
vr  to  Mr.  Benton 
quarter  in  Call- 
City  of  Mexico 
the  comniandini: 
n  any  part  of  the 


n 


)n  the  plans  and 

that  it  should  be 

rives  rise  to  tlu' 

Mexico,  and  tiu' 

amination  of  tlic 

the  survey  we.-: 

e  Cascade  Moun- 

f  conuiiuniciition 

in  urranginj:  thi> 

eration. 

were  in  i^Vi^M^- 

as  was  ,o-on^'  ii'"'*' 


fv#..' 


k^^'  11"  if 


iu-kfe; 


i\.-X[ 


mi 


^MIi 


ti'i'l 


m 


1 

-! 

i$' 

, 

1 

i 

■5 

1 

-       , 

ii 

ll 

{■   : 

THIRD  EXPEDITION.— BANCROFT' S  FORESIGHT  RE.  CAIIFORMA.  ^23 

California  was  breaking  off  by  reason  of  distance  ;  the  now  increasing 
\mciican  emigration  was  sure  to  seek  its  better  climate.  Oregon  was 
>till  in  dispute  ;  nothing  was  settled  except  the  fact  of  a  disputed  bound- 
;ir\  :  and  the  chance  of  a  rupture  with  Great  Britain  lent  also  its  contin- 
.'ciicics. 

Mexico,  at  war  with  the  United  States,  would  inevitably  favor  English 
protection  for  California.  Engli;  h  citizens  were  claiming  payment  for  loans 
ami  indemnity  for  losses.  Our  relations  with  England  were  already  clouded, 
and  in  the  event  of  war  with  Mexico,  if  not  anticipated  by  us,  an  English 
tlcet  would  certainly  take  possession  of  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco. 

For  use  in  such  a  contingency  the  only  available  force  was  our  squadron 
in  the  North  Pacific,  and  the  measures  for  carrying  out  the  design  of  th»* 


I'rcsident  fell  to  the  Navy  Department.  During  the  year  such  precaution- 
arv  measures  as  were  practicable  were  taken,  especially  by  the  vigilant 
Si'iietarv  of  the  Na\'y,  Mr.  Bancroft,  whose  orders  continuously  evince  com- 
prehending foresight  and  insistancc.  Imbued  with  the  philosophy  of  history, 
his  mind  was  alive  to  the  bearing  of  the  actual  conditions,  and  he  knew  how 
Mimetimcs  skill  and  sometimes  bold  action  determine  the  advantages  of  a 
nohtical  situation  ;  and  in  this  his  great  desire  was  to  secure  for  the  United 
States  the  important  one  that  hung  in  the  balance.  In  the  government  at 
Washington  he  was  the  active  principle,  having  the  activity  of  brain  and 
keen  perception  that  the  occasion  demanded.  With  him  Mr.  Benton  had 
iriciidly  personal  relations  of  long  standing. 

As  affairs  resolved  themselves,  California  stood  out  as  the  chief  subject 
in  the  impending  war  ;  and  with  Mr.  Benton  and  other  governing  men  at 
Washington  it  became  a  firm  resolve  to  hold  it  for  the  United  States.  To 
tlicm  it  seemed  reasonably  sure  that  California  would  eventuall}-  fall  to 
Enifhind  or  to  the  United  States  and  that  the  eventuality  was  near. 
This  was  talked  over  fully  during  the  time  of  preparation  for  the  third 
ixpedition,  and  the  contingencies  anticipated  and  weighed.  The  relations 
Ixtween  the  three  countries  made  a  chief  subject  of  interest  about  which  our 
thoiiirhts  settled  as  the  probability  of  war  grew  into  certainty.  For  me,  no 
i.li>tiiKt  course  or  definite  instruction  could  be  laid  down,  but  the  probabili- 
ties Were  made  known  to  me  as  well  as  what  to  do  when  tiiey  became 
faets.  The  distance  was  too  great  for  timely  communication ;  but  failing  this 
I  was  i,M\  en  discretion  to  act.  The  instructions  early  sent,  and  repeatedly 
agisted  upon,  to  the  otiicer  commanding  our  Pacific  squadron,  gave  specific 
:ders  to  be  strictly  followed  in  the  event  of  war.  But  these  frequent  dis- 
aissions  among  the  men  who  controlled  the  action  of  the  Government,  gave 
;<>  me  the  advantage  of  knowing  more  thoroughly  what  were  its  present 
\viAes,  and  its  intentions  in  the  event  of  war.  And  so  it  came  that  as  soon 
"^  war  was  sure  between  Mexico  and  ourselves,  Lieutenant  Gillespie  was 


424  MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


'A  \ 


i'!.'  ■■< 


y "  :^ 


. 'iK'i'Ji^' 


i  \%: 


despatched  with  instructions  ;  and  with  letters  which,  if  intercepted  when 
crossing'  Mexico,  would  ct)nvcv  no  nieaninjf  to  others  while  to  nic  thcv 
would  be  clear.  Plans  and  expressions  relating  to  the  future  home  in  Cali- 
fornia were  known  by  me  to  be  intended  as  relating  to  its  occupation  bv 
the  United  States. 

Mrs.  Frc'mont  was  to  have  accompanied  me  to  the  frontier,  but  the  dan- 
jj^erous  illness  of  Mrs.  Benton  kept  her  at  home.  I  went  off  with  only  jacdb 
and  Chinook,  who  had  been  recalled  from  Philadelphia,  and  was  "-lad'to  I'n 
back  to  his  people. 

The  Quaker  family  had  been  interested  in  him  and  careful  to  <rive  hini 
such  rudiments  of  practical  knowledge  as  he  might  be  able  to  put  to  \iwi\ 
use.  But  he  was  about  twenty  years  old  when  he  left  the  Columbia  with 
me;  intelligent,  with  set  character  formed  among  the  habits  of  hnlian  life, 
as  ineradicable  from  Indian  manhood  as  his  love  of  free  range  from  a  wild 
horse.  I  low  far  his  brief  education  was  lil'cly  to  inlluence  his  life  was 
made  strikingly  clear  to  us  when  on  the  evening  he  reached  Washiiv^toii 
he  exhibited  the  parting  gifts  which  he  had  received  from  his  friend>. 
Among  these  was  a  large  Bible  which  had  been  made  attractive  in  his  ew- 
by  its  ornamentation.  "Chinook  been  a  Quaker  all  winter,"  he  said;  and 
opening  this  at  the  blank  lca\es  for  "Family  Record  " — "  Here,"  he  added. 
with  the  short  Indian  laugh  of  pleasure,  "  Chinook  put  here  name  all  wife. 
and  all  horse." 

The  knowledge  which  his  eyes  had  taken  in  would  be  useful  amorifr  hi> 
people.  He  was  the  son  of  a  chief,  and  the  stories  he  could  tell  of  his  lik' 
among  the  whites  would  add  to  his  importance;  and  the  kind  treatment  he 
had  received  would  dispose  himself  and  them  to  be  friendly  to  the  Anierieaib. 

The  Indian  bo\-s  who  had  spent  a  happy  winter  in  Kentuck\-  met  nie  at 
Saint  Louis,  bringing  with  them  Sacramento,  aggressively  well. 

On  the  frontier  I  formed  a  camp  where  my  party  was  quickl\-  organized. 
For  this  expedition  ampler  means  had  been  pro\ided,  and  in  A'iew  of  iineer- 
tain  conditions  the  force  suitably  increased.  In  addition  to  the  usual  oiittit  cit 
arms  I  had  procured  about  a  dozen  rifles,  the  best  that  could  be  found;  with 
the  object  of  setting  them  up  as  prizes  for  the  best  marksmen,  to  he  shot  fur 
during  the  journe}-.  Many  of  my  old  men  joined  me.  And  I  had  again 
Godey. 

The  animals  I  had  left  on  pasture  were  in  tine  condition;  hardened  In 
the  previous  journe}-  and  thoroughly  rested  they  were  well  fitted  to  endure  a 
campaign.  From  the  Delaware  nation  twelve  men  had  been  chosen  to  go 
with  me.  These  were  known  to  be  good  hunters  and  braxe  men  and  tw.' 
of  them  were  chiefs,  Swanok  and  Sagundai.  Mr.  Preuss  was  not  with  me 
this  time;  but  was  now  in  assured  employment  and  preferred  in  liis  comfort- 


ALL  READY  FOR  MY  THIRD  EXPEDITION. 


4^5 


.iblc  home  to  rest  from  the  hardships  of  the  last  journey.  In  his  place  Mr. 
Eclwaiil  M.  Kern,  of  Philadelphia,  went  with  me  as  topographer.  lie  was 
iKsiclos  an  accomplished  artist;  his  skill  in  sketching  from  nature  and  in 
aciunitclv  drawing  and  coloring  birds  and  plants  made  him  a  valuable 
iicccssion  to  the  expedition.  Lieutenants  Abert  and  Peck  had  been  attached 
to  inv  command,  and  also  with  me  were  Mr.  James  McDowell,  a  nephew 
(if  Mrs.  Benton,  and  Mr.  Theodore  Talbot,  whose  health  had  been  restored 
bv  the  previous  journey. 

It  was  getting  late  in  the  year.  The  principal  objects  of  the  expedition 
l.iv  in  and  beyond  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  for  these  reasons  no  time 
.ould  be  giNcn  to  examinations  of  the  prairie  region.  The  line  of  tra\el 
■vas  directed  chiefly  to  pass  over  such  country  as  would  afford  good  camp- 
:ni;-<jrounds ;  where  water  and  grass,  and  wood  and  abundant  game  would 
xst  contribute  to  maintain  the  health  of  the  men  ;md  tiie  strength  of  the 
animals.  Along  the  route  we  met  the  usual  prairie  incidents  of  Indians 
;;nd  large  game,  which  furnished  always  wholesome  excitement.  In  those 
ilavs  these  broke  pleasantl}'  in  upon  the  silence  and  uniformity  of  the  prairie 
and  made  a  good  school  for  the  men.  On  the  high  plains  we  encountered 
a  Cheyenne  village  which  was  out  on  a  hunt.  The  men  came  to  meet  us 
on  the  plain,  riding  abreast  and  their  drums  sounding.  They  were  in  all 
their  bravery,  and  the  formidable  line  was  imposing,  and  looked  threaten- 
ini:  to  those  of  our  people  who  were  without  experience  in  an  Indian  coun- 
try. Men,  tried  and  fearless  in  accustomed  dangers,  are  often  at  the  first 
encounter  nervous  in  those  that  are  unfamiliar.  But  the  Che^ennes  were 
friend!} ,  and  we  on  our  side  were  too  strong  for  an}-  exhibition  of  hostility 
or  rudeness ;  and  so  we  gave  the  usual  present  in  exchange  for  friendly  con- 
duct and  good  wishes. 

We  had  lost  an  animal  which  in  the  night  had  strayed  off  from  the  band, 
and  early  on  the  march  next  morning  Basil,  with  a  companion,  had  been 
sent  out  to  look  for  it.  lie  did  not  get  in  at  night  nor  in  the  morning.  I 
therefore  remained  encamped  and  with  a  small  party  went  in  turn  to  look 
tor  him.  After  a  search  of  an  hour  or  two  we  discovered  them  halted,  and 
apparently  scanning  the  horizon  around,  in  some  uncertainty  where  to  look 
for  us.  We  were  down  in  a  swale  in  the  ground  about  three  hundred  yards 
:uva\ ,  and  so  out  of  sight  that  we  had  not  been  seen.  We  thought  to  try 
them,  and  quickly  throwing  off  the  greater  part  of  our  clothes  we  raised  an 
Indian  yell  and  charged.  But  there  was  no  hesitation  with  them.  They 
\vere  off  tiieir  horses  in  an  instant  and  their  levelled  pieces  brought  us  to  an 
•ibrupt  halt  and  a  hearty  laugh  which  we  all  enjoyed  in  having  found  them 
safe  and  well. 

Returning  to  camp  our  first  experiment  suggested  another.  The  camp 
lay  in  a  sort  of  broad  gully  beiow  the  level  of  the  prairie.     It  was  midday 


?  ( 


1      1 


1 1' 

'l  I      ' 

'    1  1^ 


I     ^1 


426 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIl-K—JOHN  CHARLES  l-RliMOXT. 


and  the  people  were  eareless  and  more  oceupied  by  *!:ettin<r  the  dinner 
than  with  Indians.  Ridinj,'  quietly  down  to  the  hollow  whieh  <,mvc  an  cusv 
approaeh  we  ehar<;ed  them  with  the  usual  yell.  Our  eharj^e  i,'a\e  them  ;i 
good  lesson,  thouj^h  it  lasted  but  a  moment.  It  was  like  eharj^iivr  Jnt,,  ,, 
beehive;  there  were  so  many  men  in  the  camp  read}-  with  their  ritles  that 
it  was  very  unsafe  to  keep  up  our  Indian  eharacter  be}ond  the  moment  nf 
the  charge.  Still,  like  all  exeitemenls,  it  stined  the  blood  pleasantlv  for 
the  moment. 

On  the  second  of  August  we  reached  Bent's  l^)rt,  on  the  Arkansas  Ri\ci . 
This  was  our  real  point  of  departure.  It  was  desirable  to  make  a  survey  nf 
the  prairie  region  to  the  southward,  embracing  the  Canadian  anil  otlier  rivers, 
I  accordingly  formed  a  detached  party,  in  charge  of  wliicii  I  ]ilaced  Lieuten- 
ants Abert  and  IVck,  Lieutenant  Abert  being  in  chief  conmiand.  IneludinL;- 
these  officers,  the  command  consisted  of  thirty ■'■hree  men,  and  1  had  tlu' 
good  fortune  to  secure  my  friend  Mr.  Fit/.patrick  for  their  guide.  I  had 
endeavored  to  obtain  the  services  of  an  Indian  who  knew  well  tlie  e(mntr\, 
and  was  a  man  of  great  influence,  especiall}'  among  tlu  L'amanches,  but  no 
offer  that  I  could  make  him  would  induce  him  to  go.  It  happened  that  the 
P^ort  was  well  pro\isioned,  and  from  its  supplies  we  were  able  to  furnish  the 
party  with  a  good  outfit.  This  consisted  principally  of  coffee  and  sugar  fur 
two  months,  several  boxes  of  macaroni,  and  a  quantity  of  rice,  together  with 
four  fanegas  of  Mexican  flour.  In  addition  the}'  took  with  them  eight  steers 
brought  up  on  the  prairie  and  therefore  easy  to  drive.  They  were  furnished 
with  four  large  circular  tents,  and  as  the  face  of  the  eountr}- whieh  was  eov- 
ered  by  the  projected  survey  was  not  mucli  broken,  four  wagons  were  added 
for  their  outfit  and  camp  equipage.  This  outfit  ma}'  appear  luxurious  to; 
the  prairie,  but  proxisions  go  fast  where  thirty  healthy  men  taking  just  the 
right  quantit}'  of  exercise  are  to  be  fed  three  times  a  day. 

Mr.  Hatcher,  who  was  a  good  hunter,  was  to  accompany  them  as  far  as 
Bent's  Post  on  the  Canadi;m. 

On  the  1 2th  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  took  leave  of  me  and  joined  the  party.  On 
the  same  day  Lieutenant  Abert  changed  his  encampment  preparatory  to 
making  his  start,  and  on  the  14th  the  two  ofbccrs  came  to  take  leave  of  mo. 

It  is  well  to  say  here  that  on  the  journe}'  to  l>ent"s  Fort  I  had  been  much 
prepossessed  in  their  fa\-or.  Thc\'  had  shown  themselves  well  qualitied  for 
such  an  expedition  which  as  of  course  was  entirely  new  to  them.  In  this  jour- 
ney they  had  given  e\idcnce  of  the  prudence  and  good  judgment  whicli  enabled 
them  to  carry  through  successfully  the  expedition  entrusted  to  their  care. 

The  next  day  I  sent  Lieutenant  Abert  his  instructions,  which  were  to 
survey  the  Canadian  from  its  source  to  its  junction  with  the  Arkansas,  takiiiL' 
in  his  way  the  Purgatory  River,  and  the  heads  of  the  Washita;  and  on  the 
1 6th  he  commenced  his  journe}'  down  the  Arkansas. 


THIRD  EXPRDITIOX—  THREE  KINGL  Y  MEX. 


427 


1";  the  dinner 


With  Lieutenant  Abert  also  went  Mr.  James  McUowell,  who  decided 
to  a\ail  iiimself  of  this  survey  to  return  for  tlie  reason  that  his  work  would 
nut  be  carried  into  the  winter,  while  my  journey  ti)  the  I'acitic  wa;.  expected 
to  be  iif  lonj^  duration. 

From  the  Fort  1  sent  an  express  to  L'arsi)n  at  a  rancho,  or  stock  farm, 
whii-li  witii  his  friend  Richard  Owens  he  iiad  established  on  the  L'imarron,  a 
tiibutiuv  to  the  Arkansas  River.  But  he  had  promised  that  in  the  event  1 
^il(lulcl  need  him,  he  would  join  me.  And  1  knew  that  he  would  not  fail  to 
iinie.  My  messenger  found  him  busy  starting  the  con«;eiiial  work  of  mak- 
in;,'  up  a  stock  ranch.  There  was  no  time  to  be  lost,  and  he  did  not  hesitate, 
lie  sold  ever\thing  at  a  sacrirtce,  farm  and  cattle  ;  and  not  only  came  him- 
>clf  but  brought  his  friend  Owens  to  join  the  party.  This  was  like  Carson, 
prompt,  self-sacriticing,  and  true.  I  received  them  both  with  great  satisfac- 
tion. 

That  Owens  was  a  good  man  it  is  enough  to  say  that  he  and  Carson 
were  friends.  Cool,  brave,  and  of  good  judgment  ;  a  good  hunter  and  good 
shot  ;  experienced  in  mountain  life  ;  he  was  an  acquisition,  and  proved  val- 
uable throughout  the  campaign. 

Godey  had  proxed  himself  during  the  preceding  journey,  which  had 
brought  out  his  distinguishing  qualities  of  resolute  and  aggressive  courage. 
Quick  in  deciding  and  prompt  in  acting  he  had  also  the  French  elan  and 
their  gayety  of  courage. 

'' Gai,  g>ii,  avatnoHS  nousy 


\-  them  as  far  as 


I  mention  him  here  because  tiie  three  men  come  fitly  together,  and  be- 
cause of  the  peculiar  qualities  which  gave  them  in  the  highest  de'gree  effi- 
ciency for  the  service  in  which  they  were  engaged. 

The  three,  under  Napoleon,  might  have  become  Marshals,  chosen  as  he 
chose  men.  Carson,  of  great  courage;  quick  and  complete  perception, 
taking  in  at  a  glance  the  advantages  as  well  as  the  chances  for  defeat; 
(iodey,  insensible  to  danger,  of  perfect  coolness  and  stubborn  resolution; 
Owens,  equal  in  courage  to  the  others,  and  in  coolness  equal  to  Godey,  had 
the  coup-d\ciI  of  a  chess-player,  covering  the  whole  field  with  a  glance  that 
sees  the  best  move.  His  dark-hazel  eye  was  the  marked  feature  of  his  face, 
lar<;e  and  flat  and  far-sighted. 

Godey  was  a  Creole  Frenchman  of  Saint  Louis,  of  medium  height  with 
black  eyes  and  silky  curling  black  hair  which  was  his  pride.  In  all 
Mtuations  he  had  that  care  of  his  person  which  good  looks  encourage. 
Once  when  with  us  in  Washington,  he  was  at  a  concert ;  immediately  behind 
liim  sat  the  wife  of  the  French  Minister,  Madame  Pageot,  who,  with  the 
I'Uly  by  her,  was  admiring  his  hair,  which  was  really  beautiful,  "  but,"  she 
^'\^'^."  Ccsf  line  pen-uquey     They  were  speaking  unguardedly  in  French. 


L«i 


?!■:*'« 


I !:";' 


428 


MEMOJJiS  Of  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  ER/-:M0X7'. 


I  ■  i 


n 


f 


1 1 


I    :)■ 


Godcy  had  no  idea  of  having  his  hair  disparaged  and  with  the  prompt 
coohiess  with  which  he  would  have  repelled  any  other  indignity  turned  in- 
stantly to  say,  '■'■  Pitnlon,  Madame,  c'csl  bien  a  moi.''''  The  ladies  were 
silenced  as  suddenly  as  the  touch  on  a  tree  trunk  silences  a  katydid. 

On  the  i()th  of  August  1  left  Bent's  Fort  with  a  well-apjjointed  compact 
party  of  sixty;  mostly  experienced  and  self-reliant  men,  equal  to  any  emer- 
gency likely  to  occur  and  willing  to  meet  it. 

On  the  2oth  of  August  we  encamped  on  the  Arkansas  at  the  mouth  of 
the  J-\>ti/tiine  qui  liouit  River.  I  had  with  me  good  instruments  for  astro- 
nomical observations,  among  them  a  portable  transit  instrument.  This  I  set 
up,  and  established  here  one  of  the  four  principal  positions  on  which  depend 
tiie  longitudes  of  the  region  embraced  in  the  expeditions.  The  longitude 
was  determined  by  moon  culminations  and  the  latitude  by  sextant  ol)ser\a- 
tions  of  Polaris  and  stars  in  the  south. 

The  resulting  longitude  at  this  position  is  104°  42'  41".  The  latitude 
38"  15'  iS". 

On  the  26th  we  encamped  at  the  mouth  of  the  Great  Canyon,  and  next 
morning  leaving  the  river  passed  in  our  wa}'  over  a  bench  of  the  mountain 
whicli  the  trappers  belie\cd  to  be  the  place  where  Pike  was  taken  prisoner 
by  the  Mexicans.  But  this  side  of  the  river  was  within  our  territory.  He 
iiupposcd  himself  to  be  on  the  Arkansas  when  he  was  taken  prisoner  on  the 
Rio  del  Xorte,  where  he  had  built  a  stockade. 

Crossing  various  forks  of  the  ri\er  we  tinalh',  on  September  2d.  reached 
and  continued  up  the  main  branch,  having  on  our  right  the  naked  rock  ridge 
ol  the  mountain,  and  encamped  at  night  on  the  head-waters  of  the  Arkansas 
in  Mexican  territory;  in  latitude  39°  20'  38",  longitude  106°  27'  15". 

This  was  pleasant  travelling.  The  weather  now  was  delightful  and  the 
riantry  beautiful.  Fresh  and  green,  aspen  groves  and  pine  woods  and  clear 
m:;  hing  water,  cool  streams  sparkling  over  rocky  beds. 

In  ;i  pine  grove  at  the  head  of  the  river  we  came  to  our  delighted  sur- 
piise  upon  a  small  herd  of  buffalo,  whi(  1  were  cnjo}ing  diemselves  in  the 
shade  and  fresh  grass  and  water.  It  wa  now  very  rare  that  these  animals 
were  found  so  far  west,  and  this  made  i  us  a  most  pleasant  and  welcome 
incident,  as  it  was  long  now  since  we  h  parted  from  the  buffalo.  This 
nuist  have  been  a  stray  herd  which  h  \  foimd  its  way  into  the  upper 
mountains  and  the}'  had  remained  for  a  1<  g  time  undisturbed.  Sometimes 
in  severe  winters  deer  rind  their  way  int  the  highest  parts  of  the  wooded 
mountains,  and  remain  there,  keeping  fat  and  sheltered  in  the  aspen  groves 
which  furnish  them  food.  Probably  this  little  herd  of  buffalo  had  done  the 
same.  The  Utah  Pass  was  several  days'  journey  to  the  southeast,  and  this 
iiart  of  the  mountain  was  out  of  the  way  of  ordinary  travel. 

Here  along  in  these  mountains  was  one  of  the  pleasantest  grounds  in  the 


THIRD  KXPEDITION—A  CLOSE  CALL. 


429 


journey.  Game  was  plenty;  deer  and  elk.  We  were  some  days  after  on 
the  mountain  slopes,  where  a  lovely  view  extended  across  a  broad  \alle}-  to 
the  opposite  ridf^es.  It  was  so  tine  a  view  that  Kern  sketched  it.  In  Ink* 
inif  over  the  country  I  had  ridden  off  a  mile  or  two  from  the  party,  kcepini^ 
aliinj,'  the  heights  to  enjo}'  the  air  and  views,  when  1  came  upon  a  small  hand 
(il  luiffjilo,  doubtless  part  of  the  herd  which  we  had  fcnmd  in  the  pines  at  the 
t(ip  of  the  mountain.  The  jjjround  was  rough,  but  we  had  a  fine  race.  I 
had  closed  up  and  was  about  to  tire  when  the  pistol  which  I  held  raised 
went  off,  and  the  ball  passed  so  close  to  my  head  that  I  reined  up  in  sur- 
pri>e.  My  holster  pistols  were  a  hair-trigger  pair,  and  old  companions 
which  I  liked  for  that,  and  because  they  were  true  as  a  rifle.  "  Sacn'  ban 
mipr  Basil  said  of  them  once  when  he  saw  the  head  of  a  quail  cut  off  at 
Ioiil:  range.  This  time  it  was  my  own  head.  It  is  in  this  way  that  men 
have  been  sometimes  lost  in  the  mountains  and  never  found.  They  lie  like 
the  trunk  of  a  fallen  tree  worn  by  the  snow  and  rain  until  the  tall,  rank 
pass  covers  and  hides  them.  M)'  trail  would  not  have  been  taken  in  time 
and  it  would  have  been  by  the  merest  chance  that  any  hunter  would  have 
passed  the  spot. 

One  of  the  Delawares  had  killed  a  fat  buffalo  cow.  This  singular  meet- 
ing with  the  buffalo  was  our  last;  and  they  were  probably  the  last  strag- 
glers that  ever  reached  the  western  slope  of  the  moimtains.  This  was  the 
general  opinion  of  our  people,  whose  experience  would  be  likely  to  make  it 
correct.  The  places  where  I  have  described  them  made  then  the  broadest 
ranrje  of  the  buffalo  from  east  to  west,  and  make  a  fair  exhibit  of  the 
abounding  animal  life  of  the  country. 

Passing  the  night  of  the  4th  on  Piny  River,  an  afHuent  of  Grand  River,  of 
the  Colorado  of  the  Gulf  of  California,  we  encamped  the  next  day  on  the 
same  river  at  "Williams  Fishery,"  in  longitude  106°  44'  21",  latitude  3')° 
39'  12".  We  caught  here  a  singular  fish,  which  was  called  buffalo-hsh  from 
a  hump  on  the  back,  rising  straight  up  immediately  behind  the  head. 

Between  fishermen  and  hunters  the  camp  was  abundantly  supplied  in  .'dl 
this  part  of  our  journey.  These  wood-clothed  ranges,  with  tlieir  abundant 
game  and  healthful  air,  we  have  seen  described  as  "  impenetrable  deserts 
whose  rugged  inaccessibility  barred  all  passage,  amid  whose  parched  sterility 
unfortunate  travellers  were  exposed  to  death  from  thirst  and  hunger." 

The  character  of  the  mountain  country  has  been  so  fully  given  in  the 
previous  journeys,  that  it  does  not  need  to  be  lf)nger  dwelt  upon  here.  On 
the  2d  of  October  I  encamped  on  a  branch  of  the  Timpanogos  River,  and 
on  the  loth  reached  the  shore  of  the  lake,  and  its  outlet  at  the  mouth  of 
Hugh's  Creek,  on  the  12th.  The  geographical  features  of  the  country  were 
carefully  sketched;  and  astronomical  observations,  for  which  the  continued 
tine  weather  favored  us,  were  ni.ule  on  the  different  affluents  to  the  Grand 


'M 


fcii.i 


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'^s^M 


r;!i1 


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i 

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'     ( 

I                       1 

f  '-i 


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ilillLiiai^ 

ii^iL^' 

430 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRiiMONT. 


and  Green  River  forks  of  the  Great  Colorado.  The  next  day  we  encamped 
at  a  creek  on  the  shore  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake,  where  I  made  the  second 
principal  station  for  longitude.  These  observations  resulted  in  longitude 
112"  06'  08",  and  latitude  40°  45'  53". 

It  will  be  remarked  that  our  journey  from  the  head  of  the  Arkansas  River 
had  been  continuously  in  Mexican  territory,  as  was  all  of  the  Salt  Lake  val- 
ley. Two  weeks  were  spent  in  this  valley  and  on  its  tributary  streams,  dur- 
ing which  we  were  occupied  in  fixing  the  positions  of  various  points,  and 
extending  our  examination  into  and  around  the  lake. 

The  rocky  sliorcs  of  its  islands  were  whitened  by  the  spray  which  leaves 
salt  on  everything  it  touches,  and  a  covering  like  ice  forms  ox  or  the  water 
which  the  waves  throw  among  tht-  rocks.  This  seems  to  be  the  drv  season 
when  the  waters  recede  ;  and  the  shores  of  the  lake,  especialh'  on  the  south 
side,  are  whitened  with  incrustations  of  tine  white  salt.  The  shal'ow  arms 
of  the  lake,  under  a  slight  covering  of  briny  water,  present  becl^^  of  salt 
extending  for  miles.  Plants  and  bushes  blown  b\-  the  winds  upon  these 
tields  are  entirely  incrusted  with  crystallized  salt.  The  stem  of  a  small  twiir. 
less  tiian  the  size  of  a  goose-quill,  from  the  southeastern  shore,  showed  a 
formation  of  more  than  an  inch  thick  of  crystallized  salt.  The  fresh  water 
recei\  ed  by  the  lake  is  great  in  quantity,  from  the  many  fresh-water  streams 
flowing  into  it,  but  they  seem  to  have  no  perceptible  effect.  We  could 
find  in  it  no  fish,  or  animal  life  of  any  kind,  the  larvie  which  were  accumu- 
lated in  beils  on  the  shore  being  found  to  belong  to  winged  insects.  On  the 
contrary,  the  upper  lake — the  Timpanogos — which  discharges  into  this  bv 
a  stream  about  thuty-five  miles  long,  is  fresh  water,  and  affords  large  trout 
and  other  lish  in  great  numbers.  These  constitute  the  food  of  the  Indians 
during  the  fishing  season. 

The  mineral  or  rock  salt  is  found  in  beds  of  great  thickness  at  the  heads 
of  a  stream  in  the  mountains  to  the  eastward  behind  the  lakes.  These 
strata  probabl}-  underlie  the  bed  of  the  Great  Lake,  and  constitute  the  de- 
pout  from  which  it  obtains  its  salt.  It  was  found  by  us  in  the  place  marked 
bv  Humboldt  on  his  map  of  New  Spain  as  derived  from  the  journal  of  the 
missionary  Father  Escalante,  who  towards  the  close  of  the  last  century 
attempted  to  penetrate  the  unknown  countr}-  from  Santa  Fe  of  New  Mex- 
ico to  Monterc}-  of  California.  But  he  does  not  seem  to  have  got  further  in 
his  adventurous  journey— and  this  at  that  time  was  far — than  the  south  end 
of  the  Timpanogos.  Southeast  of  this  lake  is  the  chain  of  the  Wahsatch 
Mountains,  which  make  in  that  part  the  rim  of  the  Great  Basin.  In  this 
mountain,  at  the  place  wlierc  Humboldt  has  written  "  J/r>wA?i,'V/t'.v  ^/r  m'/ 
Geiiniie  "  ( Rock  Salt  Mountain ),  the  strata  of  salt  are  found  in  thick  beds 
of  red  clay,  at  the  heads  of  a  small  stream  tributary  to  the  Utah  or  '1  mi- 
panogos  Lake  on  its  southeasterly  side. 


tlMONT. 

:  da}'  wc  encamped 
I  made  the  second 
liulted  in  longitude 

the  Arkansas  River 
E  the  Salt  Lake  val- 
)utary  streams,  dur- 
various  points,  and 

\  spray  which  leaves 
rms  over  the  water 
()  be  the  dr}'  scMsini 
)ecially  on  the  south 
The  shal'ow  arms 
present  bcd^  of  >alt 
s  winds  upon  these 
item  of  a  small  twig, 
;rn  shore,  showed  a 
t.     The  fri'sh  water 

fresh-water  streams 
'.  effect.  We  could 
vhich  were  accumu- 
red  insects.     On  the 

har_i!;es  into  this  by 
\  affords  large  trout 

food  of  the  Indians 

lickness  at  the  heads 

1  the  lakes.     I'hcso 

d  constitute  the  do- 

n  the  place  marked 

1  the  journal  of  the 

of  the  last  century 

ta  Fc  of  New  Mex- 

!iavc  got  further  in 

-than  the  south  end 

in  of  the  Wahsatch 

reat  Basin.    In  this 

"  Motitaii'iics  de  scl 

found  in  thick  beds 

the  Utah  or  Tim- 


THE  CLAIM  \NT. 


m 


U\ 


M 


THIRD  EXPEDITION— THE  CLAIMANT. 


431 


There  is  at  the  southern  end  of  the  lake  a  large  peninsular  island,  which 
tlie  Indians  informed  me  could  at  this  low  stage  of  the  water  be  reached  on 
horseback.  Accordingly  on  the  i8th  I  took  with  me  Carson  and  a  few 
men  and  rode  from  our  encampment  near  the  southeastern  shore  across  the 
shallows  to  the  island— almost  peninsular  at  this  low  stage  of  the  waters — 
(in  the  way  the  water  nowhere  reaching  above  the  saddle-girths.  The 
door  of  the  lake  was  a  sheet  of  salt  resembling  softening  ice,  into  which  the 
horses'  feet  sunk  to  the  fetlocks.  On  the  island  we  found  grass  and  water 
and  several  bands  of  antelope.  Some  of  these  were  killed,  and,  in  memor}' 
of  the  grateful  supply  of  food  they  furnished,  I  gave  their  name  to  the 
island.  An  observation  of  the  meridian  altitude  of  the  sun,  taken  on  the 
summit  of  the  peak  of  the  island,  gave  for  its  latitude  40°  58'  48". 

Returning  to  the  shore  we  found  at  the  camp  an  old  Utah  Indian.  See- 
ini,f  what  game  we  had  brought  in  he  promptly  informed  us  thai  the  ante- 
lope which  we  had  been  killing  were  his — that  all  the  antelope  on  that  island 
belonged  to  him — that  they  were  all  he  had  to  li\-e  upon,  and  that  we  must 
pav  him  for  the  meat  which  we  had  brought  away.  He  was  very  serious 
with  us  and  gra\ely  reproached  me  for  the  wrong  which  we  had  done  him. 
Pleased  with  his  readiness,  I  had  a  bale  luipacked  and  gave  him  a  present — 
^ome  red  cloth,  a  knife,  and  tobacco,  with  which  he  declared  himself  abun- 
dantly satisfied  for  this  trespass  on  his  game  preserve.  With  each  article 
laid  down,  his  nods  and  gutturals  expressed  the  satisfaction  he  felt  at  the 
Miccess  of  liis  imaginary  claim.  We  could  see,  as  far  as  an  Indian's  face 
lets  expression  be  seen,  that  he  was  thinking,  "  I  went  to  the  White  Chief 
who  killed  ni\-  antelope,  and  made  him  pa}'  for  it."  There  is  nothing  new 
under  the  sini. 

The  climate  of  this  lake  country  does  not  present  the  rigorous  winter  due 
to  its  elevation  and  mountainous  structure.  Observations  made  during  our 
stay  here  show  that  around  the  southern  shore  of  the  lake,  latitude  40"  ,^0'  to 
41".  for  two  weeks  in  the  month  of  October,  from  the  13th  to  the  27th,  the 
mean  temperature  was  40°  at  sunrise,  70°  at  noon,  and  54"  at  sunset;  ranging 
at  sunrise  from  2<S°  to  57°;  at  noon,  from  62"  to  76°;  at  four  in  the  afternoon, 
from  5S'  to  69°;  and  at  sunset,  from  47°  to  57°. 

L'ntil  the  middle  of  the  month  the  weather  remained  fair  and  very  pleas- 
ant. On  the  15th  it  began  to  rain  in  occasional  showers  which  whitened 
with  snow  the  tops  of  the  mountains  on  the  southeast  side  of  the  lake 
\ alley.  Flowers  were  in  bloom  during  all  the  month.  About  the  i8th, 
when  we  visited  the  large  island  in  the  south  of  the  lake,  licliaiifliiis,  sev- 
eral species  of  ash'i\  erodiuiii  cicntariuiii,  and  several  other  plants  were 
in  fresh  and  full  bloom;  the  grass  of  the  second  growth  was  coming  up 
tiiiely,  and  vegetation  generally  betokened  the  lengthened  summer  of  the 
^'limate. 


I' I   I    Hi, 


alfcs 


m 


ih 


432 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRJEMOXT. 


The  1 6th,  17th,  and  1 8th  were  stormy  with  rain;  hoav}-  at  niyht;  the 
peaks  of  the  Bear  River  range  and  tops  of  mountains  covered  with  snow. 
On  the  1 8th  the  sky  cleared  with  weather  Hke  that  of  late  spring,  and  con- 
tinued mild  and  clear  lUitil  the  end  of  the  month,  when  the  fine  wcatlicr  was 
again  interrupted  by  a  day  or  two  of  rain.  No  snow  showed  witliin  2000 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  valley. 

On  the  23d  I  encamped  at  a  spring  'n  a  valley  opening  on  the  southern 
shore  of  the  lake.  On  the  way,  near  the  shore,  we  came  to  a  small  run 
flowing  into  the  lake,  where  an  Indian  was  down  on  his  hands  and  knees, 
drinking.  Going  there  also  to  driik,  we  were  surprised  to  find  it  s;tlt. 
The  water  was  clear,  and  its  coolness  indicated  that  it  came  from  not  far 
below  the  surface. 

On  the  25th  we  moved  camp  to  a  valley  near  the  southwestern  shore 
about  hfty  miles  from  the  station  creek,  and  in  longitude  113°  05'  09", 
latitude  40°  38'  17". 

At  this  point  we  were  to  leave  the  lake.  From  any  neighboring  moun- 
tain height  looking  westward,  the  view  extended  over  ranges  whicli  occu- 
pied apparently  the  whole  visible  surface — nothing  but  mountains,  and  in 
winter-time  a  forbidding  prospect.  Afterwards,  as  we  advanced,  we  found 
the  It.'ngthening  horizon  continued  the  same  prospect  until  it  stretched  over 
the  waters  of  the  Pacific.  Looking  across  over  the  crests  of  these  rid<res, 
which  nearly  al'  .un  north  and  south,  was  like  looking  lengthwise  along  the 
teeth  of  a  saw. 

Some  days  here  were  occupied  in  deciding  upon  the  direction  to  he 
taken  for  the  onward  journey.  The  route  I  wished  to  take  lay  over  a  Hat 
plain  co\ered  with  sage-brush.  The  coimlr\-  looked  dry  and  of  m\-  own 
men  none  knew  anjthing  of  it;  neither  Walker  nor  Carson.  The  Indiiin- 
declared  to  lis  that  no  one  had  ever  been  known  to  cross  the  plain,  wliich  \va- 
desert;  so  far  as  an}'  of  them  had  ventured  no  water  had  been  found,  h 
was  probabh'  for  this  reason  Feather  Escalante  had  turned  back.  Men  who 
have  travelled  over  this  country  in  later  years  are  familiar  with  the  stony. 
black,  Unfertile  mountains,  that  so  often  discouraged  and  brougiit  them  ('i^■ 
appointmeuL.  Nearly  upon  the  line  of  our  intended  travel,  and  at  tlie  lar- 
ther  edge  of  the  desert,  apparently  fifty  to  sixty  miles  away,  was  a  pe;ik- 
shaped  mountain.  This  looked  to  me  to  be  fertile,  and  it  seemed  safe  to 
make  an  attempt  to  reach  it.  By  some  persuasion  and  the  offer  of  a  tempt- 
ing reward,  I  had  induced  one  of  the  local  Indians  to  go  as  guide  on  the 
wa}-  to  the  mountain ;  willing  to  profit  by  any  side  knowledge  of  the  <,n-ouiicl, 
or  water-hole  that  the  rains  might  have  left,  and  about  which  the  Indians 
always  know  in  their  hunts  through  the  sage  after  small  game. 

I  arranged  that  Carson,  Archambeau,  and  Maxwell  should  set  out  at 
night,  taking  with  them  a  man  having  charge  of  a  pack-mule  with  water  and 


:r. 

It  niiiht;  the 

d  with  snow. 

hig,  and  con- 

weather  was 

within  2O00 

I  the  soutlicrn 
)  a  small  run 
ds  and  knees, 
:i  tuid  it  salt, 
c  from  !"iOt  far 

western  shore 
1 1 3"  05'  09", 

libt)rinij;  moun- 
>s  which  occu- 
antains,  and  in 
iced,  we  found 
stretched  oxer 
of  these  ridircs, 
iwise  along  the 

lireetion  to  he 
lav  over  a  flat 
nd  of  my  own 
The  Indian- 
llain,  which  wa- 
heen  found.    It 
lick.     Men  who 
,vith  the  stony, 
(Hight  them  ilis- 
,and  at  the  i:u- 
.y,  was  a  peak- 
seemed  safe  to 
ffer  of  a  tempt- 
,s  guide  on  the 
of  the  ground, 
lich  the  Indian> 
lie. 

lould  set  out  at 
:  with  water  and 


Til  mo  i:\  PF.I^  1 1  lOX— ARCH AMBEAU  BRINGS  GOOD  TIDINGS.   43-^ 

provisions,  and  make  for  the  mountain.  I  to  follow  with  the  party  the  next 
day  and  make  one  camp  out  into  the  desert.  They  to  make  a  signal  by 
smoke  in  case  water  should  be  found. 

The  next  afternoon,  when  the  sun  was  yet  two  hours  high,  with  the 
animals  rested  and  well  watered,  I  started  out  on  the  plain.  As  we  advanced 
this  was  found  destitute  of  any  vegetation  except  sage-bushes,  and  absolutely 
bare  and  smooth  as  if  water  had  been  standing  upon  it.  The  animals  being 
fresh  I  stretched  far  out  into  the  plain.  Travelling  along  in  the  night,  after 
a  few  hours'  march,  my  hidian  lost  his  courage  and  grew  so  much  alarmed 
that  his  knees  reall}'  ga\"e  way  under  him  and  he  wabbled  about  like  a 
drunken  man.  He  was  not  a  true  Utah,  but  rather  of  the  Pi-utes,  a  Digger 
')f  the  upper  class,  and  he  was  becoming  demoralized  at  being  taken  so  far 
from  his  i,'77e.  Seeing  that  he  could  be  of  no  possible  use  I  gave  him  his  prom- 
ised reward  and  let  him  go.  He  was  so  happy  in  his  release  that  he  bovuided 
off  like  a  hare  through  the  sage-brush,  fearful  that  I  might  still  keep  him. 

Sometime  before  morning  I  m.ide  camp  in  the  sage-brush,  lighting  tires 
to  signal  Carson's  party.  Before  daybreak  Archambeau  rode  in  ;  the  jing- 
ling of  his  spurs  a  welcome  sound  indicating  as  it  did  that  he  brought  good 
tidings.  They  had  found  at  the  peak  water  and  grass,  and  wood  abundant. 
The  gearing  up  was  quickly  done  and  in  the  afternoon  we  reached  the  foot 
(if  the  mountain,  where  a  cheerful  little  stream  broke  out  and  lost  itself  in 
the  valley.  The  animals  were  quickly  turned  loose,  there  being  no  risk  of 
their  straying  from  the  grass  and  water.  To  the  friendly  mountain  I  gave 
the  name  of  Pilot  Peak.  From  my  observation  this  oasis  is  in  the  latitude  41° 
00*28"  longitude  114°  11' 09".  Some  time  afterward,  wdien  our  crossing  of 
the  desert  became  known,  an  emigrant  cara\an  was  taken  by  this  route, 
which  then  became  kni)wn  as  The  Ilastinirs  Cut-off. 

We  gave  the  animals  a  day's  rest  here.  The  crossing  of  the  desert  had 
been  a  little  strain  upon  them  ;  many  of  them  being  grain-fed  horses,  unused 
to  travelling  on  grass.  These  cannot  stand  being  over-fatigued,  soon  reach- 
ing the  stage  which  is  called  in  the  language  of  the  coimtry  rcsfi' :  from 
which  they  cannot  recover  without  time,  and  must  be  left  on  the  trail. 
With  a  mule  it  is  very  different.  He  may  be  res/i'  at  night,  but  gi\  e  him 
plenty  of  good  grass  and  water  and  he  is  ready  for  ser\ice  in  the  morning. 

On  the  1st  of  No\cmber  wc  resumed  our  journe\".  The  ridges  which 
occupied  the  basin  and  which  lay  across  our  route  are  short,  being  the  links 
which  form  the  ranges  ;  and  between  their  overlapping  points  were  easy- 
passes  by  which  the  \allcys  connect.     This  is  their  regular  structure. 

Through  these  passes  we  wound  our  way  and  in  the  evening  encamped 
at  a  spring  in  the  head  o*  a  ravine  which  my  observations  put  in  longitude 
114°  2(1'  2i'\  latitude  40°  43'  29",  and  the  next  day  I  made  camp  at  a  spring 
to  which  I  gave  the  name  of  Whitton,  one  of  my  men  who  discovered  it. 


i    I. 


^m.f 


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IK'  .1 


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1 

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1 

434 


A/JiA/O/A'S  OF  A/y  LIFE -JOHN  CJIAKLKS  J'JiAAJONT. 


In  advaiuiiii,',  tlic  country  was  always  carefully  examined,  so  far  as  the 
eye  could  form  any  judj^ment  upon  it;  and  from  the  early  morninj,'  start  the 
nun  were  spread  over  it  to  search  for  a  campinj^-plaee  winch  wjiji  water 
should  j;ive  the  best  ^rass. 

The  winter  was  now  approachin}^  and  1  had  j^ood  reason  to  Ivnow  what 
the  snow  would  be  in  the  (ireat  Sierra.  It  was  imprudent  to  lin;,ar  lont,' 
in  the  examination  of  the  (Jreat  Uasin.  In  order  therefore  to  use  to  the 
best  advanta<fe  the  interval  of  ^ood  weather  1  decided  to  divide  my  party 
and  run  two  sejiarate  lines  across  the  Basin. 

On  the  evenin<jf  of  tiie  8th  I  encamped  on  a  small  stream  which  1  called 
Crane's  P»nuich  after  one  of  my  Delaware  hunters.  Crane  was  a  f^ood  juilf^'e 
of  country  witii  a  (piick  eye  exercised  in  hunting.  He  was  one  of  the  men 
I  liked  to  have  near  nic.  lie  was  usually  serious  and  diiijnilied  e\eiif(ir 
an  Indian,  whoare  naturally  <^ra\e  men.  The  objects  wiiich  furnish  ideas  to 
tiie  mind  of  an  Indian  are  very  few  and  mostly  what  he  sees  within  a  liniitetl 
ranj^e.  Within  this,  the  game  and  other  natural  objects  which  conic  before 
his  exes;  and  outside  of  it,  the  enemies  whom  he  goes  to  liglit  and  scalp,  if 
he  can.  These  make  iiis  two  sets  of  ideas.  Nearer  to  the  whites,  other 
subjects  force  their  way  in  confused  shape  through  the  harriers  of  an 
unknown  language,  but  these  are  quite  outside  of  the  usual  Indian  under- 
stan'Mng.  The  subjects  belonging  to  theii-  manner  of  life  they  iiesitate  In 
talu  about  witli  the  whites;  this  and  the  difference  of  language  make  tlieni 
reserv  cd  to  us.     With  me  the  Delawares  were  now  making  the  grand  tour. 

Crane's  Branch  led  into  a  larger  stream  that  was  one  of  two  forks  form- 
ing a  river  to  which  I  gave  the  name  of  Humboldt.  I  am  given  by  hirself 
the  honor  of  being  the  first  to  place  his  great  name  on  the  map  of  the 
continent. 

Both  the  river  and  mountain  to  which  I  gave  his  name  are  conspieuous 
objects;  the  river  stretching  across  the  Basin  to  the  foot  of  the  Sierra 
Nevada,  and  the  mountain  standing  out  in  greater  bulk  and  length  than  \y< 
neiirhbors.  and  being  one  of  those  which  I  have  named  fertile  mountains, 
having  on  it  abundant  water  and  grass,  and  woods. 

Years  after  in  travelling  through  that  country  I  was  glad  to  find  that 
ri\  er  and  mountain  held  his  name,  not  only  on  the  maps,  but  in  usage  bv 
the  people. 

I  now  divided  the  party,  giving  to  Mr.  Kern  the  charge  of  the  main  hodv 
wit!)  ;;i  Motions  to  follow  down  and  survey  the  Humboldt  River  and  its 
va'.l.  ■  ■■  ci'cir  termination  in  what  was  called  "  the  Sink."  This  is  a  broad 
lc\ii  !)'  '.o'l!  of  fertile  land  ;  probably  once  the  bed  of  the  lake  when  over 
all  thi^,  -rgii},!,  ai  a  time  not  very  remote,  the  waters  were  higher.  When 
I  passed  there  tuo  ^ears  later  it  was  co-. ered  with  grass  and  several  varieties 
of  cloNcr.     Thence  to  continue  on  along  the  eastern  foot  of  the  Siena  te a 


nilKiy  I.XJ'EDniON—CATCIJA  MRDITATIVF.  NAKED  IN  1)1  AX. 


■\y^ 


lake  to  which  I  have  ^ivcn  the  name  of  Walker,  who  was  to  be  his  ^uide 
on  this  survey.  I  had  enj^a^ed  Mr.  Walker  for  guide  in  this  part  of  the 
reirion  to  be  explored,  with  which,  and  the  southern  part  of  the  "  California 
Mountain  "  he  was  well  acquainted.  The  place  of  meetin}^  for  the  two  par- 
lirs  was  to  be  the  lake. 

This  party  would  have  a  secure  line  of  travel  in  followin;^  the  river, 
which  would  furnish  j^rass  and  water  for  the  entire  journey  and  so  keep  the 
Lrrcatcr  number  of  the  animals  in  as  j^ood  condition  as  the  season  admitted. 

To  accompany  myself  1  selected  ten  men,  amon<^  whom  were  some  of 
•lu'  Delawares.  I  took  leave  of  the  main  party  and  .set  out  on  a  line 
westward  directly  across  the  liasin,  the  look  of  the  country  inducinf:j  me 
;■!  turn  somewhat  to  the  south. 

\Vc  lost  no  time  in  pressing  forward  ;  but  the  tortuous  course  rendered 
;.n;ivoidahle  b}-  the  necessity  of  using  just  such  passes  as  the  mountains  gave, 
,iii(l  in  searching  for  grass  and  water,  greatl}'  lengthened  our  road.  Still  it 
■.'live  me  knowledge  of  the  country.  The  early  morning  i>egan  the  day's 
work  by  the  usual  careful  study  of  the  ground  ahead  for  indications  to  tlie 
-est  line  of  travel,  and  so  soon  as  they  were  ready  the  hunters  started  out 
)  thi:  right  and  left,  scouring  the  country  as  we  ad\  anccd.  When  anything 
worthy  of  note  was  discovered  a  shot  was  Hred,  or  the  horseman  would 
make  a  few  short  turns  backward  and  forward  as  a  signal  that  sometliing 
requiring  attention  had  been  found. 

We  succeeded  in  finding  always  good  camping-grounds,  usually  avail- 
ins  ourselves  of  the  Indian  trails  which  skirted  the  foot  of  the  ridges. 
When  well  marked  showing  use,  these  never  failed  to  lead  to  water  and 
•he  larger  the  tr;jl  the  more  abundant  the  water.  This  we  alwa}-s  found 
at  the  edge  of  the  mountain,  generally  in  some  ravine,  and  quickly  sinking 
:ito  the  ground  ;  never  reaching  the  valley  except  in  seasons  of  rain. 
Doubtless  artesian  wells  would  find  it  and  make  fertile  these  valleys,  which 
tw  are  dry  and  barren. 

Travelling  along  the  foot  of  a  mountain  on  one  of  these  trails  we  dis- 
"vcred  a  light  smoke  rising  from  a  ravine,  and  riding  quietly  up,  found 
ii  single  Indian  standing  before  a  little  sage-brush  tire  over  which  was 
'langing  a  small  earthen  pot,  tilled  with  sage-bush  squirrels.  Another 
3uneh  of  squirrels  la}-  near  it  and  close  by  were  his  bow  and  arrows.  He 
was  deep  in  a  brown  study,  thinking  perhaps  of  some  game-trail  which  he 
:wd  seen  and  intended  to  follow  that  afternoon,  and  did  not  see  or  hear 
■':s  until  we  were  directly  upon  him,  his  absorbed  thoughts  and  the  sides 
"f  the  ravine  cutting  off  sounds.  Escape  for  him  was  not  possible  and  he 
tried  to  seem  pleased,  but  his  convulsive  start  and  wild  look  around 
^liowed  that  he  thought  his  end  had  come.  And  so  it  would — abruptl\  — 
■id  the  Delawares  been  alone.     With  a  deprecating  smile  he   offered   us 


r  ?. 


Si   ' 


f :  . 


I  l.l 


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!■:   : 


436 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LI I-I-l—JOItX  CHARLES  FKEMOXT. 


part  of  his  pot-aii-fcu  and  his  bunch  of  squirrels.  I  reassured  him  with  a 
friendly  shake  of  the  hand  and  a  trifling  f^ift.  He  was  a  j^ood-lookin"^ 
young  man,  well  made,  as  these  Indians  usually  are,  and  naked  as  a  worm. 

'l"he  Delawares  lingered  as  we  turned  awa}',  but  I  would  not  i^t 
them  remain.  Anyhow  they  regardi'd  our  journey  as  a  kind  of  war-path, 
and  no  matter  what  kind  of  path  he  is  upon  a  Delaware  is  alwavs  readv 
to  take  a  sealp  wlien  he  is  in  a  country  where  there  are  strange  Indians. 
We  had  gone  but  a  short  distance  when  I  found  they  had  brought  a\va\ 
his  bow  and  arrows,  but  I  had  them  taken  immediately  back.  These  wciv 
well  made  ;  the  bow  strong,  and  made  still  stronger  with  sinews,  and  the 
arrows  were  all  headed  with  obsidian  worked  in  the  usual  spear  shape  In 
patient  labor,  and  nearly  as  sharp  as  steel.  The  Delawares  ti)ok  them  hack 
willingly  when  I  reminded  them  that  they  had  exposed  the  poor  fellow  to 
almost  certain  starvation  by  depriving  him  at  the  beginning  of  winter  of  his 
only  means  to  procure  food. 

At  one  of  our  camps  on  the  foot-slopes  of  a  ridge  we  found  again  springs 
of  boiling  water;  but  a  little  way  distant  from  the  spring  of  cold  water  which 
supplied  us. 

A  day  or  two  after  we  saw  mountain  sheep  for  the  first  time  in  crossiiu: 
the  Basin.  None  were  killed,  but  that  afternoon  Carson  killed  an  antelope. 
That  da\-  we  tra\elled  late,  making  for  the  point  of  a  wooded  mountain  where 
we  had  expected  to  find  water,  but  on  reaching  it  found  only  the  dry  hed 
of  a  creek  where  there  was  sometimes  -unning  water.  It  was  too  late  to 
go  farther  and  I  turned  up  the  creek  bed,  taking  the  chance  to  find  it  almve 
as  the  mountain  looked  promising.  Well  up,  towards  the  top  of  the  nioiiii- 
tain,  nearly  two  thousand  feet  above  the  plain,  we  came  upon  a  spring  where 
the  little  basin  afforded  enough  for  careful  use.  A  bench  of  the  mountain 
near  by  made  a  good  camping-ground,  for  the  November  nights  were  cool 
and  newly-fallen  snow  already  marked  out  tlie  higher  ridges  of  the  moun- 
tains. With  grass  abundant,  and  pine  wood  and  cedars  to  keep  up  the  nvM 
fires,  we  were  well  pro\  ided  for. 

Sagundai  who  had  first  found  the  spring  saw  fresh  tracks  made  in  the 
sand  by  a  woman's  naked  foot,  and  the  spring  had  been  recently  cleaned 
out.  But  he  saw  no  other  indications  of  human  life.  We  had  made  our 
supper  on  the  antelope  and  were  King  around  the  fire,  and  the  men  takini: 
their  great  comfort  in  smoking.  A  good  supper  and  a  pipe  make  for  them 
a  comfortable  ending  no  matter  how  hard  the  day  has  been.  Carson  wh" 
was  lying  on  his  back  with  his  pipe  in  his  mouth,  his  hands  under  his  head 
and  his  feet  to  the  fire,  suddenly  exclaimed,  half  rising  and  pointing  to  tiu 
other  side  of  the  fire,  "Good  God!  look  there!"  In  the  bla/e  of  'he  tir;. 
peering  over  her  skinny,  crooked  hands,  which  shaded  her  eyes  from  tiic 
glare,  was  standing  an  old  woman  apparently  eighty  years  of  age,  nearh 


lONT. 


ircd  liini  with  a 
a  p)()d-l(H>kini; 
ikcd  as  a  worm. 
would    not    let 
ind  of  war-path, 
is  always  readv 
strange  Indians. 
d  brought  awav 
jk.     These  Wire 
1  sinews,  and  the 
spear  shape  hy 
;  took  them  baek 
ic  poor  fellow  tn 
Lj  of  winter  of  his 

uid  again  sprinirs 
cold  water  which 

t  time  in  crossiiv.r 

:illed  an  antelope. 

d  mountain  where 

only  the  dr}-  bed 

It  was  too  late  to 

c  to  find  it  abme 

top  of  the  mouiv 

on  a  spring  whore 

of  the  mouiuaia 

nights  were  eool 

lies  of  the  moun- 

eep  up  the  night 

icks  made  in  the 
recently  cleaned 
c  had  made  our 
d  the  men  takini: 
-)e  make  for  them 
en.  Carson  wlm 
[Is  under  his  head 
id  pointing  to  the 
blaze  of  'he'  tiv'. 
cr  eyes  from  tlie 
-s  of  age.  nearly 


t^; 


y 

a. 
3 


Q 
y. 

Q 


V. 

a 


o 

o 


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■  \  '\ 


rlil 


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f-H  t 


I    :i 


Mi: 


a:  J 


•      I 


rillRI')  KXPEDITION— LARSON  CRIES  '^GOOD  GOD!  LOOK  TIfER/-:.'".^T^-^ 


naked,  her  f,'rizzly  hair  hanging  clown  over  her  face  and  shoulders.  She 
had  thought  it  a  camp  of  her  people  and  had  already  begun  to  talk  and 
iresticulate,  when  her  open  mouth  was  paralyzed  with  fright,  as  she  saw 
the  faces  of  tlie  whites.  She  turned  to  escape,  but  the  men  had  gathered 
about  her  and  brought  her  around  to  the  tire.  Hunger  and  cold  soon 
(lisnclled  fear  and  she  made  us  understand  that  she  had  been  left  by  lici- 
ni.i)]ile  at  the  spring  to  die,  because  she  was  very  old  and  could  gather  iiu 
more  seeds  and  was  no  longer  good  for  anything.  She  told  us  she  iiad 
nothing  to  eat  and  was  \ery  hungry.  We  gave  her  immediateh-  about  a 
quarter  of  the  antelope,  thinking  she  would  roast  it  by  our  fire,  but  no 
xioiier  did  she  get  it  in  her  hand  than  she  darted  off  into  the  darkness. 
Some  one  ran  after  her  with  a  brand  of  fire,  but  calling  after  her  brought  no 
answer.  In  the  morning,  her  fresh  tracks  at  the  spring  showed  that  she  had 
been  there  for  water  during  the  night.  Starvation  had  driven  her  to  us,  but 
her  natural  fear  drove  her  away  as  quickly,  so  soon  as  she  had  secured 
something  to  eat.  Before  we  started  we  left  for  her  at  the  spring  a  little 
^u]^plv  from  what  food  we  had.  This,  with  what  she  could  gather  from  the 
nut-pine  trees  on  the  mountain,  together  with  our  tire  which  she  could  easilv 
keep  up.  would  probably  prohing  her  life  even  after  the  snows  came.  The 
nut-pines  and  cedars  extend  their  branches  out  to  the  ground  and  in  one  of 
their  thickets,  as  I  ha\e  often  proved,  these  make  a  comfortable  shelter 
airainst  the  most  violent  snow-storms. 

This  was  Sangundai's  Spring.  The  names  of  my  camps  here  along 
become  the  record  of  the  rivalry  of  the  men  in  finding  good  camps.  It 
became  the  recurring  interest  of  each  day  to  pro\-e  their  judgment  of  country 
a'>  well  as  their  skill  as  hunters. 

The  region  here  along  had  a  special  interest  for  me  and  our  progress  was 
^low  for  the  two  following  da}'s.  We  had  now  reached  a  low  Aalley  line 
that  extends  along  the  eastern  foot  of  the  ridges  which  constitute  the 
Sierra  Nevada.  Into  this  low  ground  the  rivers  from  the  Sierra  as  well  as 
from  the  Basin  gather  into  a  series  of  lakes  extending  south  towards  the 
head  of  the  Gulf  of  California.  I  had  a  reason  for  carefully  examining  tliis 
part  of  the  Basin,  but  the  time  needed  for  it  would  interfere  with  other 
objects  and  the  winter  was  at  hand. 

The  place  appointed  for  meeting  the  main  part}-  was  on  the  eastward 
:-hore  of  Walker's  Lake  near  the  point  where  the  ri\er  to  which  I  had  gi\en 
the  same  name  empties  into  it  I\Iaking  our  wa^■  along  the  foot  of  the 
mountain  towards  our  rendezvous  we  had  reached  one  of  the  lakes  where  at 
this  season  the  scattered  Indians  of  the  neighborhood  were  gatheiing  to  fish. 
Turning  a  point  on  the  lake  shore  the  part}'  of  Indians  some  twelve  or  four- 
teen in  number  came  abruptly  into  view.  They  were  advancing  along  in 
hidian  tile,  one  following  the  other,  their    heads    bent   forward    and  eves 


lo',  J 


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MliJ/O/A'S  OF  MY  LIFE- JOHN  CHAKLES  IRkMQNT, 


!   ! 


H 


rixcd  on  the  <:r()uncl.  As  our  party  met  thorn  the  Indians  did  not  turn 
their  heads  nor  raise  their  eves  from  the  f^round.  Their  eoiuluet  in(l,i;iti.(l 
unfriendHnes^.  but.  iiabituated  to  the  uneertainties  of  savaj^e  life,  we  too  Kl' 
readily  into  their  humor,  and  passed  on  our  way  without  word  or  iialt 
Even  to  us  it  was  a  stranjje  meeting,'. 

It  was  the  sohtary  oeeasion  where  I  met  with  sueh  an  instance  of  sullen 
and  detiant  hostility  amont,'  Indians  and  where  they  neither  sout^'ht  nor 
avoided  contliet.  I  juil<;ed  that  they  either  rej^arded  us  as  intnukrs.  oi-  tli.ii 
they  had  received  some  recent  injury  from  the  whites  who  were  now 
be<,nnnini,f  to  enter  California,  and  which  they  wished  but  feared  to  avniire. 

In  tliis  rei,non  the  condition  of  tiie  Indian  is  nearlv  akin  to  tliat  of  tin.' 
lower  animals.  Here  they  are  really  -vild  iiii'ii.  In  his  wild  state  the 
Indian  lives  to  fjet  food.  This  is  his  business.  The  superfluous  part  of  his 
life,  that  portion  whicii  can  be  otherwise  employed,  is  devoted  to  sonic  kind 
of  warfare.  From  this  lowest  condition,  where  he  is  found  as  the  simplest 
element  of  existence,  up  to  the  highest  in  which  he  is  found  on  this  continent, 
it  is  the  same  thin<f.  In  the  Great  Basin,  where  nearly  naked  he  travellec' 
on  foot  and  lived  in  the  >a;:,a'-brush.  I  found  him  in  the  most  elementary  form: 
the  men  living  alone,  the  women  livin<^  alone,  but  all  after  food.  Sometime> 
one  man  cookinj;  by  his  solitary  tire  in  the  sa<je-brush  which  was  his  home, 
his  bow  and  arrows  and  bunch  oi  squirrels  by  his  side;  sometimes  on  the 
shore  of  a  lake  or  river  where  food  was  more  abundant  a  little  band  of  men 
might  be  found  occupied  in  flshinj;:  miles  awa}'  a  few  women  would  be  mc: 
^fathering  seeds  and  insects,  or  huddled  up  in  a  shelter  of  sage-brush  to  keep 
off  the  snow.  And  the  same  on  the  mountains  or  prairies  where  the  wik! 
Indians  were  found  in  their  highest  condition,  where  they  had  horses  aiui 
lived  in  lodges.  The  labor  of  their  lives  was  to  get  something  to  eat.  Tin. 
occupation  of  the  women  was  in  gleaning  from  the  earth  evervthinfj  ot 
vegetable  or  insect  life;  the  occupation  of  the  men  was  to  kill  every  animal 
they  could  for  food  and  every  man  of  e\"ery  other  tribe  for  pleasure.  And. 
in  every  attempt  to  civilize,  these  are  the  two  iioes  upon  which  he  is  to  he 
met. 

On  the  24th  we  encamped  at  our  rendc/'.^  .■'•is  on  the  lake  where  beds  of 
rushes  made  good  pasturage  for  our  animals.  Three  da'}  s  afterward  the 
main  party  arrived.  They  were  all  in  good  health,  and  had  met  with  no 
serious  accident.  But  the  scarcity  of  game  had  made  itself  felt,  and  wc 
were  now  all  nearly  out  of  provisions.  It  was  now  almost  midwinter,  and 
the  open  weather  could  not  be  expected  to  last. 

In  this  journey  across  the  Basin,  between  latitudes  41°  and  38,"  durini; 
the  month  of  November  from  the  5th  to  the  25th,  the  mean  tempcratuiv 
was  29°  at  sunrise  and  40°  at  sunset,  ranging  at  noon  between  4  rand  60. 
There  was  a  snow-storm  between  the  4th  and  jth,  snow  falling  principally 


i|i 


THIRD  F.XPKnrriOX    CO.Uri'lLLED   70  DIVIDE  MV  I'AKTV. 


I,V> 


:cd  he  tr:\vi.'"n.( 


at  ni;;lit.  and  the  sun  occasionally  breaking  out  in  the  day.  The  lower 
hills  and  valleys  were  covered  only  a  few  inches  deep  with  snow,  which 
the  sun  carried  off  in  a  few  hours  after  the  storm  was  o\cr.  The  weathci 
cdiitimicd  uninterruptedly  clear  and  beautiful  until  the  close  of  the  month. 
But  tliouixh  the  skies  were  clear  it  was  colder  now  that  wc  had  come  with- 
in the  intlucnce  of  the  main  Sierra. 

1  was  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  passaj^e  which  I  had  forced  across  it 
a  vear  before,  ;ind  1  had  it  on  my  mind.  Heavy  snows  miL,dit  be  daily  e.\- 
xvtcd  to  block  up  the  passes,  and  I  considered  that  in  this  event  it  would 
;ic  hopeless  to  attempt  a  crossin<f  with  the  material  of  the  whole  party. 

1  therefore  decided  aj^ain  to  divide  it,  sending  the  main  boily  under 
Kern  to  continue  southwaril  aloni;  the  lake  line  and  pass  around  the  Point 
(if  the  California  Mountain  into  the  head  of  the  Sanjoaipiin  valley.  There, 
as  already  described,  the  ^reat  Sierra  comes  down  nearly  to  the  plain, 
inakinj;  a  Point,  as  in  the  smaller  links,  and  makinj;^  open  and  easy  passes 
where  there  is  never  or  rarel\'  snow.  As  before,  Walker,  who  was  familiar 
with  the  southern  part  of  Uppvr  California,  was  made  the  ,<j;;uide  of  the 
riartv;  and,  after  considerinj^  the  advanta<j:es  of  different  places,  it  was 
agreed  that  the  jilace  of  meetinij;  for  the  two  parties  should  be  at  a  little 
lake  in  the  valley  of  a  river  called  the  Lake  Fork  of  the  Tidarc  Lake. 

With  a  selected  party  of  fifteen,  among  whom  were  some  of  my  best 
men,  including  several  Delawares,  I  was  to  attempt  the  crossing  of  the 
miuintain  in  order  to  get  through  to  Sutter's  Fort  before  the  snow  began 
ti)  fall.  At  the  fort  I  could  obtain  the  necessary  supplies  for  the  relief  of 
the  main  part}'. 

Leaving  them  in  good  order,  and  cheerful  at  the  prospect  of  escaping 
from  the  winter  into  the  beautiful  "  California  Valley,"  as  it  was  then  called. 
wc  separated,  and  I  took  up  my  route  for  the  river  which  llows  into  P}r- 
amid  Lake,  and  which  on  my  last  journey  I  had  named  Salmon-Trout 
River, 

I  now  entered  a  region  which  hardship  had  made  familiar  to  me,  and  I 
was  not  compelled  to  feel  my  way,  but  used  every  hour  of  the  day  to  press 
forward  towards  the  Pass  at  the  head  of  this  river. 

On  the  1st  of  December  I  struck  it  above  the  lower  canon,  and  on  the 
evcnincj  of  the  4th  camped  at  its  head  on  the  east  side  of  the  pass  in  the  Sierra 
Nevada.  Our  effort  had  been  to  reach  the  pass  before  a  heavy  fall  of  snow, 
and  we  had  succeeded.  All  night  wc  watched  the  sky,  ready  to  attempt  the 
passage  with  the  first  indication  of  falling  snow ;  but  the  sky  continued  clear. 
On  our  way  up,  the  fine  weather  which  we  had  left  at  the  foot  of  the  moun- 
tain continued  to  favor  us,  and  when  we  reached  the  pass  the  only  snow 
>howin<i  was  on  the  peaks  of  the  mountains. 

At  three  in  the  afternoon  the  temperiture  was  46°;  at  sunset,  ,^4".     The 


'M 


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440 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


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observations  of  the  night  gave  for  tlic  longitude  of  the  pass,  I2o°ic'2o" 
and  for  latitud  ,  39°  17'  12".  Early  the  next  morning  we  climbed  the 
rocky  ridge  which  faces  the  eastern  side,  and  at  sunrise  were  on  tlie  crest 
of  the  divide,  7200  feet  above  the  sea;  the  sky  perfectly  clear,  and  the  tem- 
perature 22°.  There  was  no  snow  in  the  pass,  but  already  it  showed  appar- 
ently deep  on  higher  ridges  and  mountain-tops.  The  emigrant  road  now- 
passed  here  following  down  a  fork  of  Bear  River,  which  leads  from  the  pass 
into  the  Sacramento  valley.  Finding  this  a  rugged  way,  I  turned  to  the 
south  and  encamped  in  a  mountain-meadow  where  the  grass  was  fresh  and 
green.  We  had  made  good  our  passage  of  the  mountain  and  entered  now 
among  the  grand  x'cgetation  of  the  California  valley.  Even  if  the  snow 
should  now  begin  to  fall,  we  could  outstrip  it  into  the  valle}-,  where  the 
winter  king  already  shrunk  from  the  warm  breath  of  spring. 

The  route  the  next  day  led  over  good  travelling  ground;  gaining  a  broad 
leading  ridge  we  travelled  along  through  the  silence  of  a  noble  pine  forest 
where  many  of  the  trees  were  of  great  height  and  uncommon  size.  Tiietall 
red  columns  standing  closely  on  the  clear  ground,  the  tiltcrcd,  rtickeriivi 
sunshine  from  their  summits  far  overhead,  gave  the  dim  religious  Htrht 
of  cathedral  aisles,  opening  out  on  every  side,  one  after  the  other,  as  w  c 
advanced.  Later,  in  early  spring,  these  forest  grounds  are  covered  with 
a  blue  carpet  of  forget-me-nots. 

The  pines  of  the  European  forests  would  hide  their  diminished  lieads 
amidst  these  great  columns  of  the  Sierra.  A  species  of  cedar  (  Thuya  o-it^-an- 
teii)  occurred  often  of  extraordinary  bulk  and  height.  Pinus  Lanihcrfiani 
was  one  of  the  most  frequent  trees,  distinguished  among  cone-bearing  tribes 
by  the  length  of  its  cones,  which  are  sometimes  sixteen  or  eighteen  inches 
long.  The  Indians  eat  the  inner  part  of  the  burr,  and  I  noticed  large  heaps 
of  them  \\'here  they  had  been  collected. 

Leaving  the  higher  ridges  we  gained  the  smoother  spurs  and  descended 
about  4000  feet,  the  face  of  the  country  rapidly  changing  as  we  went  down. 
The  country  became  low  and  rolling;  pines  began  to  disappear,  and  \aii- 
eties  of  oak,  principally  an  evergreen  resembling  live  oak,  became  the  pre- 
dominating forest  growth.  The  oaks  bear  great  quantities  of  acorns,  which 
are  the  principal  food  of  all  the  wild  Indians;  it  is  their  bread-fruit  tree.  At 
a  village  of  a  few  huts  which  we  came  upon  there  was  a  large  supplv  ol 
these  acorns:  eight  or  ten  cribs  of  wicker-work  containing  about  twent\ 
bushels  each.  The  sweetest  and  best  acorns,  somewhat  resembling  Itahan 
chestnuts  in  taste,  are  obtained  from  a  large  tree  belonging  to  the  division 
of  white  oaks,  distinguished  by  the  length  of  its  acorn,  which  is  commonly 
an  inch  and  a  half  and  sometimes  two  inches.  This  long  acorn  characterize^ 
the  tree,  wliich  is  a  new  species  and  is  accordingly  specified  by  Dr,  Toncv 
as  .^//r/ri/s  /oM(r/<r/af/(ia  (Torr.  and  Frem.)— long-acorn  oak.     This  tree  is 


i  I 


R&MONT. 

pass,  120°  15' 20", 
^  we   climbed  the 
were  on  the  crest 
clear,  and  the  tern- 
ly  it  showed  appar- 
emigrant  road  now 
leads  from  the  pass 
ly,  I  turned  to  the 
;;rass  was  fresh  and 
in  and  entered  now- 
Even  if  the  snow 
;  vallc}',  where  the 
ring. 

nd;  gaining  a  broad 
a  noble  pine  forest 
imon  size.  The  tall 
;  filtered,  fliekeriii'i 
dim  religions  liuht 
;r  the  other,  as  \\c 
is  are  covered  with 


ir  diminished  heads 
edar  (  Thuya  o-j nun- 
Pi  iius  Laiiibcrtiaiii 
;  cone-bearing  tribes 
or  eighteen  inches 
noticed  large  heaps 

3urs  and  descended 

tr  as  we  went  down. 

disappear,  and  \aii- 

:ik,  became  the  pic- 

ies  of  acorns,  which 

read-fruit  tree.    Al 

s  a  large  supply  of 

ining  about  twenl\ 

resembling  Italian 

nnc  to  the  divisimi 

which  is  common!} 

acorn  characteri/.c^ 

hed  by  Dr.  Torn} 

oak.     This  tree  is 


l^m  IM 


i    .  I  :': 


>a !'  4 


'■\:i  \:M 


1 

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THIRD  EXPEDITION— CAPTAIN  CLUTTER. 


441 


very  nbundant  and  generally  forms  the  groves  on  the  bottom-lands  of  the 
streams;  standing  apart  with  a  green  undergrowth  of  grass  which  gives  the 
appearance  of  cultivated  parks.  It  is  a  noble  forest  tree,  sixty  to  eighty 
feet  hifh  with  a  summit  of  wide-spreading  branches,  and  frequently  attains  a 
diameter  of  six  feet;  the  largest  that  we  measured  reached  eleven  feet. 
The  evergreen  oaks  generally  have  a  low  growth  with  long  branches  and 
spreading  tor"- 

At  our  encampment  on  the  evening  of  the  8th,  on  a  stream  which  I 
named  Hamilton's  Creek,  we  had  come  down  to  an  elevation  of  500  feet 
above  the  sea.  The  temperature  at  sunset  was  48°,  the  sky  clear,  the 
weather  calm  and  deligntful,  and  the  vegetation  that  of  early  spring.  We 
were  still  upon  the  foot-hills  of  the  mountains,  where  the  soil  is  sheltered  by 
woods  and  where  rain  falls  much  more  frequently  than  in  the  open  Sacra- 
mento Valley  nc.r  Lhe  vi<lge  of  which  we  then  were.  I  have  been  in  copious 
cuntinuous  raii:.s  of  ei^  '  ?n  or  twenty  hours'  duration,  in  the  oak  region  of 
the  mountain,  v/hen  acne  fell  in  the  valley  below.  Innumerable  small 
streams  have  their  rise  through  these  foot-hills,  which  often  fail  to  reach  the 
river  of  the  valley,  but  are  absorbed  in  its  light  soil;  the  large  streams 
coming  from  the  upper  part  of  the  mountain  make  valleys  of  their  own  of 
tortile  soil,  covered  with  luxuriant  grass  and  interspersed  with  groves. 

The  oak  belt  of  the  mountain  is  the  favorite  range  of  the  Indians.  I 
found  many  small  villages  scattered  through  it.  They  select  places  near 
the  streams  where  there  are  large  boulders  of  granite  rock,  that  show 
over\\vhere  holes  which  they  had  used  for  mortars  in  which  to  pound  the 
.uorns.  Tiiese  are  always  pretty  spots.  The  clean,  smooth  granite  rocks 
standing  out  from  the  green  of  ilic  fresh  grass  over  which  the  groat  oaks 
throw  their  shade,  and  the  clear  i  unnirg  water  are  pleasant  to  eye  and  ear. 

After  the  rough  passage  ar.a  scar.ty  food  of  the  Basin  these  lovely  spots 
with  the  delightful  spring  ^>'e;»t'a?i',  fresh  grass  and  flowers,  and  running 
water,  together  with  the  abunJant  gann;,  tempted  us  to  make  early  camps; 
sothat  \i-e  were  about  four  da^?  ii.  cop-ing  down  to  the  valley. 

Travelling  in  this  way  slowly  lUong,  taking  the  usual  astronomical  obser- 
vations and  notes  of  the  country,  we  reached  on  the  9th  of  December  the 
Grimes  Rancho  on  what  was  then  still  known  as  Rio  de  los  Americatws — 
the  American  Fork,  near  Sutter's  Fort. 

Captain  Sutter  received  me  with  the  same  friendly  hospitality  which  had 
Ken  so  delightful  to  us  the  year  before.  I  found  that  our  pre\ious  visit 
■ud  created  some  exeitemc  .  imong  the  Mexican  authorities.  But  to  their 
'"'qi'.irics  he  had  explained  -r.r.  '  had  been  engaged  in  a  geographical  survey 
"itho  interior  and  had  been  dii  ■  on  to  force  my  way  through  the  snow  of  the 
mountains  simply  to  obtain  a  refuge  and  food  where  I  knew  it  could  be  had 
at  his  plac' ,  ^vhich  was  by  common  report  known  to  me. 


m 


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■i' 

442 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


Being  ourselves  already  recruited  by  the  easy  descent  into  the  valley 
I  did  not  need  to  delay  long  here.  A  few  days  sufficed  to  purchase  sdiiu- 
animals  and  a  small  drove  of  cattle,  with  other  needed  supplies. 

Leaving  the  upper  settlements  of  Nctj  Helvetia^  as  the  Sutter  settlement 
was  called,  on  the  14th  of  December,  I  started  to  find  my  party  whieh  1  had 
left  in  charge  of  Talbot  when  we  had  separated  in  the  Basin  on  Walker 
Lake.  Passing  through  the  groves  of  oak  which  border  the  American  Fdik, 
we  directed  our  route  in  a  southeasterly  course  towards  the  Cosumne  River. 

The  Cosumne  Indians,  who  have  left  their  name  on  this  river,  and  which 
I  had  preser\ed  on  my  map  t)f  the  countr\-,  have  been  dri\en  awav  from  it 
within  a  few  years  and  dispersed  among  other  tribes;  and  several  farms  df 
some  leagues  in  extent  had  already  '■>een  commenced  on  the  lower  part  nt 
the  stream.     At  one  of  these  we  er.    1  about   eight  miles  abo\e  the 

junction  of  the  Cosumne  with  the  Moi  ine'  River,  vviiieli  .1  lew  miles 

below  enters  a  deep  slough  in  the  tide-water  of  the  San  Joaquin  della. 

Our  way  now  lay  over  the  well-remembered  plains  of  the  San  Joaquin 
valley,  the  direction  of  our  route  inclining  towards  the  mountains.  Wo 
crossed  wooded  slougiis,  with  ponds  of  deep  water,  which  nearer  the  foot- 
hills are  running  streams  with  large  bottoms  of  fertile  land  ;  the  greater 
part  of  our  way  being  through  evergreen,  and  other  oaks.  The  rain\'  season, 
which  commonl}-  begins  with  November,  had  not  yet  commenced,  and  the 
streams  were  at  the  low  stage  usual  to  the  dry  season  and  easil}'  forded. 
The  Mokelumn6  where  we  crossed  it  is  about  sixty  yards  wide  ;  the  bn)ad 
alluvial  bottoms  were  here  about  five  hundred  yards  wide.  Leaving  this 
river  on  the  morning  of  the  i6th,  we  travelled  about  twenty  miles  through 
open  woods  of  white  oak,  crossing  in  the  way  several  stream-beds,  amoni; 
them  the  Calaveras  Creek.  These  have  abundant  water  with  good  land 
nearer  the  hills;  and  the  Calaveras  makes  some  remarkably  handsome 
bottoms. 

Issuing  from  the  woods  we  rode  about  sixteen  miles  over  open  pranie 
partly  covered  with  bunch-grass,  the  timber  reappearing  on  the  rolling  hills 
of  the  river  Stanislaui  in  the  usual  belt  of  evergreen  oaks.  The  level 
valley  was  about  forty  feet  below  the  upland,  and  the  stream  seventy  yards 
broad,  with  the  usual  fertile  bottom-land  which  was  covered  with  green  gras.- 
among  large  oaks.  We  encamped  in  one  of  these  bottoms,  in  a  grove  of  the 
large  white  oaks  previously  mentioned. 

The  man}'  varieties  of  deciduous  and  evergreen  oaks  which  predominate 
throughout  the  valle3-s  and  lower  hills  of  the  mountains  afford  large  quan- 
tities of  acorns.  Their  great  abundance  in  the  midst  of  fine  pasture-land 
must  make  them  an  important  element  in  the  farming  economy  of  the  country. 

The  day  had  been  \crv  warm.  At  sunset  the  temperature  was  55"  :iiiil 
the  weather  clear  and  calm. 


MOA'T. 


(:?r 


into  the  valley 
'  purchase  some 
lies. 

iiitter  settlement 
irty  which  1  had 
asin  on  Walker 
American  Fork. 
Cosumne  River, 
river,  and  which 
en  away  from  it 
several  farms  (if 
he  lower  part  uj 
miles  above  the 
in-ii  .1  lew  miles 
quin  della. 
the  San  Joaquin 
mountains.  We 
nearer  the  foot- 
nd  ;  the  <;reatcr 
rhe  rainy  season, 
menced,  and  the 
nd  easily  forded. 
wide  ;  the  broad 
Leaving  this 
:y  miles  throutrli 
am-beds,  anion;,' 
with  good  land 

ably  handsome 

iver  open  prairie 

the  rolling  hills 

iks.     The  level 

m  se\ enty  }ards 

with  green  gras> 

n  a  grove  of  the 


f-^X 


MEDICINE   MAN. 


u 


iiim 


\:y:% 


v.u 


]m 


m  i-il 


l:  :J! 


Ift 


n\   i 


i"i^L':l: 


t';:       'I 


;s  i 


P 


■  (f! 


ich  predominate 
ord  large  quan- 
ine  pasture-land 
y  of  the  country, 
ure  was  c;t;"and 


Mrp  Viiir^- 


''*■  ■    !( 


\U 


m  A 


m 


!!  .It' 


u 

t\ 

dj 

3? 

9 

ft 

'H' 

if 

¥ 

j; 

*i 

■^ 

W 

11    '- 

THIRD  EXPEDITION— SOMETHING  ABOUT  BUCKING  HORSES.  443 


At  sunrise  next  morning  the  thermometer  was  at  22"  with  a  Hght  wind 
from  the  Sierra  N.  75°  E.  and  a  clear  pure  sk}',  against  which  the  bkie 
line  of  the  mountains  showed  clearly  marked.  The  wa}"  for  about  three 
miles  was  through  woods  of  evergreen  and  other  oaks  with  some  shrub- 
bery intermingled.  Among  this  was  a  lupine  of  extraordinary  size,  not 
vet  in  bloom.  Emerging  from  the  woods  we  travelled  in  a  southeasterly 
direction,  over  a  prairie  of  rolling  land,  the  ground  becoming  more  broken 
as  we  approached  the  Tuolumne  Ri\er,  one  of  the  finest  tributaries  to  the 
San  Joaquin. 

The  hills  were  generally  covered  with  a  species  of  geranium  {erodiiim 
(kuiariiini ),  in  the  language  of  the  country  alfalferia^  a  valuable  plant  for 
stock  and  considered  very  nutritious.  With  this  was  frequently  interspersed 
s^'ood  and  green  bunch-grass,  and  a  plant  commonl}'  called  htir-clover.  This 
plant,  which  in  some  places  is  very  abundant,  bears  a  spirally  twisted  pod, 
tilled  with  seeds  that  remain  on  the  ground  during  the  dry  season,  well  pre- 
served. This  affords  good  food  for  the  cattle  until  with  the  spring  rains 
new  grass  comes  up. 

We  started  a  band  of  wild  horses  on  approaching  the  river  and  the 
Indians  ran  off  from  a  village  on  the  bank;  the  men  lurking  round  to 
observe  us. 

The  trail  led  sidling  down  the  steep  face  of  the  hill  to  the  river-bottom. 
The  horse  I  was  riding,  one  of  those  gotten  at  Sutter's,  had  been  reclaimed 
from  the  wild  herds,  and  seeing  this  wild  herd  scouring  off  he  remembered 
his  own  free  days  and  in  mid-trail  set  himself  to  bucking,  in  the  way  a 
California  horse — wild  or  tame — knows  how  to  do  exceptionally.  A  wild 
horse  broken  to  the  saddle  never  forgets,  and  takes  advantage  of  every 
chance  he  has  to  rid  himself  of  his  rider.  If  a  girth  breaks  or  a  saddle 
turns  he  knows  it.  A  rifle  across  the  saddle  and  Indians  to  be  watched  and 
a  bucking  horse  on  a  steep  hill-side  make  a  complicated  situation,  but  we 
;,'ot  to  the  bottom  without  parting  company  and  my  horse  seemed  only 
pleased  by  the  excitement. 

I  give  place  to  a  recollection  of  another  bucking  horse  which  illustrates 
well  the  capacity  in  that  way  of  the  Californian  horse  of  the  civilized  breed 
and  the  capacity  of  the  Californian  to  sit  him.  After  the  capitulation  of 
Couenga  I  was  riding  into  Los  Angeles  at  the  head  of  the  battalion  and  was 
met  by  Don  Francisco  de  la  Guerra  and  other  officers  of  the  Californian 
force,  who  brought  with  them  for  me  two  fine  horses,  one  a  gray,  the  other 
^palomino  or  tan-colored  cream;  both  uncommonly  large  for  Californian 
horses  and  just  the  size  for  a  saddle-horse.  Before  changing  my  saddle  I 
took  a  look  at  the  two,  and  not  liking  the  eyes  of  the  gray  I  had  Jacob  put 
'he  saddle  on  the  palomino.     My  friend  Don  Pedro  Carillo,  a  Californian, 


f  -3 


II   I 


HH 


I'.'^od  at  Harvard — and  who  had  taken  sides  with  me  and  was 


imc 


i-iiillii 


444 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE—JOILY  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


'  \\ 


ill    I      r 


•J 


of  my  aides — took  the  gray.  Of  course,  like  all  Californians,  Don  Pedro  was 
a  splendid  horseman.  He  sprang  lightly  into  the  saddle,  which  was  that  of 
the  country,  with  the  usual  inochila  or  large,  stiff,  leather  covcriii"-  to  the 
saddle.  But  his  right  foot  had  not  reached  the  stirrup  when  the  irrav 
commenced.  He  bucked  from  the  start,  going  around  in  a  circle  aboiit 
tliirty  yards  across,  bucking  right  along  and  with  so  much  force  that  he 
jerked  Don  Pedro's  sword  from  its  scabbard,  the  pistols  from  the  holsters 
and  the  viocliilas  from  between  him  and  the  saddle.  Ever}-bod\-  applauded 
his  horsemanshif).  Francisco  de  la  Guerra  cried  out  "  Todavia  es  Call- 
fornio!''''     ("He  is  a  Californian  still,") 

Californians  generally  were  handsome,  but  even  among  them  Don  Pedro 
was  a  tine-looking  man.  He  is  yet  living  at  Los  Angeles,  and  we  remain 
friends. 

We  encamped  on  the  Tuolumne  on  bottom-land,  open-wooded  with  lar^e 
white  oaks  of  the  new  species;  and  excellent  grass  furnished  good  food  for 
the  animals.  The  usual  order  of  the  camp  was  enlivened  by  the  Indians, 
who  were  soon  reconciled  to  our  presence.  About  their  huts  were  the  usual 
acorn  cribs,  containing  each  some  twenty  or  thirty  bushels.  The  sunset 
temperature  was  pleasant,  at  54°,  and  a  clear  atmosphere.  Multitudes  of 
geese  and  other  wild  fowl  made  the  night  noisy. 

In  the  morning  the  sk}'  was  clear,  with  an  air  from  the  southeast  and  a 
hoar  frost  covering  the  ground  like  a  light  fall  of  snow.  At  sunrise  the 
thermometer  was  at  24°,  a  difference  from  the  preceding  sunset  of  thirty 
degrees.  Our  course  now  inclined  more  towards  the  foot  of  the  mountain 
and  led  over  a  broken  country.  In  about  seventeen  miles  we  reached  the 
Auxumne  River — called  by  the  Mexicans  JShrced — another  large  affluent 
of  the  San  Joaquin,  and  continued  about  six  miles  up  the  stream,  intending 
gradually  to  reach  the  heart  of  the  mountains  at  the  head  of  the  Lake  Fork 
of  the  Tular6. 

We  encamped  on  the  southern  side  of  the  river,  where  broken  hills  made 
a  steep  bluff,  with  a  narrow  bottom.  On  the  northern  side  was  a  low,  undu- 
lating wood  and  prairie  land,  over  which  a  band  of  about  three  hundred  elk 
was  slowly  coming  to  water,  feeding  as  they  approached. 

The  next  day  was  December  the  19th;  the  weather  continuing  clear  and 
pleasant,  very  unlike  the  winter  days  to  which  we  were  accustomed.  We 
continued  our  journey  in  a  southeasterly  direction,  over  a  broken  and  hilly 
country  without  timber,  and  showing  only  scattered  clumps  of  trees  from 
which  we  occasionally  started  deer. 

In  a  few  hours  we  reached  a  beautiful  country  of  undulating  upland, 
openly  wooded  with  oaks,  principally  evergreen,  and  watered  with  small 
streams  which  tojjether  make  the  Makiposas  River.     Continuin<j  along  wa 


iil: 


ONT. 

3on  Pedro  was 
icli  was  that  of 
lovering  to  the 
vhen  tlic  <;iay 
a  circle  about 
I  force  that  he 
)m  the  holsters 
)od}-  applauded 
)davia  cs  Cali- 

lem  Don  Pedro 
and  we  remain 


oded  with  large 
d  good  food  for 
by  the  Indians, 
s  were  the  usual 
Is.  The  sunset 
Multitudes  of 

southeast  and  a 

At  sunrise  the 

sunset  of  thirty 

of  the  mountain 

we  reached  the 

er  large  affluent 

tream,  intcndini; 

the  Lake  Fork 

roken  hills  made 
^vas  a  low,  undu- 
irce  hundred  elk 

inuing  clear  and 
customed.  ^^  c 
Droken  and  hilly 
3S  of  trees  from 

dulating  upland, 
cred  with  small 
tinuing  along  we 


f:") 


'^h 


m 


u 

M 

b) 

W 

o 

Q 


b. 
O 

u 
o 

b. 


■  vi 


m 


II 


It 


'» 


THIRD  EXrUDrriON— FIGHT  WITH  INDIA, V  llORSETIIIEVES.    445 


came  upon  broad  and  deeply-worn  trails  whieh  had  been  freshly  travelled 
,iv  iarj^a'  bands  of  horses,  apparently  eominjf  from  the  San  Joaquin  valley. 
But  wo  had  heard  enoiij^di  to  know  that  they  came  from  the  settlements  on 
the  coast.  These  and  indieations  from  horse-bones  dragj^ed  about  by  wild 
animals,  wolves  or  bears,  warned  us  that  we  were  approaching^  villaj,a's  ol 
Ilursc-thief  Indians,  a  party  of  whom  had  just  returned  from  a  successful 
raid.  Immediately  upon  strikinj,'  their  trail  I  sent  forward  four  of  my  best 
men,  Dick  Owens  and  Maxwell  and  two  Delawarcs.  I  followed  after  with 
the  rest  of  the  party,  but  soon  the  Indian  sij^ns  became  so  thick,  trail  after 
trail  coming  into  that  on  which  we  were  travelling,  that  I  saw  we  were  ;.;i  1- 
tin<(  into  a  stronghold  of  the  Ilorse-thieves,  and  we  rode  rapidly  forwaiil. 
A'tcr  a  few  miles  of  sharp  riding,  a  small  stream  running  over  a  slaty  beil, 
w;fi'  Jumps  of  oaks  around,  tempted  me  into  making  an  early  halt.  Good 
ijniss  was  abundant,  and  this  spot  not  long  since  had  been  the  camping- 
ground  of  a  village,  and  was  evidentl}'  one  of  their  favorite  places,  as  the 
ground  was  whitened  with  the  bones  of  many  horses.  We  had  barely 
thrown  off  our  saddles  and  not  yet  turned  the  horses  loose,  when  the  inter- 
mittent report  of  rifles,  in  the  way  one  does  not  mistake,  and  the  barking  of 
many  dogs  and  sounds  of  shouting  faintly  reaching  us,  made  us  quickly 
saddle  up  again  and  ride  to  the  sounds  at  speed. 

Four  men  were  left  to  guard  the  camp.  In  a  short  half  mile  we  fouuil 
ourselves  suddenly  in  front  of  a  large  Indian  village  not  two  hundred  yards 
away.  More  than  a  hundred  Indians  were  advancing  on  each  side  of  a 
small  hill,  on  the  top  of  which  were  our  men  where  a  clump  of  oaks  and 
rocks  amidst  bushes  made  a  good  defence.  My  men  had  been  discovered 
by  the  Indians  and  suddenly  found  themselves  in  the  midst  of  them,  but 
jumped  from  their  horses  and  took  to  the  rocks,  which  happened  to 
be  a  strong  place  to  fight  from.  The  Indians  were  shouting  at  them  in 
Spanish,  and  the  women  and  children  at  the  village  howling  at  their  best. 
Our  men  were  only  endeavoring  to  stand  them  off  until  we  should  get  u;i, 
as  they  knew  we  would  not  be  far  behind.  The  Indians  had  nearh-  sur- 
rounded the  knoll  and  were  about  getting  possession  of  the  horses  when  we 
came  into  view.  Our  shout  as  we  charged  up  the  hill  was  answered  by  the 
yell  of  the  Delawares  as  they  dashed  down  the  hill  to  recover  their  animals, 
and  the  report  of  Owens'  and  Maxwell's  rifles.  Owens  had  singled  out 
the  foremost  Indian,  who  did  not  go  any  farther  up  the  hill,  and  the  others 
drew  a  little  back  towards  the  village.  Anxious  for  the  safety  of  the  men 
left  behind,  I  profited  by  the  surprise  to  withdraw  towards  our  camp; 
cheeking  the  Indians  by  an  occasional  rifle  shot,  with  the  range  of  which 
they  seemed  to  think  they  were  acquainted.  They  followed  us  to  the  camp 
and  scattered  around  among  the  rocks  and  trees,  whence  they  harangued 
us,  bestowing  on  us  liberally  all  the  epithets  they  could  use,  telling  us  what 


^1 


i\i 


mmm 


!■  •    .  f 


\i 


1"      il: 


'    'i 


il!  ,: 


,lH 


W 


ii! 


:    ;!    ll; 


446 


.\//:a/o/a:s  of  my  liih—joux  cuari.es  frI':mo.\t. 


tlicv  would  du  with  us.  Man}-  ot  them  had  been  Mission  Indians  and  spoki.' 
iSpanish  well.  "  Wait,"  they  said.  "  Espenitc  Carrajos — wait  until  morn- 
ing. There  are  two  bijf  villages  up  in  the  mountains  elose  by;  wl'  h;i\f 
sent  for  the  Chief  ;  he'll  be  down  before  morning  with  all  the  poipk'. 
and  you  will  all  die.  None  t)f  you  shall  go  back  ;  we  will  have  all  voiir 
horses." 

I  divideil  the  camp  into  two  watches,  puttin,<f  myself  into  the  last  one. 
As  soon  as  it  was  fully  dark  each  man  of  the  guard  crept  to  his  post.  \\c 
heard  the  women  and  children  retreating  towards  the  mountains.  J^cfoiv 
midnight  the  Indians  had  generally  withdrawn,  only  now  and  then  a  ^iioui 
to  show  us  that  they  were  on  hand  and  attending  to  u:-..  Otherwise  nothiii" 
occurred  to  break  the  stillness  of  the  night,  but  a  shot  from  one  of  the  Del- 
awares  tired  at  a  wolf  as  it  jumped  over  a  log.  In  our  experienced  cam;i 
no  one  moved,  but  Delaware  Charley  crept  up  to  me  to  let  me  know  what 
had  caused  the  shot  of  the  Ueiaware  who,  with  hostile  Indians  around, 
instinctively  fired  at  a  moving  thing  that  might  have  been  an  Indian  crawl- 
ing towards  our  horses. 

The  liorse-thief  tribes  have  been  "Christian  Indians"  of  the  Mission>, 
and  when  these  were  broken  up  b}'  Mexico  the  Indians  took  to  the  iiioi.n- 
tains.  Knowing  well  the  coast  country,  and  the  exact  situation  of  the  Mi^ 
sions  where  they  had  lived  and  the  ranchos  and  the  range  which  tlKii 
horses  were  accustomed  to,  they  found  it  easy  to  drive  off  the  animals  into 
the  mountains,  partly  to  use  as  saddle-horses,  but  principally  to  eat. 

In  time  they  became  a  scourge  to  the  settlements.     The  great  ranges 
which  belonged  with  the  ranchos  not  only  supported  many  thousands  of  cat- 
tle, but  also  many  hundreds  of  horses  which  were  divided  into  bands,  '•  mano- 
das^     The  Indians  were  the  vaqueros  or  herdsmen  who  attended  to  both; 
herding  the  cattle,  and  breaking  in  the  colts.     The  Californians  had  great 
pleasure  in  their  horses.     On  some  ranchos  there  would  be  several  hun- 
dred saddle-horses,  in  bands  of  eighty  or  a  hundred  of  different  colors;  Ahi- 
zaii  (sorrel)  always  the  favorite  color.     Deprived  of  their  regular  food, 
the  Indians  took  to  the  mountains  and  began  to  drive  off  horses.     Cattle 
would  not  drive  fast  enough  to  avoid  the  first  pursuit.     In  their  early  con- 
dition thcv  had  learned  to  eat  wild  horse-meat  and  liked  it.     Familiarity 
with  the  whites  and  tlie  success  of  their  predatory  excursions  made  the 
Ilorse-thief  Indians  far  more  daring  and  braver  than  those  who  remained  in 
fixed  villages,  whether  in  the  mountains  or  on  the  vallc}"  streams  which  ea'- 
ried  the  name  of  the  different  tribes — the  Cosumne,  Mokelunine,  Towaluir.ne, 
and  Auxumnc"  Rivers.     Probably  all  the  streams  if  their  Indian  names  could 
have  been  known,  received  their  names  from  the  small  tribes  who  liveil 
upon  them. 

The  Indians  of  this  country  tiuding  their  food  where  they  lived  weiv 


liripirlS; 


10  XT 

.lians  and  spoke 

vait  until  niDrn- 

e  by;  \vc  have 

all  the  people, 

11  have  all  your 

ito  the  last  one. 
)  his  post.  We 
iiitains,  Before 
ncl  the'n  a  shout 
herwisc  nothins,' 
one  of  the  Del- 
perienccd  camp 
:  nie  know  what 
Indians  around, 
an  Indian  crawl- 

of  the  Missi()n>, 
[)k  to  the  moiin- 
iition  ot  the  Mi-'- 
nge  which  their 
the  animals  intu 
V  to  eat. 
re  ,i^reat  ran<:es 
lousands  of  eat- 
o  iiiinds, "  mam\- 
ttended  to  both: 
rnians  had  great 
be  several  hun- 
ent  colors;  Ah^- 
X   rejjular  loml. 
horses.     Cattle 
their  early  con- 
it.     Familiarity 
rsions  made  the 
who  remained  in 
•earns  which  car- 
me,  TowaUur.ne, 
ian  names  could 
ribes  who  lived 

thev  lived  wcix- 


14 


■li 
y. 

'i 


,.;  ,  ')■: 


Bi,f;s 


\\>h   i   :i: 


%m 


■11 


11' !) 


i»  I 


THIRD  EXPEDITION— MAXWELL  KILLS  AN  INDIAN. 


447 


not  nomadic.  They  were  not  disposed  to  range,  and  seemed  unaccustomed 
to  intrude  upon  the  grounds  which  usage  probably  made  the  possession  of 
other  tribes.  Their  huts  were  easily  built  and  permanent  ;  the  climate  was 
tine,  tiicy  lived  mostly  in  the  open  air,  and  when  they  died  they  were  not 
put  in  the  ground  but  up  in  the  branches  of  the  trees.  The  climate  is  such 
thiu  a  dead  animal  left  on  the  ground  simply  dries  up  and  only  the  e\e 
ojves  knowledge  of  its  presence. 

The  springs  and  streams  hereabout  were  waters  of  the  Chauchilcs  and 
Mariposas  Rivers  and  the  Indians  of  this  village  belonged  to  the  Chaiichiles 
tribe. 

On  some  of  the  higher  ridges  were  fields  of  a  poppy  which,  fluttering 
and  trenuilous  on  its  long  thin  stalk,  suggests  the  idea  of  a  butterfly  settling 
on  a  flower,  and  gives  to  this  flower  its  name  of  Mariposas — butterflies — 
and  tlie  flower  extends  its  name  to  the  stream. 

The  encounter  I  had  here  with  the  Indians  was  a  premonitory  symptom 
of  the  contests  I  afterward  had  with  the  State  and  Federal  governments 
when  the  place  became  my  property. 

We  were  only  sixteen  men.  Keeping  in  the  oak  belt  on  the  course  I  was 
pursuing  would  bring  us  farther  among  these  villages,  and  I  would  surely 
have  lost  the  cattle  and  perhaps  some  men  and  horses  in  attacks  from 
these  Indians.  In  tli  morning  therefore  I  turned  down  one  of  the  streams 
and  quickly  gained  the  open  country  of  the  lower  hills.  We  had  gained 
but  a  iittle  distance  on  this  course  when  an  Indian  was  discovered  riding  at 
speed  towards  the  plain,  where  the  upper  S-in  Joaquin  reaches  the  valley. 
MawvLJl  was  fihead  and  not  far  from  the  Indian  when  he  came  into  sight, 
and  knowing  at  once  that  his  object  was  to  bring  Indians  from  the  ri\  er  to 
intercept  us,  rode  for  him.  The  Indian  was  well  mounted  but  Maxwell  bet- 
ter. With  Godey  and  two  of  the  Delawares  I  followed.  It  was  open  ground 
over  rolling  hills  and  we  were  all  in  sight  of  each  other,  but  before  we  could 
reach  them  a  duel  was  taking  place  between  Maxwell  ;'nd  the  Indian — 
h  ith  on  foot,  Maxwell  with  pistols,  the  Indian  with  arrows.  They  were  only 
tc;i(ir  twehe  paces  apart.  I  saw  the  Indian  fall  as  we  rode  up.  I  would 
have  taken  him  prisoner  and  saved  his  life,  but  was  too  late.  The  Dela- 
wares captured  his  horse. 

Riding  along  th^'  open  ground  towards  the  valley  after  a  mile  or  two  we 
diseovcrcd  ten  Indians  ahead  going  in  the  same  direction.  They  saw  us  as 
\vell,  hut  took  wu  uoiice  and  did  not  quicken  their  gait.  When  we  were 
"bout  overtaking  them  they  quietlv  turned  into  a  close  thicket  which  cov- 
"'I'd  about  I'ight  acres.  We  gaNc  iho  tiiicket  a  wide  berth;  for  ten  Iiiu'ians 
i!isui!;  a  place  were  more  dangerous  than  so  iv.iiny  gray  bear. 


J  '-■■  {.  ■'■  • .  \ 


ri 


448 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRi:MONT. 


i  ■  H  '-i  ^ 


Ml  1: 


'"■   lii, 


n 


I  !'^ 


MM' 


'     i 


Turning  now  to  the  southward  we  continued  on  our  way,  keeping  a  few 
men  towards  the  mountain  to  give  early  notice  of  the  approach  of  anv  Ind- 
ians. At  evening  we  encamped  in  a  spring  hollow  leading  to  the  upper 
San  Joaquin  where  it  makes  its  way  among  the  hills  towards  the  open  valley 
We  were  at  an  elevation  of  looo  feet  above  the  sea;  in  latitude  b\-  observa- 
tion 37°  07'  47".  The  day  had  been  mild  with  a  faint  sun  and  cloudy 
weather;  and  at  sunset  there  were  some  light  clouds  in  the  sky  and  a  north- 
easterly wind,  and  a  sunset  temperature  of  45°;  probably  rendered  lower 
than  usual  by  the  air  from  the  mountains,  as  the  foot-hills  ha\e  generally  a 
warmer  temperature  than  the  lower  valley. 

During  the  day  elk  were  numerous  along  our  route,  making  at  one  time 
a  broken  bind  several  miles  in  length.  On  the  21st  the  thermometer  was 
at  sunrise  33°;  the  sky  slightly  clouded,  and  in  the  course  of  the  morning 
clouds  gathered  heavy  in  the  southwest.  Our  route  lay  in  a  southeasterly 
direction,  still  toward  the  upper  Joaquin,  crossing  among  rolling  hills,  a 
large  stream,  and  several  sandy  beds  and  affluents  to  the  main  ••iver.  On  the 
trees  along  these  streams  as  well  as  on  the  hills  I  noticed  mosses.  In  the 
afternoon  we  reached  the  upper  San  Joaquin  River,  which  was  here  about 
seventy  yards  wide  and  much  too  deep  to  be  forded;  a  little  way  below  we 
succeeded  in  crossing  at  a  rapid  made  by  a  bed  of  rock  below  which,  for 
several  miles,  the  stream  appeared  deep  and  not  fordable.  We  followed 
down  it  for  six  or  eight  miles  and  encamped  on  its  banks  on  the  verge  01  the 
valley  plain. 

At  evening  rain  began  to  fall,  and  with  this  the  spring  properly  com- 
menced. In  November  there  had  been  a  little  rain,  but  not  sufficient  to 
revive  vegetation. 

December  2 2d.  Temperature  at  sunrise  wi.s  39°.  During  the  night  there 
had  been  heavy  rain,  with  high  wind,  and  there  was  a  thick  fog  this  morn- 
ing, but  it  began  to  go  off  at  8  o'clock  when  the  sun  broke  through.  We 
crossed  an  (jpcn  plain  still  in  a  southeasterly  direction,  reaching  in  about 
twenty  miles  the  Tulare  Lake  River.  This  is  the  Lake  Fork;  one  of  the 
largest  and  handsomest  streams  in  the  valley,  being  about  one  hundred  yartls 
broad  and  having  perhaps  a  larger  bod}'  of  fertile  lands  than  any  one  of  the 
others.  It  is  called  by  the  Mexicans  the  Rio  cie  los  Reyes.  The  broad 
alluvial  bottoms  were  well  wooded  with  several  species  of  oaks.  This  is  the 
principal  affluent  of  the  Tulare  Lake,  a  strip  of  water  which  receives  all  the 
rivers  in  the  upper  or  southern  end  of  the  valley.  In  time  of  high  water  i^ 
di-charges  into  the  San  Joaquin  River,  making  a  continuous  water-li.K 
through  the  whole  extent  of  the  valley.  The  lake  itself  is  surrounded  hy 
lowlands  and  its  immediate  shores  are  rankly  overgrown  with  bulrushes. 

According  to  the  appointment  made  when  I  left  my  party  imder  Talbot,  it 
was  a  valley  upon  the  Lake  Fork  to  which  the  guide  W^'dker  was  to  cm- 


I   Ji; 


crmometer  was 


THIRD  EXEDITION.— OWENS  DISCOVERED  GOLD. 


449 


duct  him.  Here  I  expected  to  find  him.  The  men,  as  well  as  the  cattle  and 
horses,  needed  rest;  a  strict  guard  had  been  necessary,  as  in  the  morning 
Indian  sign  was  always  found  around  our  camp.  The  position  was  good 
in  the  open  ground  among  the  oaks,  there  being  no  brush  for  cover  to  the 
Indians,  and  grass  and  water  were  abundant.  Accordingly  we  remained  here 
a  day  and  on  the  24th  entered  the  mountain,  keeping  as  nearly  as  possible 
the  valley  ground  of  the  river.  While  in  the  oak  belt  the  travelling  was 
easy  and  pleasant,  but  necessarily  slow  in  the  search  for  our  people,  especially' 
here  in  this  delightful  part  of  the  mountain  where  they  should  be  found. 
Several  days  were  spent  here.  At  the  elevation  of  3500  feet  the  ridges 
were  covered  with  oaks  and  pines  intermixed,  and  the  bottom-lands  with 
oaks,  cottonwoods,  and  sycamores.  Continuing  upward  I  found  the  general 
character  of  the  mountain  similar  to  what  it  was  in  the  more  northern  part, 
but  rougher,  and  the  timber  perhaps  less  heavy  and  more  open,  but  some 
trees  extremely  large.  I  began  to  be  surprised  at  not  finding  my  party,  but 
continued  on,  thinking  that  perhaps  in  some  spread  of  the  river  branches  I 
was  to  find  a  beautiful  mountain  valley.  Small  varieties  of  evergreen  oaks 
were  found  a!:  the  observed  height  of  9840  feet  above  the  sea,  at  which  ele- 
vation finus  Lambertiaiu  and  other  varieties  of  pine,  fir,  and  cypress  were 
large  and  lofty  trees.  The  distinctive  oak  belt  was  left  at  about  5000  feet 
above  the  sea. 

Indians  were  still  around  the  camp  at  night  and  the  necessity  of  keeping 
the  animals  closely  guarded  prevented  them  from  getting  food  enough 
and,  joined  with  the  rough  and  difficult  country,  weakened  them.  For  this, 
I  usually  ni.'ule  the  day's  journey  short.  I  found  the  mountain  extremely 
rocky  in  the  upper  parts,  the  streams  breaking  through  caflons,  but  wooded 
up  to  the  granite  ridges  which  compose  its  rocky  eminences.  We  forced 
our  way  up  among  the  head  springs  of  the  river  and  finally  stood  upon  the 
flat  ridiie  of  naked  granite  which  made  the  division  of  the  waters  and  was 
11,000  feet  above  the  sea.  The  day  was  sunny  and  the  air  warm  enough  to 
be  not  only  very  agreeable,  but  with  exercise  exhilarating,  even  at  that 
height.  Lying  immediately  below,  perhaps  1000  feet,  at  the  foot  of  a 
precipitous  descent  was  a  small  lake,  which  I  judged  to  be  one  of  the  sources 
of  the  main  San  Joaquin.  I  had  grown,  by  occasional  pri\ation,  to  look 
upon  water  as  a  jewel  beyond  price,  and  this  was  rendered  e\en  more  beau- 
tiful by  its  rough  setting.  The  <n-eat  value  to  us  of  the  first  necessaries  of 
life  made  a  reason  why  we  so  sel'  om  found  gold  or  siher  or  otlier  minerals. 
Ores  of  iron  and  copper,  and  gold  and  silver,  and  other  minerals  we  found, 
but  did  not  look  for.  A  clear  cold  spring  of  running  water  or  a  good  camp, 
big  game,  or  fossils  imbedded  in  rock,  were  among  the  prized  objects  of  our 
daily  life.  Owens,  after  the  discovery  of  the  gold  in  California,  reminded  me 
that  he  had  once  on  the  American  Fork  noticed  some  little  shining  grains 


Hi 


i  i   :! 


n  ■!;!■«  !l  ! 


45"  aij::./Ou\'s  of  my  lU'E—joh.v  charles  fr^imont. 


i  f  \    ''": 


which  he  could  see  from  his  horse  and  which  afterward  we  decided  was  "old 
but  we  were  not  interested  enough  at  the  time  to  gi\e  it  attention;  and 
Brcckenridge  too  reminded  me  that  he  brought  me  in  his  hand  some  lai<rc 
grains  which  I  carelessly  told  him  were  sulphurets  of  iron.  These  too  wciv 
probably  gold.  As  I  said,  this  bed  of  summit  granite  was  naked.  Here  and 
there  a  pine  or  two,  stunted  and  twisted,  and  worried  out  of  shape  by  the 
Avinds,  and  clamping  itself  to  the  rock.  But  immediately  below  we  encamped 
in  tiie  sheltering  pine  woods  which  now  were  needed,  for  towards  eveninif 
the  weatiier  threatened  change.  The  sky  clouded  over  and  by  nigiitfall  was 
a  uniform  dull  gray,  and  early  in  the  night  the  roar  oi  the  wind  throutrh  the 
pines  lad  at  times  the  sound  of  a  torrent.  And  the  camp  was  gloomv, 
We  had  ridden  hard,  and  toiled  hard,  and  wc  were  all  disappointed  and 
jicrplexcd,  wondering  what  had  become  of  our  people.  During  the  nicht 
the  Indians  succeeded  in  killing  one  of  our  best  mules.  He  had  fed  quietly 
into  one  of  the  little  ravines,  wooded  with  brush  pines,  just  out  of  sight  of 
the  guard  near  by,  and  an  Indian  had  driven  an  arrow  nearly  throii"h  his 
body.  Apparently  he  had  died  without  sound  or  struggle,  just  as  he  was 
about  to  drink  from  the  little  stream. 

The  next  day,  December  31st,  I  made  a  short  camp,  the  cattle  beintr 
tender-footed  and  scarcely  able  to  travel.  To  descend  the  mountain  wc 
chose  a  different  way  from  that  by  which  we  had  come  up,  but  it  was  rockv 
and  rough  everywhere.  The  old  3ear  went  out  and  the  nev/^  year  came  in, 
rough  as  the  country.  Towards  nightfall  the  snow  began  to  come  dt)wn 
thickly,  and  by  morning  all  lay  under  a  heav}'  fall.  The  chasms  through 
which  the  rivers  roared  were  dark  against  the  snow,  and  the  hr  branehes 
were  all  weighed  down  under  their  load.  This  was  the  end  of  the  few 
remaining  cattle.  It  was  impossible  to  drive  them  over  the  treacherous 
ground.  The  snow  continued  falling,  changing  the  appearance  of  the  ground 
and  hiding  slippery  breaks  and  little  rocky  hollows,  where  horse  and  man 
w  ould  get  bad  falls.  Left  to  themselves  cattle  could  easil}-  work  their  way 
to  the  lower  grounds  of  the  mountain  if  not  killed  by  Indians.  We  had 
!.',reat  trouble  in  getting  out  from  the  snow  region.  The  mountain  winter 
h;id  now  set  in,  and  we  had  some  misgivings  as  we  rode  through  the  forest, 
rilcnt  now  without  a  sound  except  where  we  came  within  hearing  of  water 
'.ci'.ring  ainf)ng  rocks  or  muffled  under  snow.  There  were  three  ridges  tn 
surmount,  but  we  succeeded  in  crossing  them,  and  by  sunset  when  the  storm 
fi-ased  we  made  a  safe  camp  between  9000  and  10,000  feet  above  the  sea, 
'i'he  temperature  at  sunset  when  the  sky  had  cleared  was  between  eight 
and  nine  degrees. 

The  next  day  wc  reached  the  oak  region,  where  spring  weather. 'an 
and  sunshine,  were  found  again.  At  an  elevation  of  4500  feet  the  tempera- 
ture at  the  night  encampment  of  the  3d  of  Januar}-  was  38°  at  sunset  and  the 


'ONT. 

jidcd  was  gold, 
attention;  and 
md  some  lar<rc 
These  too  were 
iccd.     Here  and 
of  shape  by  the 
iw  we  encamped 
owards  evcninsr 
by  nightfall  was 
'ind  through  the 
ip  was  gloomy, 
isappointed  and 
•uring;  the  night 
had  fed  quietly 
t  out  of  sight  u[ 
arly  through  his 
;,  just  as  he  was 

the  cattle  being 
he  mountain  we 
but  it  was  rocky 
b\v  year  came  in, 
1  to  come  down 
chasms  through 
the  tir  branches 
end  of  the  few 
the  treacherous 
ice  of  the  ground 
;  horse  and  man 
work  their  way 
idians.     We  hud 
mountain  winter 
rou<rh  the  forest, 
learing  of  water 
three  ridges  to 
when  the  storm 
t  above  the  sea. 
s  between  eight 

lig  weather,  van 
Jeet  the  tempera- 
|at  sunset  and  tlic 


THIRD  EXPEDITION.— IN  THE  SAN  JOAQUIN  VALLEY. 


451 


.^anie  at  sunrise;  the  grass  green  and  growing  freshly  under  the  oaks.  The 
snow  line  at  this  time  reached  down  to  about  6000  feet  above  the  sea.  On 
the  7th  of  January  we  encamped  again  on  the  Lake  Fork  in  the  San  Joaquin 
valley.  Our  camp  was  in  a  grove  of  oaks  at  an  Indian  village,  not  far  fron: 
the  lake.  These  people  recognized  the  horse  of  the  Indian  who  had  been 
kiiicd  among  the  hills  the  day  after  our  encounter  with  the  Ilorse-thief  \  il- 
iaue.  and  which  had  been  captured  by  the  Delawares.  It  appeared  that  this 
Indian  had  belonged  to  their  village  and  they  showed  unfricndl}-  signs.  But 
nothing  took  place  during  the  day  and  at  night  I  had  a  large  oak  at  the  cam]i 
filled.  We  were  unencumbered  and  its  spreading  summit  as  it  fell  made  a 
-utlicicnt  barricade  in  e\ent  of  any  sudden  ahrte. 

^\'c  foimd  the  temperature  much  the  same  as  in  December.  Fogs, 
which  rose  from  the  lake  in  the  morning,  were  dense,  cold,  and  penetrating; 
';  i;t  after  a  few  hours  these  gave  place  to  a  fine  day.  The  face  of  the 
Lduntr}'  had  already  much  improved  by  the  rains  which  had  fallen  while  we 
were  travelling  in  the  mountains.  Several  humble  plants,  among  them  the 
;:olden-ilowered  \iolet  {viola  chr\'santha)  and  eroditini  ciciitaritiiii.,  the  first 
valley  flowers  of  the  spring,  and  which  courted  a  sunny  exposure  and  w^arm 
sandy  soil,  were  already  in  bloom  on  the  southwestern  hill  slopes.  In  the 
foot-hills  of  the  mountains  the  bloom  of  the  flowers  was  earlier.  Descend- 
ing the  valley  we  travelled  among  multitudinous  herds  of  elk.  antelope,  and 
vild  horses.  Several  of  the  latter  which  we  killed  for  food  were  found  to 
be  very  fat.  E}'  the  middle  of  January,  when  we  had  reached  the  Itiwer 
Sanjoaipiin,  the  new  grass  had  covered  the  ground  with  green  amon[if  the 
ipen  timber  wpon  the  rich  river  bottoms,  and  the  spring  vegetation  had 
taken  a  vigorous  start. 

We  had  now  searched  the  San  Joaquin  valley,  up  to  the  head-waters  of 
the  Tulftre  I>ake  Fork,  and  failed  to  find  my  party.  They  were  too  stiong 
to  have  met  with  any  serious  accident  and  m}-  conclusion  was  that  the}'  had 
travelled  slowl}'  in  order  to  give  me  time  to  make  my  round  and  procure 
•supplies;  the  moderate  travel  serving  meanwhile  to  keep  their  animals  in 
L'ood  order,  and  from  the  moment  the}-  would  have  turned  the  point  of  the 
California  Mountain  the  whole  valley  which  they  entered  was  alive  with 
','ame — antelope  and  elk  and  bear  and  wild  horses.  Accounting  in  this 
way  for  their  failure  to  meet  me  I  continued  on  to  Sutter's  Fort,  at  which 
place  I  arrived  on  the  15th  of  the  month,  and  remaining  there  four  days  I 
■iiiiled  on  Sutter's  launch  [or  San  Francisco,  taking  with  me  eight  of  my 
piuty.  From  Captain  Sutter,  who  was  a  Mexican  magistrate,  I  had  obtained 
;i  passport  to  Montere}'  for  nnself  and  my  men.  At  Yerba  Buena,  as  it 
V  as  then  called,  I  spent  a  few  days,  which  Leidesdorff,  our  vice-consul,  and 
'-iiptain  Hinckley  made  very  agreeable  to  me.  With  Captain  Hinckley  I 
went  to  visit  the  quicksiher  mine  at  New  Almaden,  going  by  water   t'> 


I.'  n. 


I}' 


!i:i  :i 


452 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FR&MONT. 


I^:? 


I  m,  1 


Iti  ' ' 


'■  ;  * 


!'   l^^il 


I 


please  the  captain.  We  were  becalmed  on  the  bay  and  made  slow  progress 
failing  in  the  night  to  find  the  entrance  to  the  Alviso  eiiibairaderu  and 
spending  in  consequence  a  chilled  and  dismal  night  in  the  open  boat  tied 
up  to  the  rushes.  When  the  light  came  we  found  without  diiTiculty  the 
etnbarcadero,  and  the  discomforts  of  the  night  were  quickly  forgotten  in  a 
fortifying  breakfast.  As  may  be  supposed,  the  mineral  being  so  rare,  tlii> 
visit  to  the  quicksilver  mine  was  very  interesting.  The  owner,  a  Mexiean 
of  Mexico,  who  was  also,  I  think,  the  discoverer,  received  us  very  agreeabh- 
and  showed  us  over  the  mine  and  gave  us  all  the  specimens  we  were  able 
to  carry  away  from  some  heaps  of  the  vermilion-colored  ore  which  was 
being  taken  out.  At  the  time  of  our  visit  it  could  have  been  purchased  for 
$30,000.  While  at  Yerba  Buena  I  wrote  to  Mrs.  Fremont  the  following 
letter,  which  sums  up  briefly  the  incidents  of  our  journey  so  far,  and  gives 
something  of  the  plans  I  had  in  my  mind  for  the  future: 

"Yerba  In  ena,  January  24,  1846. 
"  I  crossed  the  Rocky  Mountains  on  the  main  Arkansas,  passing  out  at  its 
very  head-water;  explored  the  southern  shore  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake,  and 
visited  one  of  its  islands.     You  know  that  on  every  extant  map,  manuseript 
or  printed,  the  whole  of  the  Great  Basin  is  represented  as  a  sandy  plain, 
barren,  without  water,  and  without  grass.     Tell  your  father  that,  with  y 
volunteer  party  of  fifteen  men,  I  crossed  it  between  the  parallels  of  38°  and 
39°.     Instead  of  a  plain,  I  found  it,  throughout  its  whole  extent,  traversed 
b}"  parallel  ranges  of  lofty  mountains,  their  summits  white  with  snow  (Oc- 
tober); while  below,  the  valleys  had  none.     Instead  of  a  barren  country,  the 
mountains  were  co\'ered  with  grasses  of  the  best  quality,  wooded  with  sev- 
eral varieties  of  trees,  and  containing  more  deer  and  mountain  sheep  than  we 
had  seen  in  any  previous  part  of  our  vo3age.     So  utterly  at  varianee  with 
every  description,  from  authentic  sources,  or  from  rumor  or  report,  it  is  f.iir 
to  consider  this  country  as  hitherto  wholly  unexplored,  and  never  before 
visited  by  a  white  man.     I  met  my  party  at  the  rendezvous,  a  lake  sdutli- 
east  of  the  Pyramid  Lake;  and  again  separated,  sending  them  alonj,' the 
eastern  side  of  the  Great  Sierra,  three  or  four  hundred  miles  in  a  southerly 
direction,  where  they  were  to  cross  into  the  valley  of  the  San  Joaquin,  near 
its  head.     During  all  the  time  that  I  was  not  with  them,  Mr.  Joseph  Walker 
was  their   guide,  Mr.  Talbot  in  charge,  and  Mr.  Kern  the  topographi.:-. 
The  eleventh  day  after  leaving  them  I  reached  Captain  Sutter's,  erossin;; 
the  Sierra  on  the  4th  December,  before  the  snow  had  fallen  there.    Now, 
the  Sierra  is  absolutely  impassable,  and  the  place  of  our  passage  two }  ears 
ago  is  luminous  with  snow.     By  the  route  I  have  explored  I  can  ride  in 
thirty-five  days  from  the  Fontaine  qui  Botiit  River  to  Captain  Sutlers; 
and,  for  wagons,  the  road  is  decidedly  better. 


for<rottcn  in  a 


THIRD  EXPEDITION— LETTER  TO  MRS.  FREMONT. 


453 


"I  sh''Il  make  a  short  journey  up  the  eastern  branch  of  the  Sacramento, 
and  go  from  the  Tlamath  Lake  into  the  Wahlahmath  valley,  through  a 
pass  alluded  to  in  my  report;  in  this  way  making  the  road  into  Oregon  far 
shorter,  and  a  good  road  in  place  of  the  present  very  bad  one  down  the 
Columbia.  When  I  shall  have  made  this  short  exploration,  I  shall  have 
explored  from  beginning  to  end  this  road  to  Oregvn. 

"  I  have  just  returned  with  my  party  of  sixteen  from  an  exploring  jour- 
nev  in  the  Sierra  Nevada,  from  the  neighborhood  of  Sutter's  to  the  heads 
of  the  Lake  Fork.  We  got  among  heavy  snows  on  the  mountain  summits ; 
thev  were  more  rugged  than  I  had  elsewhere  met  them ;  suffered  again  as  in 
our  first  passage;  got  among  the  'Horse-thieves'  (Indians  who  lay  waste 
the  California  frontier),  fought  sceral,  and  fought  our  way  down  into  the 
plain  again  and  back  to  Sutter's.  Tell  your  father  that  I  have  something 
handsome  to  tell  him  of  some  exploits  of  Carson  and  Dick  Owens,  and 
others. 

"  I  am  now  going  on  business  to  see  some  gentlemen  on  the  coast,  and 
will  then  join  my  people,  and  complete  our  survey  in  this  part  of  the  world 
as  rapidly  as  possible.  The  season  is  now  just  arriving  when  vegetation  is 
coming  out  in  all  the  beauty  I  have  often  described  to  you;  and  in  that  part 
of  my  labors  I  shall  gratify  all  my  hopes.  I  find  the  theory  of  our  Great 
Basin  fully  confirmed  in  having  for  its  southern  boundary  ranges  of  lofty 
mountains.  The  Sierra,  too,  is  broader  where  this  chain  leaves  it  than  in 
any  other  part  that  I  have  seen.  So  soon  as  the  proper  season  comes,  and 
my  animals  are  rested,  we  turn  our  faces  homeward,  and  be  sure  that 
grass  will  not  grow  under  oiu"  feet. 

'*  All  our  people  are  well,  and  we  have  had  no  sickness  of  any  kind  among 
us;  so  that  I  hope  to  be  able  to  bring  back  with  me  all  that  I  carried  out. 
Many  months  of  hardships,  close  trials,  and  anxieties  have  tried  me  severel}', 
and  my  hair  is  turning  gray  before  its  time.  But  all  this  passes,  et  le  bon 
temps  vieudra.'''' 


w 


;<;  .^» 


:.  ■  ■  m 


f  ii^i 


After  finishing  my  letter  I  set  out  towards  evening  for  Monterey  with 
Mr.  Leidesdorff,  who  was  kind  enough  to  give  me  the  advan^a.e  of  his 
company.  His  house  was  one  of  the  best  among  the  few  in  Yerba  Buena — 
a  low  bungalow  sort  of  adobe  house  with  a  long  piazza  facing  the  bay  for 
the  sunny  mornings,  and  a  cheerful  fire  within  against  the  fog  and  chill  of  the 
afternoons.  His  wife,  a  handsome,  girl-like  woman,  Russian  from  Sitka, 
gave  the  element  of  home  which  had  been  long  missing  to  my  experience. 
He  was  a  cheerful-natured  man,  and  his  garden  and  his  wife  spoke  pleasantly 
for  him. 

We  had  started  rather  late  and  on  the  plain  beyond  the  Mission  Dolores 
in  the  darkness  and  the  fog  we  lost  our  way,  but  wandering  around  we  were 


ftr4J| 


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454 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIJE  -JOHN  CHAKLES  ERE,MOi\'J\ 


at  last  rejoiced  l)\-  licaring  the  barking  of  dogs.  This  soon  brought  us  to 
tlie  rancho  of  Don  Francisco  Sanchez,  for  which  we  were  l(Jokin<f,  and 
where  we  were  received  with  the  cordial  hospitality  which  in  those  da\s 
assured  a  good  bed  and  a  savory  supper  to  e\ery  traveller,  and  if  lijs  horse 
happened  to  be  tired  or  hurt  liy  any  accident  a  good  one  to  replace  it  for 
the  journey. 

The  next  day  we  rode  along  the  bay  shore,  the  wooded  and  fertile  char- 
acter of  which  needs  no  describing,  and  stopped  for  the  night  with  Don 
Antonio  Sunol.  This  was  \w\  first  ride  down  the  \alle}'  of  San  Jose,  and  1 
enjo\ed  e\'en  the  passing  under  the  oak  groves  with  the  branches  cut  off 
to  a  uniform  height  by  the  browsing  herds  of  cattle,  listening  the  while  to 
Leidesdorff's  account  of  the  fertility  of  the  country's  vegetation.  His 
descriptions  of  this  part  of  the  country  were  especially  interesting  to  ni^'. 
He  was  a  lover  of  nature  and  his  garden  at  San  Francisco  was,  at  tb.at 
time,  considered  a  triumph. 

After  a  half  day's  riding  from  the  Gomez  rancho,  across  the  Salinas 
plains,  we  reached  Monterey  and  went  directl}'  to  the  house  of  our  consul, 
Mr.  Larkin.  I  had  come  to  Monterey  with  the  object  of  obtaining  lea\  e  tn 
bring  my  part}-  into  the  settlements  in  order  to  refit  and  obtain  the  supplies 
that  had  now  become  necessary.  All  the  camp  equipment,  the  clothes  of 
the  men  and  their  saddles  and  horse  gear,  were  either  used  up  or  badly  in 
want  of  repair. 

The  next  morning  I  made  my  official  visits.  I  found  the  governor,  Don 
Pio  Pico,  absent  at  Los  Angeles.  With  Mr.  Larkin  I  called  upon  the  com- 
manding general,  Don  Jose  Castro,  the  prefect,  alcalde,  and  ex-Go\crnor 
Alvarado.  I  informed  the  general  and  the  other  officers  that  I  was  engaged 
in  survey'ing  the  nearest  route  from  the  United  States  to  the  Pacific  Ocean, 
I  informed  them  farther  that  the  object  of  the  survey  was  geographiL-al, 
being  under  the  direction  of  the  Bureau  of  Topographical  Engineers,  to 
which  corps  I  belonged ;  and  that  it  was  made  in  the  interests  of  science  and 
of  commerce,  and  that  the  men  composing  the  party  were  citizens  and  nut 
soldiers. 

The  permission  asked  for  was  readily  granted,  and  during  the  two  days 
I  stayed  I  was  treated  with  every  courtesy  by  the  general  and  other  officers, 

This  permission  obtained  I  immediately  set  about  arranging  for  supplies 
of  various  kinds  and  for  sending  fresh  horses  to  meet  our  people;  with 
such  supplies  of  lesser  luxuries  as  I  knew  would  be  grateful  to  thcnil  and 
by  the  middle  of  February  we  were  all  reunited  in  the  valley  of  San  Jos^', 
about  thirteen  miles  south  of  the  village  of  that  name  on  the  main  road  lead- 
ing to  Monterey,  which  was  .:'bout  sixty  miles  distant. 

When  we  separated  at  the  lake  which  bears  his  name  there  was  a  singu- 
lar mistake  between   Walker  and   myself.     The  understanding  was  that 


A  7'. 

)rought  us  to 

looking,  and 

in  those  diiy^ 

d  if  his  hcirsc 

rcphicc  it  for 

id  fertile  ehiii- 
ight  willi  Don 
■ian  Jose,  and  1 
anches  eut  off 
i<r  the  while  to 
:gctation.  11;^ 
.•resting  to  nie. 

0  was,  at  tb.iit 

OSS  the  Salin;is 
.'  of  our  consul, 
taining  leave  to 
ain  the  supplies 
t,  the  clothes  of 

1  up  or  badly  in 

governor,  Don 
ll  upon  the  com- 
id  ex-(jovernor 
1 1  was  engasred 
Pacific  C)cc;in, 
.s  geographical, 
.1  Engineers,  tn 
:s  of  science  and 
citizens  and  nut 

i<r  the  two  davs 
lid  other  othcers. 
^ing  for  supplic^ 
lir  people;  with 
lul  to  them :  mid 
|ley  of  San  ]osL 
main  road  lead- 

lore  was  a  sintru- 
Inding  was  that 


THIRD  EXPEDITION— IN  THE  VALLEY  OE  SAN  JOSE. 


455 


we  were  to  meet  on  the  Tuldre  Lake  Fork.  This  is  the  large  tribu:ary  to 
the  lake,  which  had  been  known  to  myself  and  party  in  the  cani})aign  of  the 
nreccding  year  as  the  Lake  Ri\er.  Mr.  Walker  apparently  did  not  know 
this  ri\er,  but  took  it  for  granted  that  a  much  smaller  one  coming  from  the 
tiid  of  the  range  and  discharging  where  there  are  two  small  lakes  amidst 
bulrushes  at  the  head  of  the  valley,  was  the  river  which  was  intended  for 
the  place  of  meeting.  These  lakes  are  eighty  or  ninety  miles  south  of  the 
Tulare  Lake.  At  the  end  of  the  mountain  there  were  lower  passes  which 
were  used  b}'  trappers  and  others  coming  from  the  basin  into  the  country 
;;'i)out  Los  Angeles,  and  the  ri\ers  there  were  known  to  Mr.  Walker,  while 
probably  he  had  never  seen  the  Tulare  Lake  Fork. 

Mr.  Talbot,  with  the  detached  party,  had  crossed  the  California  Mountain 
towards  the  "  Point "  and  nearly  opposite  the  southern  end  of  the  Tulare 
Lakes,  and  remained  encamped  in  a  valley  or  cove,  near  the  summit  of  the 
Sierra,  at  the  head  of  the  river,  from  December  27th  to  January  17th.  The 
cove  was  well  wooded  with  evergreen  oaks,  some  \  arieties  of  pine,  firs,  and 
cedars,  maintaining  the  usual  majestic  growth  which  characterizes  the  cone- 
bearing  trees  of  the  Sierra.  Until  the  12th  of  January  the  weather  was 
almost  that  of  summer,  when  the  rains  commenced,  almost  three  weeks 
later  than  in  latitude  37°,  where  I  was.  On  the  17th  there  was  a  fall  of 
snnw,  washed  off  by  a  cold  fall  of  rain  in  the  afternoon,  the  high  ranges 
remaining  covered  a  foot  deep.  After  that,  snow  and  rain  alternated  with 
sunshine,  snow  remaining  on  the  ridges;  and  winter  set  in  fairly  on  all  the 
upper  half  of  the  mountain.  To  this  river  I  gave  the  name  of  my  topogra- 
pher, Kern. 

Finding  that  I  did  not  arrive,  Mr.  Talbot,  counseling  with  Walker,  judged 
it  expedient  to  descend  into  the  valley;  and  on  the  morning  of  the  19th  re- 
sumed liis  journey  down  the  San  Joaquin  to  the  Cosumne  River,  where 
they  made  an  encampment  to  wait  until  hearing  from  me.  Meantime  Mr. 
Walker,  in  his  turn,  set  out  on  a  search  for  me  which  was  happily  termi- 
nated by  meeting  Carson  and  Owens,  who  were  looking  for  him. 

The  people  were  all  in  good  health,  having  been  well  supplied  with 
L'ame,  and  the  animals  were  in  improving  condition.  The  route  of  the 
party  had  been  an  easy  one  along  the  base  of  the  Sierra  and  the  pass  at  the 
head  of  the  river  was  low,  broad,  and  open,  without  any  impediment.  To 
one  of  the  lakes  along  their  route  on  the  cast  side  of  the  range  I  gave 
Owens'  name. 

During  the  stay  of  the  party  on  the  Cosumne  a  grizzly  bear  .showed  the 
value  of  a  sudden  onset.  One  of  these  animals  ranging  the  river  bottom  after 
acorns  had  accidentally  discovered  the  camp,  which  was  at  breakfast,  and 
charged  into  it,  scattering  the  men,  driving  some  into  trees,  and  holding 
possession  until  some  of  the  men  got  hold  of  their  guns.     The  bear  treed 


^l'?!:l 


lEt 


m 


y.  '  ■  i'B't 


•T'ff         a 

mm.  \  -A 


456 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FR&MONT. 


even  the  Delawares.  Me  had  four  inches  thickness  of  fat  on  his  back  and 
on  his  belly,  and  was  estimated  to  weigh  a  thousand  pounds.  This  shows 
the  tine  quality  of  the  range. 

The  place  which  I  had  selected  for  rest  and  refitting  was  a  vacant 
rancho  called  the  Lcuruna,  belonging  to  Mr.  Fisher.  I  remained  here  until 
February,  in  the  delightful  spring  season  of  a  most  delightful  climate.  The 
time  was  occupied  in  purchasing  horses,  obtaining  supplies,  and  thoroiichlv 
refitting  the  party. 

I  established  the  rate  of  the  chronometer  and  made  this  encampment  a 
new  point  of  departure.  Observations  put  it  in  longitude  121°  39' 08", 
latitude  37"  13'  32".  This  point  is  but  a  few  miles  distant  from  wliat  is 
now  the  Lick  Observatory. 

Many  Californians  visited  the  camp,  and  ver}-  friendly  relations  grew  up 
with  us.  One  day  amusements  were  going  on  as  usual,  the  Californians 
showing  our  men  their  admirable  horsemanship.  One  of  the  large  vultures 
which  are  often  seen  floating  about  overhead  had  been  brought  down  with 
a  broken  wing  by  one  of  our  rifles.  This  was  the  point  on  which  we  ex- 
celled, as  the  others  in  perfect  horsemanship.  The  vulture  was  sitting  on 
the  frame  of  a  cart  to  which  he  had  been  tied;  he  had  gotten  over  his  hurt 
and  would  have  been  treated  as  a  pet,  but  his  savage  nature  would  not  per- 
mit of  any  approach.  By  accident  a  Californian  had  gotten  a  fall  and  the 
whole  camp  was  sliouting  and  laughing,  and  Owens,  his  mouth  wide  open. 
was  backing  towards  the  cart  to  rest  his  arm  on  the  wheel,  forgetful  of  the 
vulture.  The  vulture  with  his  long,  red  neck  stretched  out  was  seizing  the 
opportunity — we  all  saw  it  and  Owens  saw  our  amusement,  but  not  quite  in 
time  to  escape  the  grip  of  the  vultin-e. 

It  was  quite  a  picture.  The  vulture  lying  in  wait,  and  Owens'  uncon- 
sciousness, and  the  hearty  laugh  which  cheered  the  bird's  exploit.  Owens 
got  off  with  a  sharp  pinch  and  a  torn  sleeve. 

The  fertile  valley  of  San  Jose  is  a  narrow  plain  of  rich  soil  lying  between 
equally  fertile  ranges  from  two  thousand  to  three  thousand  feet  high,  cov- 
ered on  one  side  with  wild  oats,  and  wooded  on  the  range  toward  the  sea. 
The  valley  is  openly  wooded  with  groves  of  oak  free  from  underbrush,  and 
after  the  spring  rains  covered  with  grass.  On  the  west  it  is  protected  from 
the  chilling  influence  of  the  northwest  winds  by  the  Ctiesta  de  hs  Gatos— 
Wild-Cat  Ridge — which  separates  it  from  the  coast. 

Resuming  the  work  of  the  expedition,  on  the  2 2d  March  we  encamped  on 
the  Wild-Cat  Ridge  on  the  road  to  Santa  Cruz,  and  again  on  the  23d  near 
the  summit.  The  \aried  character  of  the  woods  and  shrubbery  on  this 
mountain,  which  lay  between  my  camp  and  the  Santa  Cruz  shore,  was  very 
interesting  to  me,  and  I  wished  to  spend  some  days  there,  as  now  the  spring 


was  seizing  the 
but  not  quite  in 


THIRD  EXPEDITION.— SOME  ENORMOUS  TREES. 


457 


season  was  rcncvvin<i;  vegetation,  and  the  aceounts  of  the  _<;reat  trees  in 
the  forest  on  tlie  west  slope  of  the  mountain  had  roused  my  euriosity. 
Alwavs,  tiH),  I  iiad  before  my  mind  the  home  I  wislied  to  mai<e  in  this  eoun- 
trv,  and  first  one  plaee  and  then  anotiier  eharnied  me.  But  none  seemed 
nerfcct  where  the  sea  was  w;uitin<j:,  and  so  far  I  had  nt)t  stood  by  the  open 
waves  of  the  Paeilie.  Tlie  soft  ehmate  of  the  San  Jose  valley  was  very 
ciitiein;;",  and  in  the  interior  I  had  ^clii  lo\ely  spots  in  tlie  midst  of  the  great 
;nnes  where  the  mountains  looked  down,  but  the  sea  was  laeking.  The  piny 
irriM-rance  was  <;-rateful,  but  it  was  not  the  invigorating  salt  breeze  which 
iiiinii's  wi'h  it  renewed  strength.  This  I  wantetl  for  my  mother.  h"or 
mc,  the  shore  of  "the  sounding  sea"  was  a  pleasure  of  which  I  ne\er 
wearied,  and  I  knew  that  along  this  coast  the  sea  broke  deep  against 
IidI'.I  rocks  or  shining  sands.  All  this  I  had  reason  to  believe  I  would  lind 
somewhere  on  the  Santa  Cru/,  shore.  We  ren-.ained  on  the  upper  portion 
nt  the  mountain  several  days.  The  place  of  our  encampment  was  two 
thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  and  was  co\ered  with  a  luxuriant  growth  of 
uTa.^•^  a  foot  high  in  many  places. 

At  sunrise  the  temperature  was  40";  at  noon,  60°;  at  four  in  the  after- 
UiHin,  ()5"\  and  63"  at  sunset,  with  \ciy  plea>ant  weather.  The  mountains 
were  wooded  with  many  \arieties  of  trees,  and  in  some  parts  with  heavy 
t);v-.ts.  These  forests  are  cb.aracteri/.ed  by  a  cypress  {/iix(hl/ttiji)  of  extraor- 
(iiiiarv  dimensions,  which  I  ha\c  idready  mentioned  among  the  liees  in  the 
Sii.ri-a  Nevada  as  distingui^hed  among  the  forest  trees  of  America  by  its 
>;;perior  size  and  height.  Among  many  we  measured  in  this  part  of  tlie 
mountain  a  diameter  of  nine  or  ten  feet  was  frequent,  sometimes  eleven; 
but  giiiiiL;'  beyond  ele\en  only  in  a  single  tree,  which  reached  fourteen  feet  in 
(.lianicter.  Above  two  hundred  feet  was  a  frequent  height.  In  this  I'lcality 
the  bark  was  very  deeply  furrowed  and  unusually  thick,  being  fully  sixteen 
inches  on  some  of  the  trees.  It  was  now  in  bloom,  tlowering  near  the  sum- 
mit, and  liie  tlov^'c!.-.  eonsecjuently  ditbcult  to  procure. 

This  is  the  staple  tim'-  -tree  of  the  country,  being  cut  into  both  boards 
and  sliiiiL^les,  and  is  the  |  .mcipal  timber  sawed  at  the  mills.  It  is  soft  and 
easily  worked,  wearing  away  too  (piickly  to  be  used  for  floors;  but  it  seems 
to  have  all  the  durabilit\-  which  .Ticicntlv  gave  the  cypress  so  much  celebrity. 
Posts  which  had  been  exposed  to  the  weather  three-quarters  of  a  century, 
since  the  foundation  of  the  Missions,  showed  no  marks  of  decay  in  the  wood 
aiul  are  now  converted  into  beams  and  posts  for  private  dwellings.  In  Cal- 
ifornia this  tree  is  called  the  Palo  Colorado,  Redwood. 

Among  the  oaks  in  this  mountain  is  a  handsome,  lofty  evergreen  tree, 
specitically  different  from  those  of  the  lower  grounds,  and  in  its  general 
appearance  much  resembling  hickory.  The  bark  is  smooth,  of  a  white  color, 
and  the  wood  hard  and  close-grained.     It  seems  to  prefer  the  north  hill- 


i,l 


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458 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


sides,  where  some  were  nearly  four  feet  in  diameter  and  a  hundred  feet 
high. 

Another  remarkable  tree  of  these  woods  is  called  in  the  lani^ua<'e  of  the 
country  Madroiia.  It  is  a  beautiful  evergreen  with  large,  thick,  and  irKissv 
digitated  leaves;  the  trunk  and  branches  reddish  colored  and  haviiv  a 
smooth  and  singularly  naked  appearance,  as  if  the  bark  had  been  striiiixd 
off.  In  its  green  state  the  wood  is  brittle,  very  heavy,  hard,  and  close- 
graincil;  it  is  said  to  assume  a  red  color  when  dry,  sometimes  varic<fated, 
and  susceptible  of  a  high  polish.  This  tree  was  found  by  us  only  in  the 
mountains.  .Some  measured  nearly  four  feet  in  diameter  .-ind  were  about 
sixty  feet  high. 

A  few  scattered  flowers  were  now  showing  throughout  the  forc>ts.  and  011 
the  open  ridges  shrubs  were  flowering;  but  the  bloom  was  not  vet  general. 

On  the  25th  of  February  we  descended  to  the  coast  near  the  north- 
western point  of  Monterey  Bay,  losing  our  flne  weather,  whicii  in  the  eve- 
ning changed  to  a  cold  southeasterly  storm  that  continued  with  heavy  and 
constant  rains  for  several  days. 

The  rain-storm  closed  with  Februar}-,  and  the  weather  becoming  fine, 
on  the  1st  of  March  we  resumed  our  progress  along  the  coast.  0\er  tlie 
face  of  the  country  between  Santa  Cruz  and  Monterey,  and  around  the 
plains  of  San  Juan,  the  grass,  which  had  been  eaten  down  b}-  the  large  herds 
of  cattle,  was  now  everywhere  springing  up  and  flo  ers  began  to  show  their 
bloom.  In  the  valleys  of  the  mountains  bordering  the  Salinas  plains  wild 
oats  were  three  feet  high  and  well  headed.  The  Salinas  River  runs  throiii,fh 
these  plains,  which  are  some  fifty  miles  in  length. 

Pursuing  our  coin-se  to  the  southward  I  encamped  on  the  afternoon  of 
March  3d  at  the  IlartncU  rancho,  which  is  on  a  small  creek-bed  well  out 
on  the  plain.  We  were  now  passing  Tvlonterey,  which  was  about  twent\- 
live  miles  distant. 

The  Salinas  valley  lay  outside  of  the  more  occupie.'l  parts  of  the  country: 
and  I  was  on  my  way  to  a  pass,  opening  into  the  San  Joaquin  vallev',  at  the 
head  of  a  western  branch  of  the  Salinas  River. 


I    i 


M" 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

Third  Kxpedition — Ordered  Out  of  tlie  Country. — Hciu  'nl  Castro  Makes  an  Offer. — Corre- 
siiondeiiLU  with  Larkin. — Nual's  (lood  Luck. — .M.undaiicf  of  Salmon. — Mount  Linn 
and  Mount  Siiastl. — WiUl  Cattle. — I  Perform  a  Suri^ical  Openition. — .Anhambeau  Lost. 
—Reach  'I'lamath  Lake. —  In  an  Unexplored  Country. — Neal  Informs  Me  of  (lillespie. — 
Meet  (lillesjiie  and  Receive  (lovernment  f)rilers. — Desperate  Fi^lit  with  Tlamatlis. — 
Sayundai  and  Swonok  Take  Two  Scalps. — Another  Fight  with  Tlamatlis. 

In  the  afternoon  the  quiet  of  the  camp  was  clisturbcd  by  the  sudden 
appearance  of  a  cavalry  officer  with  two  men.  The  otliccr  jiroved  to  be 
Lieutenant  Chavez,  with  a  connmuiication  from  the  commandinj,'^  "general.  I  le 
seemed  disposed  to  be  sf;..'ewhat  rude  and  abrupt  as  I  hav  e  remarked  that 
subalterns  usually  are  when  they  represent  unfriendly  masters.  This  one 
hrouji'ht  to  me  peremptory  letters  from  the  general  and  prefect,  ordering  me 
forthwith  out  of  the  department,  and  threatening  force  in  the  event  that 
I  sli.Hild  not  instantly  comply  with  the  order. 

Surprised  both  at  the  message  and  the  terms  in  which  it  was  worded, 
I  cxp'jssed  to  the  envo}'  my  astonishment  at  Cicneral  Castro's  breach  of 
iiooii  lith,  and  the  rudeness  with  which  he  committed  it;  both  of  which,  I 
rn.Kukcd  to  him,  were  imworthy  of  an  officer  in  his  position.  And  I  de- 
sired him  to  say  in  repl}'  to  (ileneral  Castro  that  I  peremptorily  refused  com- 
pliance to  an  order  insulting  to  my  government  and  myself. 

And  with  this  message  the  envoy  went  off  to  his  general. 

Like  myself  my  men  were  roused  by  the  offence  of  the  message,  and 
were  more  than  ready  to  support  me  in  any  cotn-se  I  saw  tit  to  adopt. 

Early  in  the  morning  I  moved  camp  a  few  miles  to  the  foot  of  the 
ritl>;e,  which  separates  the  Salinas  from  the  San  Joaquin,  at  the  house  of 
1)  in  Joaquin  Gomez.  A  stream  here  issues  from  the  mountain  which  is 
called  the  Gavilan  Peak.  The  road  from  Monterey  passes  by  this  place, 
cnrcring  the  neighboring  San  Juan  valley  b\-  wa}'  of  a  short  pass  called 
t     (iomez  Pass. 

From  the  Gomez  r;uicho  there  is  a  wood-road  leading  up  to  the  top  of 
the  ridge;  following  this  in  the  morning  I  moved  up  the  mountain  and 
incaiiiped  on  a  small  wooded  flat  at  the  summit  of  the  Sierra.  This  was  a 
convenient  position.  It  afforded  wood,  water,  and  grass;  and  commanded 
a  view  of  the  surrounding  country,  including  the  vallc}-  of  vSan  Juan  and 
the  Salin.  plain.  In  case  of  exigency  it  opened  a  retreat  to  the  San 
Joaquin. 

Arriving  at  the  summit,  I  proceeded  immediately  to  build  a  rough  but 


Ri  •'  '1 


■ft-     II 


rl;  m 


46 


•>o 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


Strong  fort  of  solid  logs,  for  which  wc  found  good  trees  abundant  on  the 
ridge.  While  this  was  being  built  a  tall  sapling  was  prepared,  .-.nd  on  it 
when  all  was  ready,  the  American  fl-.g  was  raised  amid.,t  the  -cheers  (jf  the 
inen.     The  raising  of  this  flag  prove.l  to  be  a  premonitory  symptom. 

Meantime  I  opened  communicjuion  with  a  rancho  in  the  vai!i.\-  and  a 
steer  was  brought  up  to  me  by  two  Californian  vaqueros.  The  wild 
steer  never  could  ha\e  been  driven  up  by  the  vaqueros,  but  tJKv  had 
made  him  fast  by  a  riata  to  a  work-ox  which  tugged  it  up  to  the  camp; 
they  butchered  it  in, mediately,  and  the  smell  and  sigh:  of  the  blood  so 
excited  the  'tame"  ox,  that  he  became  W'ld  and  commenced  hostilities  b\- 
charguig  into  and  scattering  the  camp. 

I  :emained  in  position,  our  ll;!g  11}  ing,  for  three  days;  during  which 
I  recei\ed  information  from  Mr.  Larkin  and  from  Californians  of  what 
was  going  on  below.  From  the  fort  by  aid  of  the  glass  we  could  sec  IkIo"., 
at  the  Mission  of  San  Juan,  Castro's  troops  gathering,  and  by  the  vaqncms 
we  were  informed  that  Indians  (Maiisos)  were  being  brought  into  their 
camp  and  kept  excited  by  drink. 

I. ate  in  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day  we  discovered  a  body  of  cav- 
alry coming  up  the  wood-ioad  which  led  from  the  Monterev  road  to  our 
camp.  With  about  forty  men  I  went  quickly  down  the  wood-road  to 
where  a  Lliickct  along  the  creek  made  a  good  aiT.hush,  and.  waiivd  fi-r 
them.  They  e;nne  up  to  Vvitliin  a  fev\'  hundred  yards,  v.'hcn  tlicv  halted: 
but  after  some  consultation  they  turned  back.  Had  they  come  on  thcv 
would  !i;ive  had  to  pass  witliin  a  few  prices  of  us. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  tliird  da}'  the  pole  bearing  our  llag  fell  tn 
the  ground.  Thinking  I  h;ul  remained  .'is  long  as  the  occ:is!on  rcti'.iircd.  1 
took  advantage  of  the  accident  to  sa}'  to  the  iiicn  thr.t  tins  was  an  indication 
for  us  to  mo\e  camp,  and  accordingly  I  ga\e  the  order  to  prepare  to  move. 
The  protecting  faxor  which  the  usage  of  ;ill  ei\ili/cd  governments  ."^n! 
peoples  accords  to  scientific  expeditions  impt)scd  on  me,  even  here,  a  c  ;:  • 
sponding  (^^lig.'ilion;  and  1  novi'  telt  myself  bound  to  go  on  in\  \v;i}',  h;;\'.  .. 
•riven  General  Castro  siillicient  time  to  execute  his  threat.  IJesides  1  kc.'' 
always  in  mind  the  object  of  the  (jovernnient  to  obt;iin  possession  of  C';>'- 
ifornia  and  would  not  let  a  proceeding  which  wris  mostly  personal  pi;: 
obstacles  in  the  way.  In  a  letter  written  shortly  afterwards  to  Mrs.  Fi'i- 
mont  I  make  the  allusion  which  she  would  fully  comprehend: 

"  Sach.\mi:xt()  Rivi:i<  (latitude  40"),  April  i,  1846. 

"  .     .     .     The  Spaniards  were  somewhat  rude  and  inhospitable  below, 

and  ordered   us  out  of  the  country,  after  having  gi\en   me  permission  to 

winter  there.     My  sense  of  duty  did  not  permit  me  to  fight  them,  hut  we 

retired  slowl\'  and  growlingly  before  a  force  of  three  or  four  hundred  men, 


!i'  I 


THIRD  EXPEDITION.— GENERAL  CASTRO  MAKES  AN  OEEER.     461 

and  three  pieces  of  artillery.  Without  a  shadow  of  a  cause,  the  governor 
suddenly  raised  the  whole  country  against  us,  issuing  a  false  and  scandalous 
proclamation.  Of  course  I  did  not  dare  to  compromise  the  United  States, 
aijainst  which  appearances  wor.ld  ha\i;  been  strong;  but,  although  it  was  in 
mv  power  to  increase  my  part}'  by  many  Americans,  I  refrained  from  com- 
mitting a  solitary  act  of  hostility  or  impropriety." 

On  the  morning  of  the  nth,  after  I  had  left  my  camp  (5n  the  hill,  Mr. 
John  (iilroy,  an  Englishman  resident  in  California,  came  to  my  camp  with 
a  message  from  General  Castro,  offering  to  make  an  arrangement  with  me. 
Mr.  Gilroy  found  our  tires  burning.  I  was  afterwa'-ds  informed  that  the 
proposition  was  that  I  should  imitc  my  force  with  his  and  jointly  march 
a_f;iinst  the  Governor  Don  Pio  Pico.  This  agreed  so  well  with  the  Mexican 
revolutionary  habit,  and  subsequent  confirmatory  facts,  that  I  fully  believe  it. 

In  his  letters  Mr.  Larkin  says  that  the  Californian  who  had  brought  tlicm 
to  niv  camp  reported  to  him  that  2000  of  his  countrymen  would  not  be  suf- 
tlcicnt  to  compel  me  to  leave  the  country,  although  my  party  was  small.  The 
Itt'x'rs  of  Mr.  Larkin  to  the  Secretary  of  State,  Mr.  Parrott  the  American 
Consul  at  Mazatlan,  and  myself,  give  a  clear  view  of  the  extraordinar}'  cir- 
aimstances  through  which  I  had  just  passed,  and  accordingly  1  insert  them 
here. 

The  change  in  the  action  of  the  Californian  authorities  towards  me  seemed 
inexplicable  until  when  afterwards  I  learned  that  within  three  weeks  after 
f.nanting  me  permission  to  refresh  mv  part}'  in  California,  General  Castro 
h;id  received  by  the  Ilciniiah  from  the  home  government  at  Mexico  positi\  e 
orders  to  drive  nie  from  the  territory.  Later  I  learned  from  VVashington 
of  this  action  taken  against  me  bv  the  Mexican  (jovernment. 

The  following  letters  cover  fully  the  actual  situation: 

CONSl'LATR    OF    THE    UnITKO    StATES, 

MoN'ncKF.Y,  Cai.ii'orxia.  March  4,  1846. 
Sir:  The  undersigned  has  the  honor  to  inform  the  Ilonor.i'ile  Sccrctar}' 
that  Captain  J.  C.  Fremont  arrived  within  this  department  in  January 
lu>t,  witli  his  jiarty  of  fifty  men,  and  was  at  the  home  of  the  undersigned 
a  tew  da\s  during  the  last  month,  for  the  purpose  of  getting  funds  for 
relitting  and  clothing  his  partv,  which  he  received  as  far  as  could  be  pro- 
cured, lie  is  ncAV  in  this  vicinity  surveying,  and  will  be  again  at  this  con- 
sular house  during  this  month.  He  then  proceeds  for  the  Oregon,  returns 
hire  in  May,  and  expects  to  be  in  Washington  about  September.  To  this 
jrcntlcman  is  due,  from  the  Government,  uncpialified  praise  for  the  patience, 
iiidustry,  and  indefatigable  perseverance  in  attaining  the  object  he  is 
eu'^a^-ed  in. 


[I  II 


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Wit         'i 


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!i'i 


462 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRJ^MONT. 


Captain  Fremont  passed  three  degrees  south  of  Fort  Hall,  having  taken 
a  route  supposed  to  be  a  desert,  which  made  his  distance  to  CaHfornia  ejn-ht 
or  nine  hundred  miles  less.  He  considers  the  distance  from  Independence  to 
Monterey  abouL  one  thousand  nine  hundred  miles.  He  describes  the  new 
route  he  followed  far  preferable,  not  only  on  account  of  the  less  distance 
but  it  is  less  mountainous,  with  good  pasturage,  and  well  wateri'l.  The 
second  day  of  his  arrixal  in  Montere}-,  he  visited  the  commandante  general, 
prefecto,  and  alcalde,  and  by  verbal  request  of  the  general,  informed  hini 
officially  of  his  object  in  visiting  California.  The  undersigned  forwards, 
with  this,  the  two  annexed  letters  respecting  Captain  Fr^nnont's  arrival. 

I  am,  sir,  with  the  highest  respect  and  consideration,  }our  most  obedient 
servant,  (Signed)  Thomas  O.  Larki.n. 

To  the  Hon.  Secretary  of  State,  City  of  Washington. 

Consulate  of  the  United  States, 
Monterey,  March  9,  1846. 

Sir  :  Enclosed  you  have  a  copy  of  ni}'  answer  to  the  general  and  pre- 
fecto of  this  ])lace,  one  to  Captain  Fremont,  and  the  second  letter  from  the 
prefect.  Captain  Fremont  is  eight  or  nine  leagues  from  this  place  encamped, 
intending  to  move  as  soon  as  the  state  of  his  horses  will  permit.  There 
will  be  two  to  three  hundred  people  collected  together  to-morrow,  with  the 
intention  of  attacking  the  camp.  Captain  Fremont  has  about  hft}  men 
all  men  of  confidence,  and  remarkabl}'  well  armed.  Neither  himself  nor  men 
have  any  fears  respecting  the  result  of  the  present  state  of  affairs;  yet,  lu 
the  result  for  or  against  him,  it  ma}'  pro\e  of  a  disadvantage  to  the  resideiu 
Americans  in  California.  I  have  at  some  (risk)  despatched  out  two 
couriers  to  the  camp,  with  duplicate  letters,  and  this  letter  I  send  to  Santa 
Barbara,  in  expectation  of  finding  a  vessel  bovuid  to  Mazatlan.  Having 
had  over  one-half  of  my  hospital  expenses  of  1844  cut  off,  and  know  not 
why,  and  e\  en  my  bill  for  a  flag,  I  do  not  feel  disposed  to  iiazard  much  lor 
govenmcnt,  though  the  life  of  Captain  Fremont  and  party  may  need  i^.  I 
hardly  know  how  to  act.  I  have  onh'  received  one  letcer  (of  June)  from 
the  department  for  the  3'ear  1S45.  In  the  m(>nth  of  February,  Captain 
Fremont,  in  my  compan}',  visited  tlie  general,  prefecto,  and  alcalde  (if  thi-' 
place,  and  informed  them  of  his  business;  and  there  was  no  objection  made. 
\\'ithin  twenty  days  the  general  says  he  had  recci^■ed  direct  and  speci'ie 
orders  from  Mexico  not  to  allow  Captain  Fremont  to  enter  California; 
which,  prr/urps,  accounts  for  the  change  of  feelings  with  tiie  people. 

I   am.    sir,  with   the   liighest    re-^pcct   anil   consideration,  your  obedient 
servant.  (Signed)  Thomas  O.   Lakkin. 

7o  till'  /foil.  Srrrcfary  of  .Siti/r,  C/ly  i^f  \\';i '/iiii:<'foii. 


THIRD  EXPEDTT UN— CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  LARKIN.        46,5 

It  will  be  noticed  that  Mr.  Larkin  says  in  this  letter  to  the  Secretary  that 
he  had  ''  or.ly  received  one  letter  (of  June)  from  the  department  for  the  year 
1845."  From  this  it  does  not  appear  that  the  State  Department  was  watch- 
ful.   The  ^  avy  Department  was. 

NOTE    IN    PENCIL     FROM     C.\PTAIN    FRltlMONT     TO     THE     CONSUL     LARKIX 
FROM    HIS    FNTRENCHKl)    CAMP    ON    THE    PIC    DEL    GAHELANO, 
THIRT'        TILES    FROM    MONTEREY,    MARCH    9,    1846. 

My  Dear  Sir  :  I  this  moment  reoeived  your  letters,  and,  without  wait- 
iiio-  to  read  them,  acknowlcd<re  the  receipt  which  the  courier  requires 
immediately.  I  am  makinjr  myself  as  stroni^  as  possible,  in  the  intention 
lliat  if  we  are  unjustly  attacked  we  will  tight  to  extremit}'  and  refuse 
quarU'r,  trust'nt^  to  our  country  to  avenj^e  us.  No  one  has  reached  our 
camp,  and  from  the  hei<,dits  we  are  able  to  see  with  the  f^Iass  troops  mustcr- 
ini:  at  San  Juan  and  preparing  cannon. 

I  thank  you  for  your  kindness  and  good  wishes,  and  would  write  mork.- 
at  length  as  to  my  intentions  did  I  not  fear  that  my  letter  would  be  inter- 
cepted. We  have  in  nowise  done  wrong  to  the  people  or  the  authorities  of 
the  countr}',  and  if  we  are  hemmed  in  and  assaulted  here  we  will  die  every 
man  of  us  under  the  flag  of  our  country. 

Very  truly  yours, 

J.  C.  Fremont. 

P.S. — I  am  encamped  on  the  top  of  the  Sierra  at  the  head-waters  of  a 
stream  which  strikes  the  road  to  Monterey  at  the  house  of  Don  Joaquin 
Gomez.  J.  C.   F. 

Thomas  O.  Larkin,  Esq.,  Consul  for  the  United  States,  Monterey. 

LETTER   from  CONSUL  O.    '.ARKIN    TO   THE   U.    S.    CONSUL   AT   MAZATLAN, 

askixci  naval  assistance  f(jr  captain  fremont. 

Consulate  of  the  United  States, 

Monterey,  California,  March  9,  1846. 
SiK  :  PZnclosed  with  this,  3'ou  will  receive  several  copies  of  correspond- 
ence in  this  town,  for  the  present  week  ;  also  an  official  letter  for  the  captain 
of  any  of  our  ships  of  war  you  mav  have  in  your  port  on  your  receiNifig 
this  letter.  It  is  impossible  to  say  whether  Senor  Castro,  the  prefecto,  and 
the  general  will  attack  Captain  Fremont  ;  we  expect  such  will  be  the  case, 
t  am  just  informed  by  Sefior  Arce,  the  general's  secretar}-,  who  has  just 
eome  in  from  the  general's  camp  (St.  John's),  that  the  whole  country  will 
be  raised  to  force  Captain  Fr^-mont,  if  they  require  so  many.     Sefior  Arc6 


M   ;        1 


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464 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  L^REMONT. 


fl  iiljl 


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ill' 


further  says,  the  camp  of  the  Americans  is  near  Mr,  Ilartneirs  rancho,  on 
a  high  hill,  with  his  flag  flying  ;  of  the  latter  I  am  not  certain.  As  you  are 
acquainted  with  this  country,  and  its  people,  you  will  advise  with  our  naval 
captains  on  the  subject  of  sailing  immediately  for  this  port.  If  the  vessel  is 
not  actual!}'  obliged  to  go  elsewhere,  it  is  my  earnest  desire  she  sails  lor 
Monterey  on  the  receipt  of  this,  although  e\erything  may  end  peaceably 


amongst  us. 


Believe  me  to  be,  yours,  sincerely, 

(Signed)  Thom.\s  O.  Larkin. 

To  yohn  Pixrrott^  Esq.,  United  Sfatcs  Consul,  Mazatlan. 

lCopy.\ 
Consulate  ok  the  United  States, 

Monterey,  California,  March  9,  1846. 
Sir  :  Captain  J.  C.  Freemont  with  a  party  of  tifty  men  has  been  within 
the  limits  of  California  about  two  months,  within  a  few  days  encamped  about 
eight  leagues  from  this  Town,  resting  his  men  &  animals,  he  has  two 
letters  from  the  General  and  Prefecto,  wherein  he  is  ordered  to  lca\e  tiiir 
Country,  or  they  will  take  immediate  measures  to  compel  him,  they  sent 
me  copies  of  the  same,  which  I  have  sent  in  Engli-;h  to  Captain  Freemont.  I 
have  not  heard  from  the  camp  since,  this  morning  I  wrote  to  Captain  I'^rec- 
mont  in  duplicate,  one  by  a  Native,  the  other  by  a  Foreigner,  by  to-morrow 
there  will  be  collected  togalher  nearly  three  hundred  men,  with  the  intenti  ' . 
to  drive  out  the  strangers,  and  if  required,  there  will  be  by  the  next  week, 
much  larger  bodv  collected  ;  should  this  force  be  used  against  Cart;;!' 
Freen.ont,  much  blood  will  be  shed,  his  party  thougli  of  only  fifty  in  number. 
have  from  three  to  six  guns,  rifles,  and  pistols  each, — and  very  deterniinec!. 
both  Commander  tk.  men,  having  every  conlidence  in  each  other.  It  \\a> 
the  intention  of  Captain  Freemont,  to  leave  this  week,  if  his  animals  were  in 
good  condition,  perhaps  he  may  not  now  be  willing,  as  the  people  wish  t'l 
force  him  ;  he  was  at  my  house  alone  in  February,  and  in  company  witli 
me,  visited  the  General,  Prefecto  &  Alcalde,  informed  them  of  his  orders !  > 
survey  the  nearest  route  to  the  Pacific,  and  had  come  into  California  :  > 
purchase  provisions,  clothes  &  other  necessaries,  including  horses ;  a:i 
objection  was  made  at  the  time,  since  then,  the  General  states,  that  he  1k> 
received  by  the  "Hannah,"  positive  orders  from  Mexico,  to  drive  Captain 
Freemont  from  the  country.  I  shall  send  this  letter  open  to  Consul  Parrott 
of  Mazatlan,  with  copies  of  this  weeks  correspondence.  If  there  is  a  lii:li; 
between  these  people  &  Captain  I'reemont,  be  the  result  for  or  au^ains 
him  ;  the  American  residents  are  under  some  apprehensions  of  their  safety 
hereafter.  I  would  therefore  recjuest  you,  if  in  your  power,  to  despateli  a 
Sloop  of  War,  to  this  Port,  from  Mazatlan,  on  the  receipt  of  this. 


P'fHl 


THIRD  EXPEDITION— CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  LARKIN. 


465 


I  understand  there  were  in  December,  ti\e  of  our  Ships  of  War  then  in 
that  Port,  sliould  this  be  tlie  ease,  I  hope  it  will  not  be  inconvenient  to 
coinpl}  with  this  request.  1  have  looked  for  the  Portsmouth  over  two 
numths;  Captain  Montgomery  informed  me  he  was  to  return. 

I  remain.  Sirs',  your  respectfuU  servant, 

(Signed)  Thomas  O.  Larkin. 

To  the  Coniiiiaiider  of  any  American  Ship  of  War^ 

in  San  Blas^  or  Mazatlan. 
Monlcrcy^  May  2g,  18^6. 

The  above  is  a  cop}'  of  the  original — drawn  off  at  the  request  of  Captain 
.Mi)iu,<;()mery — Captain  I'^-eemont  was  not  attacked — the  Californians  did 
not  conic  witliin   three   leagues  of   his    camp — he   is   now  on  his  wa}'   to 

Origon. 


(Signed) 


Thomas  O.  Lakkin. 


COPY    SENT    CAT'i'MN    FRltMONT    liY    COXSl'L    LAKKIN. 

CONSLLSHU'  OF  THi:  UxiTKI)  SlwrRS, 

MoNTiCRKY,  March  10,  1846. 

Mv  Dkar  Sir  :  I  am  ignorant  if  it  would  meet  with  the  approbation  of 
CVptain  Fremont,  that  I  should  permit,  that  of  the  note  wliich  he  wrote 
with  so  much  precipitation,  the  transhition  should  be  made  whicli  \ou  so- 
licit. I)ut  since  it  pleases  you  to  allow  that  my  courier  should  pass  to  the 
iiKuinpnicnt  of  said  officer,  and  trusting  that  the  contents  of  the  said  note 
will  contribute  to  calm  the  minds,  and  preserve  harmony,  I  consent  that  the 
translation  wliich  you  wish  may  be  made. 

Perhaps  the  authorities  have  conceived  suspicions  in  relation  to  mv 
person,  considering  the  difficulty  of  the  circumstance,  being  Consul  of 
the  United  States,  but  I  cannot  remedy  it.  Nevertheless,  you  may  know 
that  vcrball}'  I  have  offered  my  services,  always  when  I  ha\e  juilgcd 
them  in  any  manner  useful,  the  same  as  now  I  am  lending  them  b\' 
writing.  Captain  I'remont  has  his  particulai"  instructions,  wliich  it  is 
nut  one  of  the  attributes  of  this  consulship  to  alter,  nevertheless  f  will 
(In  as  much  as  ma}-  be  reconcilable  with  my  functions  to  a\ oid  any  conflict 
whatc\or. 

It  only  remains  for  me  to  ask  you  respectfully,  that  when  you  write  to- 
day to  the  General,  that  you  make  known  to  him  on  my  part,  that  I  take 
the  liberty  to  propose  to  him  that  before  proceeding  to  extremities,  he  will 
please  to  address  a  communication  to  Captain  Fremont,  in  which  he  sl-.all 
ask  of  hini  an  hour's  interview.     I  am  in  the  firm  belief  that  there  will  be  a 


'm 


w 


! 


i  :!  m  ■" 


m 

1  '  *i:ltl 

ifJIi' 

m 

rl.w 

^^B 

Iffs 

il'. '' 


ri  I  1;! 


I  Mm. 


1 


l-M ,  - 


5     ':l 


iJiJi 


466 


MFMOfRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


copious  effusion  of  blood,  if  the  officer  in  question  is  attacked,  and  there 
would  result  from  a  step  of  such  a  nature,  not  only,  that  many  lives  would 
be  lost  on  both  sides,  but  it  would  be  the  oriijin  of  great  expenses,  consider- 
able damages,  and  perhaps  a  greater  flow  of  blood  in  the  future,  between 
the  citizens  of  our  respective  nations.  Finall}',  intimately  convinced  I  am. 
th.'.t  forcible  measures  will  not  produce  a  single  good,  but  evils  of  <rreat 
m.-ignitude  now  and  in  the  time  to  come. 

I  have  powerful  motives  for  believing  that  Captain  Fremont  yet  remains 
where  he  is,  with  the  sole  end  of  affording  his  horses  some  rest  (since  he 
hii-;  already  bought  his  provisions),  and  immediately  afterwards,  he  will  trn 
(iiic  of  the  Department  of  California.  But  he  cannot  verif}-  this,  inasmuch 
as  he  sees  himself  surrounded  by  people  in  whom  he  observes  decided  inten- 
tions of  hosiility. 

I  beg  you  to  send  a  cop}"  of  this  note  to  the  Conunandant  General  D. 
Jose  Castro,  and  I  have  the  honor  to  subscribe  m}self  with  the  greatest 
respect, 

(Signed)  Thomas  O.  Larkin, 

To  Don  Manuel  Diaz,  Alcalde  of  Moiilercy. 

Cai'Taix  Fremon  r  :  I  direct  this  with  the  correspondence  of  thi 
Alcalde  to  the  General,  I  know  not,  if  it  will  arri\e  or  not  in  Nour  posses- 
sion. By  the  I^lacksmith  Joseph  who  formerly  belonged  to  that  Companv 
under  your  command,  I  remit  the  original  of  the  letter  that  I  received. 

l.ICTTEK    KKO.M   THE  CONSUL,  THOMAS  O.   LARKIX,  TO   CAI'TAIX   FRK.MO.M. 
CoXSL'L.\TE  OK  THE  UxiTED  STATES, 

MoxTEREY,  Caijforxia,  March  10.  uS_|.6. 
Sir  :  Your  letter  of  yesterday  I  received  last  night  at  eight  o'clock  ;  1 
thank  you  for  the  same  ;  it  took  from  me  a  weight  of  uneasiness  concern- 
ing your  situation.  The  alcalde  of  Monterey  has  requested  of  me  a  copy  in 
Spanish  of  your  letter.  Not  knowing  what  vou  might  approve  of  in  the 
case,  1  had  some  objection;  on  second  thoughts  I  considered  that  the 
akalde,  having  gi\en  the  courier  a  passport  (without  which  he  would  nut 
go)  for  carrying  of  the  letters  both  ways,  were  made  public,  and  pcopli. 
might  put  a  wrong  construction  on  our  correspondence,  I  gave  it  to  him 
with  the  following  additions.  I  also  considered  the  letter  contained  nothiiv,' 
of  importance  to  keep  secret,  and  now  annex  my  letter  of  this  morninir  tn 
the  alcalde.  As  you  may  not  have  a  cop}-  of  your  letter,  I  send  one.  My 
native  courier  said  he  was  well  treated  by  }()u — that  two  thoiisaud  mai 
c  )iild  not  drive  you.  In  all  cases  of  couriers,  order  vour  men  to  have  iv 
\,()rds  or  hints  with  them,  as  it  is  magnilied.     This  one  said  a  man  pointed 


O.  Larkin. 


•TAIX   FKKMONT. 


TtriRD  EXPEDITION— CORRESPOXDEXCE  WITH  LARKIX.        ^67 

to  a  tree  and  said,  "  There's  your  life; "  he  expected  to  be  led  to  you  biind- 
fokled  ;  says  }'ou  ha\e  sixty-two  men,  well  armed,  etc.,  etc.,  etc. 

You  will,  without  thought  of  expense  or  trouble,  call  on  mc,  or  send  to 
mc.  in  ever\'  case  of  need,  not  only  as  }'our  consul,  but  as  your  friend  and 
countryman.  I  am  yours,  truly, 

(Signed)  Thomas  O.  Larkix. 

To  Captain  y.  C.  Frdiuonf^  United  States  A  rniy. 

EXTRACTS  FROM  LETTERS  OF  CONSUL  LARKIN  TO  THE  SECRETARY 

OF  STATE. 

Consulate  of  the  U.  S.  of  Amkkica, 
Monti:ri:y,  March  27,  184^). 
Sir:  Captain  J.  C  Fremont,  of  the  United  States  Arm}',  arri\e(.l  ai  this 
I'liited  vStates  consular  house  in  Monterey,  on  the  27th  of  January,  1846. 
:vini(  very  anxious  to  join  his  party  of  litty  men  at  the  second  place  of  ren- 
ixzvous,  without  the  settlement,  they  having  missed  the  first  place  by  mis- 
'ake,  he  remained  but  two  days;  in  which  time,  with  myself,  he  Aisited  the 
mnmandant  generv'l,  prefecto,  alcalde,  and  Colonel  Alvarado,  informing 
::icm  that  he  was  si,r\eying  the  nearest  route  from  the  United  States  to  the 
I'lkitic  Ocean.     This  information,  and  that  his  men  were  not  I'uited  Slates 

Idlers,  was  also,  by  myself,  officially  given  to  the  prefecto.  Ilaxing 
'  Inained  funds  and  supplies  from  myself,  he  returned  to  his  camp;  it  being 
vi'll  known  in  Monterey  that  he  was  to  return,  when  he  collected  his  men. 
•^ mie  fifteen  or  twenty  days  after  this.  Captain   Fremont,  with  his  party, 

K'amped  at  a  vacant  rancho  belonging  to  Captain  Fisher  (about  ninetx' 

iles  from  here),  to  recruit  his  men  and  animals.  From  there  he  proceeded 
•jiwards   Santa    Cruz,    making  sliort    joiu'neys.     On  the   3d  of    March  he 

'.camped  on  the  rancho  of  Mr.  ill.  P.  llartnell,  where  he  received  letters 
nom  the  general  and  prefecto,  ordering  him  out  of  the  countr}-,  and  to  obey 
::ie  order  without  any  pretext  whatever,  or  immediate  measures  would  be 
;akcn  to  compel  him  to  do  so.  This,  not  corresponding  with  assurances 
'.vceived  at  Montere}',  it  was  not  answered,  and  he  ga\e  orders  to  hoist  the 
I'nited  States  flag  the  next  morning,  as  the  only  protection  his  men  were  to 
!">ikto.  From  the  7th  to  the  loth  of  ^larch,  they  fortified  their  camp  with 
a  breastwork  of  logs.  Encamped  on  a  high  hill,  which  commanded  a  \  iew 
"' the  surrounding  country,  they  could  see  (with  the  use  of  spy-glasses)  the 
,'cneral  and  his  troops,  munbering  about  two  hundred  men,  at  their  camp. 
::i  the  Mission  of  St.  John's,  preparing  their  cannon.  On  the  yth  inst.,  I  sent 
liuplicate  letters;  one  by  an  American,  who  lost  his  papers,  and  the  other 
-y  a  Californian,  to  Captain  Fremont,  informing  him  of  the  movements  of 
the  Californians.  The  California  courier  returned  to  the  consulate  in  about 
^'Hc  or  ten  Iiours,  bringing  a  letter  from  Captain  h'remont  iia\ing  tra\ellrd 


\m 


'fr 


I  n 


468 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMUA  i: 


t    1 


^   I -I 


i^ill 


ii, 


V 


i  1 1  ■. 


i;:;f;il! 


riifi: 


in  that  time  sixty  miles.  He  reported  being  well  treated  by  Capuiin 
Fremont  and  his  men  ;  and  that  two  thousand  of  his  country  men  would  not 
be  sufficient  to  compel  him  to  leave  the  country^  although  his  party  was  so 
smalt.  At  the  earnest  request  of  the  alcalde  for  a  translation  of  Captain 
Fremont's  letter,  it  was  <iiven,  and  immediately  despatched  to  the  <i;cncial 
at  St.  John's  ;  and  one  also  to  the  governor  of  the  Puebla  of  Los  Anydcs. 
Tlie  general  informed  the  alcalde  on  the  night  of  the  loth  instant,  that  Cap- 
tain Fremont  had  left  his  encampment,  and  that  he  (the  general)  would 
pursue  and  attack  him  the  first  opportunity,  and  chastise  him  for  hoist- 
ing a  foreign  flag  in  California.  In  the  postscript  of  the  same  letter,  the 
general  stated  that  Captain  Frdmont  had  crossed  a  small  ri\er,  and  was 
then  about  three  miles  distant  from  them;  but  the  general  made  no  prcp- 
;iration  to  follow  him.  On  the  morning  of  the  iith,  General  Castro 
sent  John  Gilro}-,  an  Englishman,  long  resident  in  this  country,  to  make 
offers  of  arrangement  to  Captain  Fr^-mont.  On  his  arri\  al  at  the  camp- 
ground, he  found  Captain  Fr£*mont  had  left  that  morning  with  his  partv; 
the  camp-fires  were  still  burning.  He  found  in  the  camp  the  staff  used  for 
the  flag,  tent-poles  (cut  on  the  spot),  some  old  clothes,  and  two  old  and  use- 
less pack-saddles  which  the  Californifns  have  magnified  into  munitions  ot 
war.  General  Castro  informed  his  party  that  he  had  received  various  me.-- 
sages  from  the  camp  of  Captain  Fremont,  threatening  to  exterminate  tlic 
Californians,  etc.  (but  will  hardly  name  his  messengers,  nor  did  thcv  put 
any  confidence  in  it  themselves).  From  the  iith  to  the  13th,  the 
natives  had  returned  to  their  respective  homes,  to  resume  their  customarv 
occupation.  A  few  people  that  were  ordered  to  march  from  San  Franeisi,) 
to  join  the  general  at  his  camp,  returned  to  their  homes.  On  the  12th.  a 
proclamation  was  put  up  by  the  general  in  the  billiard-room  (not  the  usual 
place),  informing  the  inhabitants  that  a  band  of  highwaymen  ("  bandoleros") 
under  Captain  Fremont,  of  the  United  States  Arm\-,  had  come  within  the 
towns  of  this  department;  and  that  he,  with  two  hundred  patriots,  had 
driven  them  out,  and  sent  them  into  the  back  country.  Some  of  the  otlieers 
of  the  two  hundred  patriots  (and  more  were  expected  to  join  them )  arrived 
in  Monterey,  and  reported  tliat  tlie  cowards  had  nm,  and  that  they  had 
driven  them  to  the  Sacramento  River;  some  added  that  they  drove  them 
into  the  bullrushes,  on  the  plains  of  the  Sacramento;  and  that,  in  their 
haste,  they  had  left  some  of  their  best  horses  behind.  The  horses  proved 
to  be  those  belonging  to  the  Californians  themselves,  and  had  strayed  into 
Captain  Fremont's  band  (being  an  every-day  occurrence  in  California),  and 
on  raising  camp,  they  were  turned  out  and  left  behind.  Instead  of  the 
Americans  being  driven  out  of  the  country,  they  travelled  less  distance,  for 
three  or  four  days,  than  the  natives  did  in  returning  to  Monterey;  moving 
from  four  to  six  miles  per  day,  in  order  to  recruit. 


THIRD  EXPEDITION— CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  LARKIN.        ^6n 

Consulate  of  thk  U.  S.  of  America, 

MONTEKEY,    April    2,    1 846. 

Sir:  In  givintj;  my  first  information  to  the  department  respecting  Cap- 
tain Fremont's  arri\al  in  California,  I  did  not  anticipate  such  an  extensiv  e 
correspondence  as  it  has  now  reached.  Caj^itain  I'remont  was  well  recci\  cd 
in  this  place,  and  to  the  last  day  we  heard  of  him,  by  the  natives  individual!}', 
who  sold  him  provisions,  and  liked  his  presence.  During  his  encampment, 
thii;v  or  forty  miles  from  here,  despatclies  were  received  bv  the  command- 
ant, (jcneral  Jose  Castro  (a  native  of  Monterey),  from  Mexico,  ordering  him 
to  drive  Captain  Fremont  out  of  this  department;  which  order,  with  one 
huiulred  and  seventy  or  two  hundred  men  present,  and  o\x'r  one  hundred 
ni.f.c  daily  expected,  he  pretended  to  execute.  Captain  Fremont  left  hi-. 
camp  a  few  hours  after  he  received  the  undersigned's  letter  of  the  ytli  of 
Maixli  (not  from  fright  of  (leneral  Castro),  as  he  had  been  preparing  the 
week  before  to  travel.  It  is  sujiposed  he  h;is  gone  to  Santa  Barbara,  where 
aa  American  was  sent  b}'  the  undersigned  in  Februar}-,  with  funds  and  jiro- 
visions  for  his  use.  From  there  he  proceeds  on  his  journey,  according  to 
h's  instructions  from  his  department  in  Washington.  Although  from  llie 
corrcsponden-e  i^;  ma}'  appear  tliat  in  the  centre  of  a  strange  country,  among 
a  whole  peo])le  with  real  or  apparent  hostile  intentions  towards  him,  thr.t 
Captain  Fremont  was  in  much  danger,  it  can  be  believed  that  he  was  onl}- 
annoyed.  ^Vhether  lie  will  \  i>it  Monterev  after  this  unexpected  ;iffair  cr 
not,  is  uncertain. 

1  lie  undersigned  has  not  supposed,  during  the  whole  affair,  that  General 
Castro  wished  to  go  after  C-ptain  Fremont,  and  was  ver}-  conlident  that 
with  all  California  he  would  not  ha\  e  atlackeu  iiim,  e\  en  had  he  been  .  r.:e 
of  dostnning  the  whole  pa.rtN',  as  dve  times  their  number  could  liaxe  t;:kei-i 
liijir  place  before  the  exjK'cted  battle.  Captain  Fremont  received  verbal 
applications  from  English  and  Americans  to  join  his  party,  and  could  h;;\e 
mastered  as  many  men  as  the  natives.  He  was  careful  not  to  do  --o. 
Although  he  discharged  five  or  six  of  his  men,  he  took  no  others  in  llieir 
place.  On  the  return  of  (jcncral  Castro,  he  published  a  fiaming  proclama- 
tion to  the  citizens,  informing  them  that  a  band  of  bandoleros  (highwa}nien 
or  freebooters),  under  Captain  Fremont  of  the  Ignited  States  Arm}-,  had 
come  into  this  district;  but  with  the  companv  of  two  hundred  patriots  he 


lad  d 


men 


tl: 


cm  ;l^^■a^ 


;incl 


IKV 


A  h 


IS   ( 


■omn.anions  and  countr\'men  to  be 


alw- 


ays reatly  to  repel  others 


)f  th 


e  same  class. 


'Vh 


is  proclamation  was 


missing,  from  the  place  it  was  put  up,  on  the  third  da}-, 


■I  .  f; 


I : !    ^  ! 


ill  I 


!l 


4 


From  the  foregoing  series  of  letters  it  appears  that  under  date  of  March 
9th  Mr.  Larkin  addressed  a  letter  to  the  commander  of  any  American  ship 
of  war  in  San  Bias  or  Mazatlan;  setting  out  the  existing  circumstances  at 


i«w[ii||i-!"i 


47" 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE-JOliy  CHARLES  FR/CMOXT. 


that  date,  and  askin<;  that  a  sloop  of  war  be  despatched  to  Mcntercy  from 
Mazatlan  on  the  receipt  of  his  letter,  which  Wi'.s  sent  open  to  Mr.  Parrott,  ciur 
Consul  at  Mazatlan. 

In  it  he  mentions  niy  arrival  in  California,  and  my  \  isit  with  himself  tn 
the  eonimandin_i(  ij^eneral  and  other  authorities  at  Monterey  with  the  object 
of  obtaininj;  permission  to  recruit  my  party  and  jnuchase  supplies  in  tlir 
settlements — that  the  permission  applied  for  was  granted,  but  that  aftcrwan.'; 
General  Castro  had  recei\ed  from  Mexico,  by  the  "Hannah,"  positive  or- 
ders to  drive  Captain  Fr(5mont  from  the  country — that  at  the  time  of  hi> 
writinjij  I  was  encamped  about  ei^ht  lea<,aies  from  Montere\-,  resting-  nn 
animals — that  three  hundred  men  would  be  ready  on  the  day  followini;-  tn 
drive  me  out  of  the  department,  and  shou.d  this  intention  be  carried  (ui; 
there  would  be  much  bloodshed,  as  my  party  consisted  of  well-armed  ain! 
determined  men,  ha\in<^'  e\  cry  conridence  in  themselves  and  in  their  emr. 
mander.  And  further,  that  I  had  intended  to  leave  durini,^  the  week,  hi.- 
mii^ht  not  now  be  willing',  as  the  people  wish  to  force  me,  and  that  if  there 
should  be  a  tight  between  the  Californians  and  myself,  the  American  residcnt^ 
were  under  apprehensions  for  their  safety  afterward. 


it 


\  it 


H       •  '\i 


i'l't: 


.*-!     .     Ij 


il'        1 


t:::l 


m 


hu 


Subsequently  to  these  proceedings  I  learned  through  the  Prussian  Min- 
ister at  Washington,  Haron  Gerolt,  of  this  intended  hostile  action  against  nie 
by  the  Mexican  Government. 

Descending  the  southeastern  side  of  the  ridge  we  halted  for  the  niirht  oi 
a  stream  about  three  miles  from  the  camp  of  (icneral  Castro,  a  few  mile> 
from  our  fort.  The  next  day  we  resimied  our  route,  and  emerging  into  the 
valley  of  the  San  Joaquin  on  the  iith  we  found  almost  a  siuumer  tem- 
perature and  the  coiuitry  clothed  in  the  floral  beauty  of  spring.  Tra\  elliiiL; 
by  short  stages  we  reaefied  the  Towalumne  River  on  the  evening  of  the 
14th.     Hy  observation,  in  latitude  ,37"  25'  53",  and  longitude  120°  35'  y^". 

On  the  2 1st  we  entered  the  Sacramento  valley,  and  on  the  22d  encamped 
at  a  favorite  spot  opposite  the  house  of  Mr.  Grimes.  As  already  mentioned, 
his  house  was  not  far  from  Sutter's  Fort.  We  remained  se\eral  days  here 
on  the  American  River,  to  recruit  our  animals  on  the  abundant  ran<;e 
between  the  Sacramento  and  the  hills. 

On  the  24th  we  broke  up  camp  with  the  intention  of  making  an  exam- 
ination of  the  lower  Sacramento  valley,  of  which  I  had  seen  but  little  above 
Sutter's  Fort.  I  left  tlie  American  River  ten  miles  above  its  mouth;  travel- 
ling a  little  east  of  north  in  the  direction  of  the  Bear  River  settlements.  The 
road  led  among  oak  timber,  over  ground  slightly  undulating,  covered  with 
grass  intermingled  with  flowers. 

At  sunrise  on  the  25th  the  temperature  was  a  few  degrees  above 
the  freezing  pcnnt  with  an  easterly  wind  and  a  clear  sky. 


^  h>.,. 


he  Prussian  Mir 


.1  for  the  ni<:ht  (i:i 
istro,  a  few  inilLS 


a  summer  toni- 
•ing.     TravcllinL;' 


decrees  above 


THIRD  KXPF.niTION.—NEAL'S  GJOD  LUCK. 


A\ 


III  about  thirty  miles'  travel  to  the  north,  we  reached  the  Keyser  rancho, 
on  Bear  River;  an  affluent  to  Feather  River,  the  largest  tributary  of  the 
Sacramento.  The  route  lay  over  an  undulating  eountr}— more  so  as  our 
cdiirse  brought  us  nearer  the  mouiuains — wooded  with  oaks  and  shrubbery 
in  blossom,  with  small  prairies  inter\  ening.  Many  plants  were  in  tlower. 
;i;ul  among  them  the  California  poppy,  unusually  magnificent.  It  is  the 
characteristic  bloom  of  Cali/oruia  at  this  season,  and  the  Bear  River 
bottoms,  near  the  hills,  were  covered  with  it.  The  blue  fields  of  tiie 
iKiiiopln  la  and  this  golden  popp}-  represent  fairly  the  skies  and  gold  of 
Califiirnia. 

I  was  riding  quietly  along  with  Godey  through  the  oak  groves,  the  party 
bciiiij;  several  miles  off  nigher  to  the  hills,  wiien  we  discovered  two  Inilian 
wiimcn  busily  occupied  among  the  trees  on  the  top  »jf  a  hill,  gathering  plants 
or  clover-grass  into  their  conical  baskets.  Taking  advantage  of  the  trees 
we  bad  nearly  reached  the  top  of  the  hill,  thinking  to  surprise  these  quick- 
cveil  beings.  Reaching  the  top  we  found  nothing  there  except  the  baskets 
—apparently  suddenly  dropped  and  the  grass  spilled  out.  There  were  sev- 
eral bushes  of  a  long-stemmed,  grass-like  shrub,  and  searching  around  to  see 
what  had  become  of  them,  we  discovered  two  pairs  of  naked  feet  sticlving 
out  just  above  the  top  of  the  bushes. 

At  the  shout  we  raised  two  girls  to  whom  the  feet  belonged  rolled  out 
of  the  bushes  into  which  they  had  only  time  to  dive  as  we  neared  tb  ■  top  of 
the  hill,  thinking  perhaps  that  we  had  not  seen  them.  They  were  but 
little  alarmed  and  joined  in  the  laugh  we  had  at  their  ostrich-like  idea  :>f 
hilling.  It  appeared  that  they  belonged  to  a  village  not  far  away  towards 
the  hills.  Twanging  around  in  that  beautiful  climate,  gathering  where  tiiev 
had  not  the  trouble  to  sow,  the.se  people  had  at  that  time  their  life  of  tho'. 
oui,'h  enjoyment.  The  oaks  and  pines  and  grasses  gave  them  abunda.nt 
vegetable  food,  and  game  was  not  shy. 

We  crossed  several  small  streams,  and  found  the  ground  miry  from 
the  recent  rains.  The  temperature  at  four  in  the  afternoon  was  70",  and 
at  sunset  58",  with  an  easterly  wind,  and  the  night  bright  and  clear. 

The  morning  of  the  26th  was  clear,  and  warmer  than  usual  ;  the  wind 
southeasterly,  and  the  temperature  40°.  We  tra\elled  across  the  vallev 
plain,  and  in  about  sixteen  miles  reached  Feather  River  at  twenty  miles 
from  its  junction  with  the  Sacramento,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Yitbcu  so 
.ailed  from  a  villasije  of  Indians  who  live  on  it.  The  river  has  high  banks 
—twenty  or  thirty  feet — and  was  here  one  hundred  and  fifty  \ards  wide,  a 
deep,  navigable  stream.  The  Indians  aided  us  across  the  river  with  canoes 
:ind  small  rafts.  Extending  along  the  bank  in  front  of  the  village  was  a 
lange  of  wicker  cribs,  about  twelve  feet  hi^h,  partly  tilled  with  what  is 
there  the  Indians'  staff  of  life —acorns.     A  collection  of  huts,  shaped  like 


Ei  i 


V\\\ 


\:      . 


¥ 


''\  if 


47^ 


MEMOIRS  01'  MY  LIIE—JOIIN  CHARLES  ERKMON 


if  \ 


befj-hives,  wilh  naked  Indians  sunnin<jf  tliomsclves  on  the  tops,  and  thesu 
act)rn  crihs,  arc  the  prominent  objects  in  an  Indian  \  illa^'c. 

There  is  a  tine  farm,  or  rancho,  on  the  Yuba,  stocked  with  ahmit  thiic 
thous'ind  head  of  cattle,  and  cultivated  principally  in  wheat,  with  soiiu' 
other  grains  and  vejjtetables,  which  arc  caried  by  means  of  the  livir  to  a 
market  at  San  Francisco.  Mr.  CJordua,  a  native  of  German\',  whd  i, 
proprietor  of  the  place,  informed  me  that  his  a\era<^e  harvest  of  wheat  was 
twenty-ti\  e  bushels  to  the  acre,  which  he  supposetl  would  be  ahout  tlio 
product  of  the  wheat  lands  in  the  Sacramento  valley.  The  labor  on  this 
wwX  other  farms  in  the  valle}'  is  jterformed  in'  Indians. 

'J'he  temperature  here  was  74"  at  two  in  the  afternoon,  71'  at  four,  'ind 
6(/  at  sunset,  with  a  northeasterly  wind  and  a  clear  sky. 

At  sunrise  of  the  271I1  the  temperature  was  42",  clear,  with  a  nortluMstci!-, 
wind.  We  travelled  northwardly,  up  the  riyiit  bank  of  the  ri\  er,  wliiili  w;,- 
wooded  wilh  lar^e  white  and  eNeri^reen  oaks,  interspersed  \\  ilh  thiikets  i ' 
shrubbery  in  full  bloom.  This  was  a  pleasant  journc}'  of  twentN-se\en  mikv, 
and  we  encamped  at  the  bend  of  the  river,  where  it  turns  from  the  eoursi- 
across  the  valley  to  run  southerl}'  to  its  junction  with  the  Sacramento.  Tlio 
thernioiucter  at  sunset  \v:is  (■>-j°^  sky  partially  clouded,  with  southe;lv  wind. 

The  thermometer  at  sunrise  on  the  2Slh  was  at  45"  5',  wilh  a  northeast- 
erly wind.  The  rorul  was  over  an  open  plain,  with  a  few  small  sloiitrhs  cr 
creeks  that  do  not  reach  the  river.  After  tra\elling  about  fifteen  miles,  wc 
encamped  on  BiiHc  Creek,  a  be;nitiful  stream  of  clear  water  about  fiftv  \ard-. 
witle,  \\\y\\  a  bokl  current  running  all  the  year.  It  has  larye,  fertile  but- 
toms,  wooded  with  open  L;-roves,  and  having  a  luxuriant  growth  of  jKa  vine 
among  the  grass.  The  oaks  here  were  getting  into  general  bloom.  I'inc 
ranchos  have  been  selected  on  both  sides  of  the  streain,  and  slocked  w'v'x 
cattle,  some  of  which  were  now  very  fat.  A  rancho  here  is  ownetl  by  Xe;!i. 
V  ho  formerh'  belonged  to  mv  exploring  ]\'irty.  It  may  be  remeiriluiv.l 
that  in  mv  last  expedition  I  had  avceded  to  his  request  to  be  left  at  Suite;'-. 
where  he  was  offered  high  wage^,  with  a  certain  prospect  of  betterment. 
Vv-here  good  mechanics  were  in  great  request.  He  was  a  skilful  black- 
smith, .and  had  been  and  was  very  r.;  eful  to  me.  as  our  horses'  feet  wero 
one  of  the  first  cares.  But  his  uniform  good  conduct  rendered  him  wnrtliv 
of  any  favor  I  could  grant,  and  he  was  accordingly  left  at  Sutter's  when  wo 
resumed  our  march  homeward.  In  the  brief  time  which  had  elapsed  he 
had  succeeded  in  becoming  a  prospering  stockman,  with  a  good  rancho. 
There  is  a  raiichcria  ( Indian  village)  near  by,  and  some  of  the  Indians 
gladly  ran  races  for  the  head  and  offals  of  a  fat  cow  which  had  been  pre- 
sented to  us.  Thev  were  evtirely  naked.  The  thermometer  at  two  in  the 
afternoon  was  at  70",  two  hours  later  at  74°,  and  65°  at  sunset;  the  wind 
east,  and  the  sky  clear  only  in  the  west. 


-m  \ 


0  -^ 


Wi  ;, 


f  •■ 


.'  tops,  and  these 

with  about  tliivo 
vheat,  with  sonu' 
)f  the  rivrr  to  ;i 
Tcrman}-.  whu  i- 
vest  of  wheat  \v;b 
ulcl  be  about  the 
rhe  hibor  on  thi^ 

I,  71'  at  four,  ;md 

itb  a  northeaster! V 
e  ri\  er.  whieh  wa- 
1  w  itli  thiekets  ct 
u'cnty-seven  mile- 
IS  froiVi  the  eoarn 
Sacramento.     Tlie 
b  southerly  winci. 
,  witli  a  northeast- 
v  small  slouu'hs  rr 
It  fifteen  miles,  we 
r  about  fiftv  yards 
larux',  fertile  hut- 
jrowth  of  -pea  vine 
ral  bloom.     I'irc 
and  stocked  \vi;'; 
s  owned  by  Xe;il, 
be   rememhirc." 
x:  left  at  Surai'^. 
ct  of  betterr.H'iit, 
s  a   skilful  hi;ick- 
horses'  feet  were 
dered  him  worthy 
Sutter's  when  we 
h  bad  elapsed  he 
h  a  good  ranehc. 
lie  of  the  Indians 
iich  had  been  pre- 
icter  at  two  in  the 
sunset;  the  wind 


THIRD  F.XPEDITIOX.—ABUXDAXCE  OF  SALMOX. 


47.? 


The  temperature  at  sunrise  the  next  day  was  50°,  with  cumuh  in  the  south 
f.nd  west,  which  left  a  clear  sky  at  nine,  with  a  northwest  wind,  and  teni- 
ixratiiix'  of  <'>4".  We  travelled  twenty  miles,  and  encamped  on  Pine  Creek, 
another  fine  stream,  with  bottoms  of  fertile  land,  woo'ied  with  {proves  of 
l;ir"e  and  handsome  oaks,  some  attaining  to  six  feet  in  diameter,  and  forty 
to  seventy  feet  in  height.  At  four  in  the  afternjon  the  thermometer 
sliowed  74"  and  64°  at  sunset;  and  the  sky  cleai,  except  in  the  horizon. 

M.\i<e'H  30. — The  sun  rose  in  masses  of  clouds  over  the  eastern  moun- 
tains. A  plea.sant  morning,  with  a  sunrise  temperature  of  46°  5',  and  some 
iimsaiiitoes — never  seen,  it  is  said,  in  the  coast  country;  but  at  seasons  of 
hiijh  water  abundant  and  venomous  in  the  bottoms  of  the  Joaquin  and  Sac- 
ramento. On  the  tributaries  nearer  the  mountains  but  few  are  seen,  and 
those  go  with  the  sun.  Continuing  up  the  \alley,  we  crossed  in  a  short 
distance  a  l.irge  wooded  creek,  having  now  about  tliirty-live  feet  breadth  of 
water.  Ouv  road  was  over  an  upland  prairie  of  the  Sacramento,  having  a 
'ellowish,  gravelly  soil,  generally  two  or  three  miles  from  the  river,  and 
twelve  or  fifteen  from  the  foot  of  the  eastern  mountains.  On  the  west  it 
was  twenty-live  or  thiity  miles  to  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  which  here 
make  a  bed  of  high  anU  oi  .jken  ranges,  hi  the  afternoon,  about  half  a 
mile  above  its  mouth,  we  encamped  on  Deer  Creek,  another  of  these 
beautiful  tributaries  to  the  Sacramento.  It  has  the  usual  broad  and  fertile 
bdttoni-lands  common  to  these  streams,  wooded  with  groves  of  oak  and  a 
large  s}camore  (^plafaiins  occidciital/'s),  distinguished  b}'  bearing  its  balls 
in  strings  of  three  to  five,  and  peculiar  to  California,  Mr.  Lassen,  a  native 
(if  Germany,  has  established  a  rancho  here,  which  he  has  stocked,  and  is 
gradually  bringing  into  cultivation.  Wheat,  as  generally  throughout  the 
north  country,  gives  large  returns  ;  cotton,  planted  ia  the  way  of  experi- 
ment, was  not  injured  by  frost,  and  succeeded  well  ;  and  he  has  lately 
ilmted  a  vine3'ard,  i;n-  which  the  Sacramento  valley  is  considered  to  be 
singularly  well  adapted.  The  seasons  are  not  yet  sufficiently  understood, 
and  too  little  has  been  done  in  agriculture,  to  afford  certain  knowledge  of 
the  capacities  of  the  country.  This  farm  is  in  the  40th  degree  of  latitude  ; 
our  position  on  the  river  being  in  39"  57'  00",  and  longitude  121°  56'  44" 
west  from  Greenwich,  and  ele\ation  abo\e  the  sea  five  hundred  and  sixty 
feet.  About  three  miles  above  the  mouth  of  this  stream  are  the  first  rapids 
—the  present  head  of  na\igation — in  the  Sacramento  River,  which,  from  the 
rapids  to  its  mouth  in  the  bay.  is  more  than  two  hundred  miles  long,  and  in- 
creasing in  breadth  from  one  hundred  and  fifty  \ards  to  six  hundred  yards 
in  the  lower  part  of  its  course. 

During  si.\.  days  that  we  remained  here,  from  the  30th  March  to  the  5th 
April,  the  mean  temperature  was  40°  at  sunrise,  $2°.z,  at  nine  in  the  morning, 
y,".!  at  noon,  59^4  at  two  in  the  afternoon,  58".8  at  four,  and  52"  at  sunset  ; 


t  I, 


474 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LUE-  JOHN  CHARLES  IREMOXT. 


at  the  corresponding-  times  the  dew  point  was  at  37°.o,  4i°.o,  38°.!,  Kr.6 
44°.  9,  40°.  5;  and  tlie  moisture  in  a  cubic  foot  of  air  2.838  grs.,  5.1-0  ojs 
^•9.55  y'^-'  .5-",H  >ii'"^-  ,v7^'f'  M'^M  3-i5"  S'"^-  respectively.  Much  cloudx- 
weather  and  some  showers  of  rain,  during  this  interval,  considerabh  rcdincd 
the  tempeiature,  which  rose  with  fine  veather  on  the  5th.  Salmon  was  n(nv 
abundant   in  the  Sacramen.N).     Thosii  Vtiiich  we  obtained  were 


'vnerallv 


between  three  and  foin-  feet  in  length,  and  appeared  to  be  of  two  distinct 
kinds.  It  is  said  that  as  man\  as  four  different  kinds  ascend  the  river  at 
different  periods.  The  great  abundance  in  which  this  fish  is  found  "-ivcs  it 
an  important  place  among  the  resources  of  the  country.  The  salmon 
crowd  in  immense  numbers  up  the  Umpqua,  Tlamath,  and  Trinity  Rivers, 
and  into  every  little  river  and  creek  on  the  coast  north  of  the  Bay  of  San 
Francisco  ;  and  up  the  San  Joaquin  River,  into  the  Stanislaus,  beyond  which 
the  Indians  say  tl-.c}'  do  not  go.  Entering  all  the  rivers  of  the  coast  far  to 
the  north,  and  fuiding  their  way  up  into,  the  .-smaller  branches  which  pene- 
trate the  forests  of  the  interior  country,  climbing  up  cataracts  and  lesser 
falls,  this  fish  had  a  large  share  in  supporting  the  Indians — who  raised 
nothing,  but  li\  ed  on  what  Nature  ga\"e.  "  A  Salmon-Water,"  as  tliev 
named  it,  was  a  valuable  possessio.i  to  a  tribe  or  village,  and  jealouslv  pre- 
served as  an  inheritance.  I  found  the  "  Salmon-waters  "  in  tiie  forests  aloni' 
the  eastern  flank  of  the  Cascade  range  below  the  Columbia  River. 

In  the  evening  of  the  5th  we  resumed  our  journey  northward,  and  en- 
camped on  a  little  creek  near  the  Sacramento,  where  an  emigrant  from  "the 
States  "  was  establishing  himself,  and  had  already  built  a  house.  It  is  a 
handsome  place,  wooded  with  groves  of  oak,  and  along  the  creek  are  svea- 
more,  ash,  cottonwood,  and  willow.  The  day  was  fine,  with  a  nortluvest 
wind. 

The  temperature  at  sunrise  the  next  day  (April  6th)  was  42",  with  a 
northeasterly  wind.  \Ve  continued  up  the  Sr.vramento,  which  we  crossed 
in  canoes  at  a  farm  on  the  right  bank  of  the  ri\  ei-.  The  Sacramento  was 
here  about  one  hundred  and  forty  yards  wide,  and  with  the  actual  st.iuvof 
water,  which  I  was  informed  continued  several  months,  na\  igahl  ■  tor  a 
steandioal.  ^\'e  encamped  a  few  miles  above,  on  a  creek  svooded  |ir  nei- 
pally  with  Ir.rge  oaks.  (Jrass  was  good  and  abundant,  with  wild  oats  and 
pea  vine  in  the  bottoms.  'I'he  day  was  line,  with  a  cool  northwesteriy 
bree/e,  which  had  in  it  the  air  of  the  high  mountains.  The  wild  oats  here 
were  not  \el  he.'uled. 

The  sr.ow'c  peak  of  Shastl  bore  directh'  north,  showing  out  hii;h  above 
the  other  mountains.  Temperature  at  sunset  57  ,  with  .n  west  wind  and  sky 
partly  clouiled. 

Ai'Kii,  7.  -The  temperjiture  at  sunrise  was  37",  with  a  nudist  air :  ai"'! 
a  fainth'  clouded  sky  indicated  that  the  wind  was  southerly  along  tluMuast. 


iJ. 


CMOXT. 

4i°.o,  3SM,  3,/,6. 
;8  grs.,  :y\-i)  o-rs„ 
y.     Mikii  cloLu'iv 
isiik'nibly  reduced 
Salmon  was  now 
:d  were  generally 
be  of  two  distinit 
scene!  the  river  at 
ill  is  found  yivcs  it 
itrv.     The  salmon 
nd  Trinity  Rivers, 
of  the  Bay  of  San 
laus,  beyond  which 
of  the  coast  far  to 
inches  which  pern.- 
ataracts  and  Icssu- 
idians — who  raised 
in-Water,"  as  tlie;/ 
,  and  jealously  pro- 
in  t.ie  forests  alonj; 
.bia  River, 
northward,  and  en- 
migrant  from  "  the 
t  a  house.     It  is  ;i 
the  creek  are  syea- 
,  with  a  northwest 

ih)  was  42",  with  a 

,  which  we  crossed 

le  Sacramento  was 

the  actual  sta,uv..f 

s.    na\igahl  •  tor  a 

eek  aooded  pr 'le:- 

with  wild  oats  and 

cool    iiiirthwester;} 

The  wild  oats  here 


ling  out  inj;h 


abovi 


west  wind  and  sky 

h  a  moist  air  ;  ar- 
•tlv  alon-r  the  coast. 


THIRD  EX r r.:, ITIOX.—MOLW ■,'■  LJXX  AAD  MOUXT  SJf.lSTA.      j^-t^ 

"\Ve  travelled  toward  the  Shastl  peak,  the  mountain  ranges  on  ho\\\  sides,  of 
the  valleys  being  high  and  rugged,  and  snow-covered.  Some  remarkable 
peaks  in  tlie  Sierra,  to  the  eastward,  are  called  /he  Sisters,  and,  nearly  oppo- 
site, the  Coast  Range  shows  a  prominent  peak,  to  which  in  remembrance  of 
inv  friend  Senator  Linn,  1  ga\c  the  name  Mol NT  Linn,  as  an  enduring 
mununient  to  recall  the  prolonged  ser\  ices  rendered  by  him  in  secuiing  to 
the  country  our  Oregon  coast.  I  trust  this  reason  will  protect  it  from 
change.  These  giant  monuments,  rising  above  the  country  and  seen  from 
afar,  keep  alive  and  present  with  the  people  the  memory  of  patriotic  men, 
and  so  continue  their  good  services  after  death.  Mount  Linn  and  Mount 
Sliastl  keep  open  to  the  passing  glance  each  an  interciing'  page  of  the 
countrv's  liistory — the  one  recording  a  successful  struggle  for  the  ocean 
houndary  which  it  oxerlooks,  the  other  the  stor}-  of  a  strange  people  passed 
awav.  And  so,  too,  these  natural  towers  call  attention  from  the  detail  of 
daily  occupation  to  the  larger  duties  which  should  intluence  the  lives  of 
men. 

Leaving  the  Sacramento,  at  a  stieam  called  R<'d  Bank  L'reek,  we  entered 
in  a  high  and  somewhat  broken  upland,  timbered  with  at  least  four  \arieties 
A  (laks,  with  iiiansaH/tn  (^arbiifiis  J/e//z/es//):\.nd  other  shrubbery  intersjierscd. 
Tlie  mansauita  is  the  strange  shrub  which  I  met  in  March  of  '44  in  coming 
down  from  the  Sierra  Nevada  to  Sutter's  Fort,  and  which  in  ni)   "ournal  of 
tliat  time  I  described  as  follows:  "  A  new  and  singular  shrub,  \,  Inch  had 
made  its  appearance  since  crossing  the  mountain,  was  very  frequent  to-da}'. 
it  branched  out  near  the  ground,  foiming  a  clump  eight  to  ten  feet  higii, 
with  pale  green  leaves  of  an  oval  form,  and  the  body  and  branches  had  a 
naked  appearance  as  if  stripped    of   the   bark,  which  is  \ery  smooth  and 
thin,  of  a   chocolate   color,   contrasting   well   with   the   pale  green  of   the 
loaves."     Out   of   its  red   berries   the   i    dians  make  a  cider  which,  put   to 
cool  in  the  running  streams,  makes   a   pleasant,  refreshing  drink.     A    re- 
markable species  of  pine,   hax'ig   lea\cs   in  threes  (sometimes  six  to  nine 
inches   hng),    with  bluish  foliage,    and    a   spreading,   oak-shaped    to|>,    was 
scattered  through  the  timber.      I  ha\e  remarked  that  this  tree  grows  lower 
down  the  mountains  than  the  other  pines,  being  found  familiarh  assinialed 
with  oaks,  the   iirst  met  after  leaving  the  open  \  alley-,  and  seeming  to  like 
a  warm   climate.      It   seems   that   even   among  inanimate  things  as.sociatii  m 
levels  ditferences.      Tl  is  tree,  growing  among  oaks   lorgels  its  nai  row  pim- 
iiinn  and  color,  and  take.^  the  spreaded  shape  of  the  oaks,  their  bi-oad  sum- 
niit>,  and  lesser  heights.      Flowers   were  as  usual   abundant.      'I  he  splendid 
^alitornia  poppy  characterized   all    tiie  route  along  the   \alle\-.      A  species 
"f  clover  was   in   bloom,  ;;nd  tlu    Leriii-cl   tiie   nuuisoiiilo  we-xc  beginninir 
til  redden  on  some  trees,  whili'  others  wore  still  in  bloom       W'e  t-nc-imped. 
at  an  elevation  of  about  one  thnu^aiul  feet  abov  c  the  sea.  on  a  large  stream 


m'X' 


Wv: 


m 


111 


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■  . 

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1,        ' 

'1 

1 

1 

r 

-If 
4\ 

476 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMOXT. 


ciiilcd  Cottonwood  Crock,  woocicd  on  the  bottoms  with  oaks,  and  with  cot- 
ton-woods along  the  bed,  whieli  is  sand}'  and  >;ra\elly.  Tlie  water  was  at 
this  time  about  twenty  \ards  wide,  but  is  frequentl)  lifty.  The  face  of  the 
country  traversed  during  the  day  was  gravelly,  and  the  bottoms  of  the  creek 
wliere  we  encamped  ha\c  a  sandy  soil. 

There  are  six  or  seven  rancherias  of  Indians  on  the  Sacramento  River 
between  the  farm  where  we  liad  crossed  the  Sacramento  and  the  mouth  of 
this  creek,  and  man}-  others  in  the  mountains  about  the  heads  of  these 
streams. 

The  next  morning  was  cloudy,  threatening  rain,  but  the  sky  grew  hrigiiter 
as  the  sun  rose,  and  a  southerly  wind  changed  to  northwest,  which  brou<'ht, 
as  it  never  fails  to  bring,  clear  weather. 

We  continued  sixteen  miles  up  the  \  alley,  and  encamped  on  tiie  Sacra- 
mento River.  In  the  afternoon  (April  8th)  the  weather  again  grew  thick, 
and  in  the  evening  rain  began  to  fall  in  the  vallc}'  and  snow  on  the  moun- 
tains. We  were  now  near  the  head  of  the  lower  \  alley,  and  the  face  of  the 
country  and  the  weather  began  sensibly  to  show  the  influence  of  the  rugned 
mountains  which  surround  and  terminate  it. 

The  valley  of  the  Sacramento  is  divided  into  upper  and  lower — the 
lower  two  hundred  miles  long,  the  upper  known  to  the  trappers  as  Pitt 
ri\  cr,  about  one  hundred  and  tifiy  ;  and  the  latter  not  merely  entitled  to 
the  distinction  of  upper,  as  being  higher  up  the  river,  but  also  as  having  a 
superior  elevation  of  some  thousands  of  feet  abi>ve  it.  Tiie  division  is 
stu)ngl\  and  geographically  marked.  The  Shnstl  peak  stands  at  the  head 
of  the  lower  valley,  rising  from  a  base  of  about  one  thousand  feet  out  of  a 
forest  of  heavy  timber.  It  ascends  like  an  immense  colimm  upwards  of 
fourteen  thousand  feet  (nearly  the  height  of  Mont  Blanc),  the  sunnni;  glisten- 
ing with  snow,  and  visible,  from  favorable  points  of  view,  at  a  distance  of  one 
hundred  and  fort}'  miles  down  the  \alle\'.  The  ri\  cr  here,  in  descending  from 
the  upper  valley,  plunges  down  through  a  canon,  f;illing  two  thousand  feet 
in  twenty  miles.  This  upper  valley  is  one  hundred  and  tift\  miles  lonsr, 
h.eavil}'  timbered,  the  climate  and  productions  modified  b}'  its  altitiuk.  it> 
more  noi'thern  position,  and  the  ])ro.\iniit\  and  elexation  of  the  neighborini; 
mountains  covered  with  snow.  It  contains  valle\s  of  arable  land,  and  i^ 
deemed  capable  of  settlement.  Added  to  the  lower  vallc}'.  it  makes  thi 
whole  valley  of  the  Sacramento  tin-ce  hundred  and  lift}  miles  long, 

Ai'KiLg. — At  ten  o'clock  the  rain  which  commenced  the  previous  even- 
ing had  ceased,  and  tlie  clouds  clearing  awa\',  we  boated  the  rive,  and  con- 
tinued oin-  jomnc}'  eastward  toward  the  foot  of  the  Sierra.  The  Sacrament ' 
iiottoms  here  are  broad  and  prettily  wooded,  with  soil  of  a  sandy  tliaractcr, 
Our  way  led  through  Acry  hanilsome,  open  woods,  principally  of  oak\ 
n\ingled  with  a  considerable  quantity  of  the  oak-shaped  pine.     Interspersci! 


liilil 


MONT. 

Ls,  and  with  col- 
lie WalL-r  was  at 
The  face  of  thu 
oms  of  the  eicck 

icramento  Rivur 
mcl  the  mouth  of 
'   heads  of  these 

k}'  i^rew  brighter 
;,  which  brought, 

icd  on  the  Sacra- 
jrain  <rrew  thick, 
ow  on  the  nioun- 
id  the  face  of  the 
ice  of  the  rugged 

and   lower— the 
trappers  as  j-'itt 
iierelv  entitled  l" 
also  as  having  a 
The   division  is 
ands  at  the  head 
and  feet  out  of  a 
imin   upwards  of 
ic  sunnnit  glisten- 
a  distance  of  one 
descending tnnn 
wo  thousand  feet 
fifty  miles  lonir, 
\-  its  altitude,  it- 
the  neighlwrini. 
able  land,  and  i- 
ey,  it  makes  the 
.es  long, 
he  previous  even- 
If  rivc'-,  and  am- 
The  Sacrament'' 
sandy  character, 
incipaily  of  oaks 
ne.     InterspevHi; 


THIRD  EXPEDITION.-WJLD  CATTLE. 


477 


among  these  were  bosquets  or  thickets  of  nninsanUa^  and  an  abundant  white- 
ilowering  shrub,  now  entirely  covered  with  small  blossoms.  The  head  of 
the  valley  here  (lower  valley)  is  watered  by  many  small  streams,  having 
tertile  bottom-lands,  with  a  g^iod  range  of  grass  and  acorns.  In  about  six 
miles  we  crossed  a  creek  twenty  or  twent}-tl\e  feet  wide,  and  several 
miles  farther  descended  into  the  broad  bottoms  of  a  swift  stream  about 
twenty  yards  wide,  called  L'ow  Creek,  so  named  as  being  the  range  of  a 
small  band  of  cattle,  which  ran  off  here  fr<jm  a  party  on  their  way  to  Ore- 
"on.  They  are  entirel}  wild,  and  are  hunted  like  other  game.  A  large 
band  of  antelope  was  seen  in  the  timber,  and  li\e  or  six  deer  came  darting 
through  the  woods.  An  antelope  and  several  deer  were  killed.  There 
appear  to  be  two  species  of  these  deer — both  of  the  kinc'  generally  called 
black-tailed;  one,  a  larger  species  frequenting  the  prairies  and  lower 
^Tou^ds  ;  the  other,  much  smaller,  and  foimd  in  the  mountains  only.  The 
mountains  in  the  nor'heast  were  black  with  clouds  when  we  reached  the 
..reek,  and  very  soon  a  fierce  hailstorm  burst  down  on  us,  scattering  our 
animals  and  covering  the  ground  an  inch  in  depth  with  hailstones  about 
the  size  of  wild  cherries.  The  face  of  the  country  appeared  as  whitened  by 
a  fall  of  sno  ■  ,  ;  1  the  weather  liccame  unpleasantly  cold.  The  evening 
eliised  in  witl;  -n,  and  thunder  rolling  around  the  hills.  Our  elevation 
here  was  between  one  thousand  and  eleven  hundred  feet.  At  sunrise  the 
ne.\t  morning  the  thermometer  was  at  33".  The  surrounding  mountains 
showed  a  continuous  line  of  snow,  and  the  high  peaks  looketl  wintrv. 
Tinrung  to  the  southward,  we  retraced  our  steps  down  the  valley,  and 
a. u lied  Lassen's,  on  Deer  River,  on  the  e\  ening  of  the  iith.  The  Sacra- 
mento bottoms  between  Antelope  and  Deer  River  were  covered  with  oats, 
which  had  attained  their  full  height,  growing  as  in  sown  fields.  The  coim- 
uy  iiere  exhibited  the  maturr  of  spring.  The  California  poppy  was  c\er\ - 
wliere  forming  seed-pods,  and  many  plants  were  in  flower  and  seed  together. 
Snme  varieties  of  clover  were  just  beginning  to  bloom.  By  the  middle  of  the 
rnuiuh  the  seed-vessels  of  the  California  poppy  which,  from  its  characteristic 
abundance,  is  a  prominent  feature  in  the  vegetation,  had  attained  their  full 
size  ;  hut  the  seeds  of  this  and  many  other  plants,  although  fully  formed, 
were  still  green-colored,  and  not  entirely  ripe.  At  this  time  I  obtained  from 
die  San  Joaquin  \alley  seeds  of  the  popji}',  and  otlier  plants,  black  and  fully 
ripe,  while  they  still  remained  green  in  this  part  of  the  Sacramento — the 
effect  of  .1  warmer  ilimate  in  the  valley  of  the  San  Joaquin.  The  mean  tem- 
perature for  fouiteen  days,  froni  the  loth  to  the  24th  of  .\pril,  was  43"  at 
sinirise,  58°  at  nine  in  the  morning,  64°  at  noon,  66°  at  two  in  the  afternoon,  69° 
at  four,  and  5S"  at  sunset  ( latitude  40").  The  thermometer  ranged  at  sun- 
rise from  38°  to  51".  at  four  (which  is  the  hottest  of  those  hours  of  the  day 
\'lien  the  temperature  was  noted)  from  53"  to  S<S".  and  at  simset  from  4()"  to 


It.    , 

■'i;i  :.,i;    I'i 

k 

-1; 

«'■ '•||.| 

;i  •  , 

:  ^i 

:i   : 

c 


>   'fl 


i 


478 


M/iMOlJiS  OF  MY  LJl-E—JOHN  CHARLES  FliiiMOXT. 


I  k 


I 


65°.  The  dew  point  was  4o°.3  at  sunrise,  47°.,^  'it  9  in  the  morning,  ^6°.i 
at  noon,  49°. 2  at  2  in  the  afternoon,  49°. 2  at  4,  and  \ti\b  at  sunset  ;  aiul 
the  quantit}'  of  moisture  in  a  cubie  foot  of  air  at  eorrespondiny  times  \\;;s 
3.104  grs.,  3.8S2  grs.,  3.807  grs.,  4.213  grs.,  4.217  grs.,  3.8S4  grs.,  respect- 
ivelv.  The  winds  tluctuated  between  northwest  and  southeast,  the  tempera- 
ture depending  more  upon  the  state  of  the  sky  than  the  direetion  of  the 
winds — a  clouded  sk}'  always  lowering  the  thermometer  tifteen  or  twentv 
degrees  in  a  short  time.  For  the  greater  number  of  the  days  above  given 
the  sky  was  eo\ered  and  the  atmosphere  frequentl}'  thick  with  rain  at  inter- 
vals from  the  19th  to  the  23d. 

Here  at  Lassen's  I  set  up  the  transit  and  during  the  nights  of  the  14th 
and  i6th  (.Vpril)  obtained  good  obscr\ations  of  moon  culminations  whieh 
established  the  longitude  of  the  phu  e  in  120"  56'  44",  latitude  dhtaincd 
39"  57'  (^4".  This  was  the  third  of  ni}- main  stations  and  the  place  of  ob.Mr- 
vation  w;is  upon  Deer  River  half  a  nnle  above  its  mouth  in  the  Sacrament., 
and  opposite  Lassen's  house. 

On  the  24th  I  left  Lassen's,  intending  to  penetrate  the  country,  aioiiL;- 
the  Cascade  ranges  north  into  Oregon,  and  connect  there  with  the  lino 
of  ni}'  journey  of  '43,  which  lay  up  the  Fall  River  of  the  Columbia  and 
south  to  the  great  saxannah,  or  grass}-  meadow-lake  through  which  liows 
from  among  the  ridges  of  the  Cascade  Mountains  the  principal  tributarv, 
or  rather  the  main  stream  of  the  waters  which  make  the  Tlamath  Lake 
and  River.  It  is  a  timbered  countr}-,  clothed  with  heavy  pine  forests  tli;it 
nourish  man\-  streams. 

Travelling  up  the  Sacramento  over  ground  already  described,  \vc 
reached  the  head  of  the  lower  valley  in  the  evening  i^i"  the  second  day, 
and  in  the  morning  of  the  26th  left  the  Sacramento,  going  up  one  of  the 
many  prettv  little  streams  that  flow  into  the  main  river  around  the 
head  of  the  lower  valley.  On  either  side  low,  steep  ridges  were  covered 
along  their  summits  with  pines,  and  oaks  occupied  the  somewhat  bn)ad 
bottom  of  the  creek.  Snowy  peaks  which  made  the  horizon  on  the 
right  gave  a  cool  tone  to  the  landscape,  and  the  thermometer  showed  ,1 
temperature  of  71",  but  there  was  no  breeze  and  the  air  was  still  and  lint. 
There  were  many  nuis  and  small  streams,  with  much  bottcMU-land,  and 
tiie  abundant  grass  and  acorns,  both  of  excellent  quality,  made  it  a 
favorite  resort  for  game.  The  frecpicnt  iippearanee  of  game  furnished 
excitement,  and  together  with  the  tine  weather,  which  made  mere 
breathing  an  enjoyment,  kept  the  party  in  exhilarated  spirits.  At  our 
encampment  anuMig  oak  gro\'cs  in  the  evening,  we  found  ourselves 
apparently  in  a  bear  garden,  where  the  rough  denizens  resented  our 
intrusion  and  made  a  livel\'  time  for  the  hunters,  who  succeeded  in  kill- 
ing four  of  them  after  we  hnd  ev.enmned.      nui-ing  our  skirmishing  nninnL;- 


TIlIRn  KXI'I:DITI0X.—I  PERFORM  A  SURGICAL  OPERATION. 


479 


H"  morning,  ^G'.i 
>  iit  sunset  ;  and 
:)ndinj;-  times  \v;,n 
S84  grs.,  ruspcL't- 
L'.'ist,  the  tempera- 
;  direction  (i[  the 
lifteen  or  twentv 
days  above  given 
with  rain  at  inter- 

lights  of  the  14111 
ihiiination^  wliieh 
hititude  ohlaineil 
:he  place  of  ()h>ei- 
n  tlie  Sacramentn 

he  country,  aioni;- 
Lire  with  the  line 
the  Columbia  and 
ough  which  tlowii 
rincipal  tributary, 
le  Tlamath  Lake 
pine  forests  tliat 

ly    described,  \ve 
the  second  day, 
ng  up  one  of  the 
iver    around  the 
ges  were  covered 
somewhat  broad 
h(M-i/.on    on  the 
ometer  showed  a 
was  still  and  hot. 
bottom-land,  and 
dity,    made  it  a 
f   game  furnished 
licb    made    mere 
spirits.     At  our 
found    ourselve> 
(MIS    resented  our 
ucceeded   in  kill- 
si  rniishing  anioiii,' 


the  bear  this  afternoon  we  had  overtaken  and  sligiitly  wounded  one, 
just  enough  to  irritate  him.  At  this  moment  Delaware  Charle}\s  horse 
fell  near  by  the  bear.  To  save  Charley  we  had  all  to  close  in  on  the 
hear,  who  was  fortunatel}'  killed  before  he  could  get  the  Delaware.  In 
his  fall  the  hammer  of  his  gun  struck  Charley  on  the  bridge  of  his  nose 
and  broke  it  in  tiie  middle.  We  had  no  surgeon,  but  I  managed  to  get 
it  into  good  shape  and  it  healed  witliout  trace  of  injur}-.  I  was  always 
proud  of  this  surgical  operation,  and  the  Delaware  was  espeei.dly  pleased. 
He  was  a  tine-looking  }'oung  man,  and  naively  \ain  of  bis  handsome 
face,  which  now  had  a  nose  unusual  among  his  people;  the  aquiline 
arch  had  been  broken  to  knit  into  a  clear  straight  line,  of  which  he  became 
very  vain. 

At  sunset  the  weather  was  pleasant,  with  a  temperature  of  56".  I  had 
only  an  obscr\atit)n  for  latitude,  which  put;  the  camp  in  40"  38'  58",  and 
die  ele\  ation  abo\  e  the  sea  was  one  thousand  and  eighty  feet.  The  day 
following  we  found  a  good  way  along  a  dat  ridge;  there  was  a  pretty  stream 
in  a  mountain  '.alley  on  the  right,  and  the  face  of  the  country  was  already 
beginning  to  assume  a  mountainous  character,  wooded  with  mingled  oak 
and  long-leaved  pine,  and  having  a  surface  of  scattered  rocks,  with  grass  or 
tlowers.  among  them  the  three-leaved  poppy,  its  parti-colored  blossoms  wav- 
ing on  ilic  long  stem  above  the  grass,  and  gaining  for  itself  the  name  mari- 
posds,  already  mentioned  because  of  its  resembling  li\ing  butterflies.  I 
speak  often  of  the  grass  and  the  flowers,  but  I  have  learned  to  value  the  one 
and  the  otiier  lends  a  beauty  to  the  scenery  which  I  do  not  like  to  omit,  and 
the  reader  can  always  imagine  for  himself  the  brightness  they  give  when 
once  he  has  had  described  the  glorious  flowers  of  this  country,  where  the 
most  lovely  hues  are  spread  in  fields  over  both  hill  and  plain.  At  noon, 
wlien  we  were  cn)ssing  a  high  ridge,  the  temperature  was  down  to  61",  and 
whei  e  we  encamped  at  an  elevation  of  two  thousand  four  hundred  and  sixty 
leet,  on  a  creek  that  went  roaring  into  the  valley,  the  sunset  temperature 
was  5  J". 

TIk'  next  day  I  continued  up  the  stream  on  which  vv-e  had  slept,  and 
with  it  the  mountain  slope  rose  rapidly,  clothed  with  hea\y  timber.  On 
erossing  one  of  the  high  ridges,  snow  and  the  great  pine  Lamberfiani 
appeared  together,  and  an  liour  before  noon  we  reached  a  pass  in  the 
main  ridge  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  in  an  open  pine  forest  at  an  elevation 
of  onl\'  four  thousand  six  hundred  feet,  where  the  snow  was  in  patches  and 
the  deciduous  oaks  were  mingkxl  with  the  I'inc!,.  The  thermometer  was  at 
50°.  and  we  were  not  aln)vc  the  up|XM-  limit  of  he  oak  region.  This  pass  is 
in  about  the  fortietl:  deg-rve  of  hititude,  and  i:  'u  the  terminating  point  of 
the  nortiiern  link  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  chain,  wiiicb  the  Cascade  range 
takes  up  with  the  link  of  the  Si'uisti  peak.     BetVv'cen  the  points  of  these  links 


■  1; 


Ml 


*  ii; 


I 


mil 


1.1111!  I 


ai;:;  -i 


I.  iHM-' 


m 


I      i 


II 


4  So 


.U/U/O/A'S  OF  MV  LIFE—JOlfX  CHARLES  FREMO\T. 


the  uppor  Sacr.unento  River  breaks  down  on  its  way  to  the  Bay  of  San 
Franciscx>  and  the  Thiniath  River  to  the  sea. 

Goin<i  through  this  pass  and  deseendini^  the  mountain,  we  entered 
into  what  may  be  called  a  basin  or  mountain  valley,  l\in<j  north  and 
south  along  the  ranges  of  the  Caseade  Mountains.  Here  we  found  a 
region  very  different  from  the  valley  of  California.  We  had  left  hehind 
the  soft,  delightful  climate  of  the  coast,  from  which  we  were  cut  off  hv 
the  high,  snow}'  mountains,  and  had  ascended  into  one  resembling  that 
of  the  (.Treat  Jiasin,  and  under  the  influence  of  the  same  elevation  above 
the  sea;  out  more  fertile  and  having  much  forest  land,  and  well  watered. 
The  face  of  the  countiy  was  different  fi'om  that  of  the  valle}'  which  \vc 
had  just  left,  being  open  and  more  spread  into  plain,  in  which  there 
were  frequent  lakes  as  well  as  rivers.  The  soil  itself  is  different;  some- 
times bare.  At  tmies  we  travelled  over  stretches  in  the  forest  where 
the  soil  w;is  a  gra\'  or  yellowish-white  pumice-stone,  like  that  which  I 
have  seen  along  the  Cascade  range  in  travelling  south  from  the  Colum- 
bia River,  wliere  the  soil  was  covered  with  splenc'id  pine  forests,  but 
where  there  was  hardly  a  blade  of  grass  to  be  fov.nd.  W-ry  different 
from  this  the  compact  growth  of  grass  and  flowers  which  belong  to  the 
California  \  allev,  where  the  rich  soil  had  accumulated  the  wash  of  asres 
from  the  mountains,  and  where  tlie  well-watered  land  and  moisture  of 
the  air  combine  to  cover  the  coiuifrv  with  its  uncommon  and  profuse 
vegetation.  The  country  where  we  now  were  was  not  known  to  anv  of 
the  men  with  me,  ami  I  was  not  able  to  communicate  with  a;i\'  of  the 
Indians,  who  in  this  region  were  unfriendly — from  these  1  might  have 
learned  the  names  by  whi<'h  the  natural  features  were  known  to  them, 
Except  in  some  of  its  k\uling  features  1  regarded  this  district  as  not 
within  the  limits  of  fixed  geograjthy,  and  therefore  I  thought  it  weil 
to  give  names  to  these;  to  s(Mne  at  the  time,  and  to  others  afterwaril. 
when  I  came  to  making  up  a  map  of  the  country.  And  this  was  al-o 
necessary,  as  otherwise  1  could  not  conveniently  refer  to  them. 

On  the  20th  of  April  I  encamped  on  the  upper  Sacramento,  aboNc 
Fall    River,   which    is    tributarv    to    it.      I    obtained     obser\ations    here, 


which  gave  for   longitude  1 21"  07'  qi)",  and  for  latitude   40"  si's'  4, 


and 

the  next  lay  again  encampo<:l  on  it  at  tht.-  upper  end  of  a  valley,  to 
which,  from  its  marked  f(vin,  1  gave  tlx'  name  Round  \'a11e\.  I^v  obser- 
vation the  longitude  here  ;  121°  01'  2,^",  latitude  41"  17'  17".  On  the  first 
vk  M«y  I  encamped  on  the  •^Hitheastvrn  end  of  a  lake,  which  afterwards  1 
named  Lake  Rhett  in  frierK-lN  ren>embrance  of  Mr.  Karnwell  Rhett.of  Soutii 
CaroiuBsi,  >«ri*o  is  comnnieciM^it  with  one  (A  the  cNcnts  of  my  life  whicii  brouirht 
with  it  am  Jibidir,<x  satisfaction.  I  ->btaine«.i  observations  here  which  plaoii 
tiis  end  Hk  the  .aiice  in  l!OfViTitui,ic  ic  r"  ;  5'  24",  and  latitude  41°  4S'  4c)' 


THIRD  EXPEDiriOX.—ARCHAMBEAU  LOST. 


4S1 


Tliis  camp  was  some  twcnty-tivc  or  thirty  miles  from  the  la\a  beils, 
nc;ir  which  Major-Cjcneral  Canby  was  killed  by  the  Modocs,  twenty-seven 
vcars  later:  and  when  there  was  some  of  the  hardest  lighting  known  in 
Indian  history  between  them  and  our  troops. 

This  Indian  lighting  is  always  elose,  incurring  more  eertain  risk  of 
life  and  far  more  sanguinary,  than  in  the  ordinary  contests  between  ei\iliy.ed 
troop-;.  Every  Indian  fights  witli  intention,  and  for  all  that  is  in  him; 
he  waits  for  no  orders,  but  has  every  effort  concentrated  on  his  intention 
to  kill.  And,  singularly,  this  Indian  tighting,  which  calls  lor  the  utmost 
skill  and  courage  on  the  part  of  men,  is  not  appreciated  by  the  Govern- 
ment, or  held  worthy  of  the  notice  given  to  the  milder  civilized  warfare. 

When  we  left  Round  Valley  in  the  morning  Archambeau,  who  was  an 
inveterate  hunter,  had  gone  off  among  the  hills  and  towards  the  mountaiii 
in  search  of  game. 

We  had  now  entered  more  into  the  open  country,  though  still  a  \  alle\- 
or  high  upland  along  tl.e  foot  of  the  main  ridge,  and  were  tra\elling 
north;  but  the  route  of  the  day  is  often  diverted  from  its  general  course 
bv  accidents  of  country  and  for  con\  enient  camping  grounds.  Archam- 
beau did  not  eome  in  at  night,  and  when  the  morning  came  .und  did  not 
bring  him  I  did  not  mo\e  camp,  but  sent  out  men  to  look  for  him. 
Since  leaving  the  California  Mountains  we  had  seen  no  Indians,  though 
frequently  we  came  upon  their  tracks  and  other  sign.  All  through  this 
country  there  were  traces  of  thein.  Doubtless  our  camp-tires  had  dis- 
covered us  to  them,  but  they  hovered  around  out  of  our  way  and  out  of 
sii^ht.  The  second  day  passed  and  still  no  trace  of  Archambeau  had 
been  fi>und,  and  the  greater  part  of  the  third  was  passed  in  scouring  the 
country.  There  would  ha\e  been  little  difllculty  in  a  prairie  region,  but 
in  a  broken  or  hilly  country  much  ground  cannot  be  covered  and  the 
search  is  restricted  to  a  small  area.  We  had  now  been  in  camp  thice 
days  and  I  began  to  be  sericnisU-  disturbed  by  Ids  absence.  Game  had 
been  found  scarce  in  the  immediate  neighborhood.  He  had  nothing 
with  him  but  a  little  dried  meat  when  he  turned  off  from  the  part\-,  ex- 
peeling  to  rejoin  us  before  night,  and  the  Indians  in  the  region  through 
wliieh  we  were  travelling  were  known  to  be  hostile  and  treacherous,  with 
;i  fixed  character  for  daring.  Parties  from  as  far  north  as  the  Hudson 
Hay  Company's  post  wh<>  had  penetrated  here  had  met  with  some 
I'ou^h  experiences,  and  the  storv  of  trapper  ad\  enturc  lu'realiout  was  full 
lit  disast'r.  On  one  occasion  a  hirge  party  of  trappers  from  the  nortli 
were  encamped  on  one  of  the  streams  of  the  Cascade  range,  and  having 
been  led  into  carelessness  bv  thi'  apparent  friendly  conduct  of  the  In- 
dians, were  every  man  killed.  It  'A'as  easv  to  waylav  ;i  single  man,  "spe- 
nally  'f  he  were  intent  on   Lrame.      1   had  ahva\s  been  carefid  of  \w\  men. 


u. 


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4S. 


MEMOIRS  or  MY  LIFE—JOHN  CHAKLES  FREMONT. 


and  in  all  my  joninc}  ini^s  lost  but  few,  and  with  rare  exceptions  those 
were  bv  aci.ident  or  imprudence.  Naturall}'  disposed  that  \va\,  1  had 
always  endeavored  to  provide  (or  their  saiety  so  far  as  the  nature 
of  our  exposed  life  permitted,  for  in  case  of  accident,  as  we  had  no 
surgeon,  I  was  myself  the  only  resource.  A  man  lost  from  camp  was 
likeU'  also  to  lose  his  life.  In  such  circumstances  every  hour  increases 
tiie  dan<ijer  of  his  situation.  And  so  about  sunset  we  were  <rrcally  re- 
lieved when  a  shout  from  the  men  on  guard  roused  the  camp  and  we  saw 
Archambeau  creepinj^  slowly  in,  man  and  horse  equally  worn  out.  Search- 
iiii;  for  game,  he  had  been  led  off  and  entangled  among  the  hills  until  the 
coming  night  roused  him  and  the  darkness  cut  off  all  chance  of  reaehinj; 
camp.  I  lis  search  was  as  fruitless  on  the  following  days.  He  did  not 
meet  game,  and  his  lu)rse  being  kept  close  at  hand  at  night  had  no  ehaiue 
to  feed,  and  was  nearly  as  tired  as  himself.  And  he  had  probabh'  owed 
his  life  to  his  good  cNcs.  These  were  unusually  fine,  with  an  instnnt 
(piickness  to  catch  a  moving  object  or  an\'  slight  difference  in  color  or 
form  of  what  lay  before  him.  I  was  riding  with  liim  on  the  prairie  one 
day.  off  from  the  part\-,  when  he  suddenl\-  halted.  "Stop,"  he  said,  "I  see 
an  antelope's  horns."  About  lifty  steps  awa}'  an  antelope  was  l}ing  in  the 
tall  grass,  and  the  tip  of  its  horn  was  barely  visible  above  it,  but  he  not 
only  saw  it  but  shot  and  killed  it.  And  this  time  his  eyes  had  served 
him  well  again.  'They  were  ranging  around  taking  in  all  before  him 
when  he  caught  sight  of  a  party  of  Indians.  They  were  travcllinu-  di- 
rectly across  his  line  of  wa} ,  making  towards  the  coast  mountains,  proha- 
biy  going  to  some  river  in  which  there  were  salmon.  If  they  had  been 
e'oming  towards  him  they  would  have  seen  him,  or  if  they  had  crossed 
his  trail  behind  him  his  life  would  have  been  lost.  lie  saw  them  as  tliey 
were  coming  up  out  of  a  broad  ravine  and  in  the  instant  got  his  horse 
out  of  sight  down  the  slope  of  a  hill.  "  My  heart  was  in  my  mouth  for  a 
moment,"  he  said.  The  danger  of  his  situation  had  alread}'  brought  on 
the  hurry  and  excitement  which  often  deprives  a  man  of  all  prudenee. 
In  such  mishaps  a  man  quickly  loses  his  head,  but  at  this  stage,  happily,  he 
struck  our  trail. 

The  arri\al  of  Archambeau  relieved  and  spread  pleasure  through  the 
camp,  where  he  was  a  general  favor". e.  He  was  Canadian,  tall,  tine- 
looking,  \ery  cheerful,  and  with  all  the  ga\'ety  of  the  voyaoriir  before 
hard  work  and  a  rough  life  had  drivirn  it  out.  lie  had  that  light,  elas- 
tic French  temperament  that  makes  a  cheerful  companion  in  travellinu': 
which  in  my  experience  brings  out  all  there  is  of  good  or  bad  in  a  ir.an. 
1  lo\ed  to  have  my  camp  cheerful  and  took  care  always  for  the  heakh  and 
comfort  which  carry  good  tenijier  with  them.  Usually,  on  leaving  tlie 
frontier,  I  provided  the  men  with   tents  or  lodges,  but  by  the  time  we  had 


THIRD  EXPEDITION.— REACH   I'LAMATII  LAKE. 


4«3 


been  ii  month  or  two  on  the  road,  they  would  come  to  mo  to  say  that  it  was 
hiircl  (111  them  to  have  to  put  up  their  h)d<re  at  nitjht  when  they  were  tired, 
and  that  tliey  made  a  dehiy  in  the  morninj;-  when  starting.  So  usually 
their  shelters  were  gladly  left  behind  and  the\-  took  the  weather  as  it 
Clime. 

.Meantime  the  days  while  we  had  been  waiting  here  were  not  lost.  Our 
animals  had  been  resting  on  good  grass,  and  when  in  the  morning  the 
welcome  order  was  given  to  move  camp,  they  made  the  lively  scene  which 
Mr.  Kern  gives  in  the  picture.  This  was  an  order  which  the  animals 
were  alv/ays  ])rone  to  resist  promptly,  and  their  three  days'  rest  made 
I'luin  do  it  now  with  unusual  vigor.  But  the  men,  too,  refreshed  by  rest 
;ind  cheered  by  the  recovery  of  their  companion,  entered  with  equal  spirit 
into  the  fray,  and  soon  we  were  again  on  the  trail,  the  animals  settled 
uiiwn  to  their  orderly  work. 

Archambeau  was  himself  a<rain  in  the  morning  after  a  ni<;ht's  rest, 
;ind  good  meals  among  companions,  but  his  horse  was  let  to  run  loose 
[nr  some  days,  in  order  to  rcco\er  its  useful  strength.  ^Vith  the  animals 
retreshed  we  made  a  long  stretch  and  encaiuped  on  a  s  ream  flowing  into 
Lake  Rhett,  which  I  called  McCrady.  This  was  the  name  of  one  of  my 
boyhood's  friends,  living  in  Charleston,  who  came  this  e\ening  into  my 
mind,  and  I  left  his  memory  on  the  stream.  In  such  work  as  I  was  en- 
gaged in  there  is  alvva}'s  much  time  for  thinking,  or  ruminating,  as  it  may 
better  be  called;  not  upon  the  road,  but  often  at  night,  waiting  for  the 
Lour  when  the  v\c)rk  belonging  to  it  ma}-  begin. 

In  the  forenoon  of  the  sixth  we  reached  the  Tlamath  Lake  at  its  out- 
let, which  is  by  a  fine,  broad  stream,  not  fordable.  This  is  a  great  fish- 
ing station  for  the  Indians,  and  we  met  here  the  hrst  we  had  seen  since 
leaving  the  lower  valley.  They  have  fixed  habitations  around  the  shores 
1'!  the  lake,  particularly  at  the  outlet  and  inlet,  and  along  the  inlet  up  to 
the  swamp  meadow,  where  I  met  the  Tlamaths  in  the  winter  of  '43-'44,  and 
where  we  narrowly  escaped  disaster. 

Our  arrival  took  them  b\'  surprise,  and  though  they  recei\ed  us  with 
apparent  friendship,  there  was  no  warmth  in  it,  but  a  sh}ness  which  came 
naturally  from  their  habit  of  hostility. 

At  the  outlet  here  were  some  of  their  permanent  huts.  From  the 
liiko  to  the  sea  I  judged  the  river  to  be  about  two  hundred  miles  long;  it 
breaks  its  way  south  of  the  huge  bulk  of  vShastl  Peak  between  the  points 
'it  the  Cascade  and  Nevada  ranges  to  the  sea.  Up  this  river  the  salmon 
>'io\vd  in  great  numbers  to  the  lake,  which  is  more  than  four  thousand 
ieet  above  the  sea.  It  was  a  bright  spring  morning,  and  the  lake  and  its 
surrounding  scencr\'  looked  charming.  It  was  inviting,  and  I  would 
lave  been  glad  to  range  t)\  er  it  in  one  of  the  Indian  canoes.     The  silent 


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uU/:.]/o/h's  or  .yy  j.iif.-  joiix  cn.iRLES  fremont. 


shores  and  unknown  mountains  liad  the  attraction  which  nnstcrv  inves 
always.  It  was  all  wild  ami  unexplored,  and  the  unin\aded  silence  roused 
curiosity  and  in\  ited  research.  lndi<;enous,  the  Indians  like  the  rocks 
and  trees  seemed  part  of  tiie  soil,  growing  in  a  state  of  rude  nature  like 
the  NCiictation,  and  like  it  nourished  and  fed  by  nature.  And  so  it  had 
been  back  to  a  time  of  which  nothing;-  was  known.  All  here  was  in  the  triiL' 
aboriginal  condition,  but  I  had  no  time  now  for  idling  days,  and  I  had  to 
lose  the  pleasure  to  which  the  view  before  me  invited.  Mr.  Kern  made  the 
picture  of  it  while  we  were  trading  with  the  Indians  for  dried  I'lsh  and  sal- 
mon, and  ferrying  the  camp  equipage  across  the  outlet  in  their  canoes. 

The  Indians  made  me  understand  that  there  was  another  large  river 
which  came  from  the  north  and  flowed  into  the  lake  at  the  northern  end. 
and  that  tlie  principal  village  was  at  its  mouth,  where  also  thev  eauuht 
many  tish. 

Resuming  our  journey,  we  worked  our  way  along  between  the  lake 
and  the  mountain,  and  late  in  the  day  made  camp  at  a  run,  near  where  it 
issued  from  the  woods  into  the  lake  and  where  our  animals  had  gootl  feed. 
For  something  which  happened  afterward,  I  gave  this  run  the  name  of 
Denny's  Branch.     Animals  and  men  all  fared  well  here. 

May  7.  —The  weather  continued  refreshingly  cool.  Our  way  led  al- 
wa}s  between  the  lake  and  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  frequently  rough 
and  blocked  b}^  decaying  logs  and  fallen  trees,  where  patches  of  snow- 
still  remained  in  the  shade,  over  ground  rarely  trodden  e\en  b}'  an  Indian 
foot.  In  the  timber  the  snow  was  heavy  and  naturally  much  heavier 
towards  the  summits  and  in  the  passes  of  the  mountains,  where  thu 
winter  still  held  sway.  This  \ear  it  had  continued  late  and  rough.  In 
the  late  afternoon  we  reached  a  piece  of  open  giound  through  which  a 
stream  ran  towards  the  lake.  Here  the  mountain  receded  a  little,  leav- 
ing a  flat  where  the  woods,  which  still  occupied  the  ground,  left  us  a  con- 
venient open  space  by  the  water,  and  where  there  was  grass  abundant. 
On  the  wa}-  along  from  the  outlet  no  Indians  had  been  seen  and  no  other 
sign  of  life,  but  now  and  then  w'.ion  the  lake  was  visible  a  canoe  mitrht 
be  seen  glancing  along.  But  in  llic  morning,  as  we  were  about  to  leave 
camp,  a  number  of  them  came  in.  I  could  not  clearly  find  where  they 
had  come  from,  though  they  pointed  up  the  lake.  Perhaps  from  some 
valley  in  the  mountain  on  this  stream,  or  perhaps  they  had  followed  our 
trail.  This  was  most  likely,  but  if  so  they  were  not  willing  to  tell.  They 
would  not  have  done  so  with  any  good  intent,  and  they  knew  well  enoiigh 
that  we  were  aware  of  it.  They  said  that  they  were  hungry,  and  I  had 
some  mules  unpacked  and  gave  them  part  of  our  remaining  scant}'  sup- 
ply of  dried  meat  and  the  usual  present  which  an  Indian,  wild  or  tame. 
always  instinctively  expects. 


THIRD  Exri:Djrio.x.—JN  AN  unexplored  couxirv. 


\^i 


K'    name 


Wc  continued  (nir  route  oxer  the  same  kind  of  ground,  rendered  dif- 
t'lLiilt  bv  the  obstructions  wiiich  tlie  wash  of  tiie  rain  and  siunv,  and  the 
fallen  limber,  the  undisturbed  accumulations  of  tlie  many  years,  had 
placed  in  these  forests.  Crossing  spurs  of  mountains  and  working  around 
tJK'  ba\s  or  coves  between  tiie  ridges  or  winding  among  the  hills,  it  is 
surprising  how  a  long  day's  march  dwindles  away  to  a  few  miles  when  it 
nmics  to  be  laid  down  between  the  rigorous  astronomical  stations.  We 
had  tra\elled  in  this  direction  many  such  da}s  when  we  encamped  in  the 
afteiiKion  of  the  8th  of  May.  A  glance  at  the  mountains,  which  are  shown 
in  the  view  of  the  lake,  gives  some  idea  of  the  character  of  this  unex- 
plored region.  By  unexplored,  I  wisii  to  be  understood  to  say  that  it 
had  never  been  explored  or  majiped,  or  in  an}'  way  brought  to  conunon 
kniiwiedge,  or  rarely  visited  except  by  strong  parties  of  trappers,  and  by 
those  at  remote  intervals,  doubtless  never  b}-  trappers  singly.  It  was  a 
true  wilderness.  There  was  the  great  range  of  mountains  behind  the 
coast,  and  behind  it  the  lakes  and  rivers  known  to  the  trappers,  and  that 
was  all,  and  the  interest  attached  to  it  was  chiefly  from  the  disasters 
which  iiad  befallen  them.  And  from  their  reports,  rude  and  exaggerated 
outlines,  and  Turtle  Lakes  and  Buenaventura  Rivers,  had  been  marked 
clown  at  the  stations  of  the  Fur  Company.  All  this  gave  the  country  a 
charm  for  me.  It  woidd  ha\e  been  dull  work  if  it  had  been  to  plod  o\er 
a  safe  country  and  here  and  there  to  correct  some  old  error. 

And  I  had  my  work  all  planned.  The  friendly  reader— and  I  hope  that 
no  unfriendly  eyes  will  travel  along  with  me  over  these  lines;  the  friends 
niav  be  few  and  the  many  are  the  neutral  minds  who  read  witliout 
reference  to  the  writer,  sole!}'  for  the  interest  they  find.  To  these  I 
write  freely,  letting  the  hues  of  my  mind  color  the  paper,  feeling  myself 
on  pleasant  terms  with  them,  giving  to  them  in  a  manner  a  life  confes- 
sion in  which  I  hope  chcv  lind  interest,  and  expecting  to  find  them  con- 
siderate and  weighing  fairly,  and  sometimes  condoning  the  events  as  we 
pass  them  in  review.  Mj-  reading  friend,  then,  who  has  tra\clled  with 
me  thus  far  will  remember  that  some  seventeen  months  before  this  time, 
in  the  December  of  '45,  in  coming  south  from  the  Columbia,  I  encamped 
im  a  large  savannah,  or  meadow-lake,  which  made  the  southern  limit  of 
my  journey.  I  met  there  a  Tlamath  chief  and  his  wife,  who  had  come 
nut  tt)  meet  me  and  share  his  fate,  whether  good  or  bad,  and  the  chief 
liiul  afterward  accompanied  me  and  piloted  me  on  my  wa}'  through  the 
torest  and  the  snow.  Where  I  had  encamped  this  night  I  was  only  some 
twciity  miles  in  an  air-line  from  their  village  and  I  was  promising  myself 
Minie  pleasure  in  seeing  them  again.  According  to  what  the  Indians  at 
the  south  end  of  the  lake  had  told  me,  I  had  only  to  tra\el  eastward  a 
sliurt  march  and  I  would   iind   a  large   village  at   the  inlet  of  the  ri\er, 


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33  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  MS80 

(716)  872-4503 


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486 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LI  IE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


which  I  knew  must  be  tliat  on  which  my  friendly  chief  Hved,  some  twenty 
miles  above.  And  his  Indians,  too,  like  all  the  others  along  these  moun- 
tains, had  the  character  of  normal  hostility  to  the  whites. 

My  plans  when  I  started  on  my  journey  into  this  region  were  to 
connect  my  present  sur\  e}-  of  the  intervening  country  with  my  camp  on 
the  savannah,  where  I  had  met  the  Tlamaths  in  that  December  ;  anil 
I  wished  to  penetrate  among  the  mountains  of  the  Cascade  ranges.  As 
I  have  said,  except  for  the  few  trappers  who  had  searclied  the  streams 
leading  to  the  ocean,  for  beaver,  1  felt  sure  that  these  mountains  were 
absolutely  unknown.  Xo  one  had  penetrated  their  recesses  tc»  know 
what  they  contained,  and  no  one  had  climbed  to  their  summits;  and  there 
remained  the  great  attraction  of  mystery  in  going  into  unknown  places 
— ihe  unknown  lands  of  which  I  had  dreamed  when  I  began  this  life  of 
frontier  travel.  And  possibly,  I  thought,  when  I  should  descend  tlieir 
western  flanks  some  safe  harbor  might  jet  be  found  by  careful  search  alon"' 
that  coast,  where  harbors  were  so  few;  and  perhaps  good  passages  from 
the  interior  through  these  mountains  to  the  sea.  I  thought  that  until 
the  snow  should  go  off  the  lower  part  of  the  mountains  I  might  occupy 
what  remained  of  the  spring  by  a  survey  of  the  Tlamath  River  to  i^ 
heads,  and  make  a  good  map  of  the  country  along  the  base  of  the  moun- 
tains. And  if  we  should  not  find  game  enough  to  live  upon,  we  could  em- 
plo}'  the  Indians  to  get  supplies  of  salmon  and  other  fish.  But  I  felt  sure 
that  there  was  game  in  the  woods  of  these  mountains  as  well  as  in  those 
more  to  the  south.  Travelling  along  the  northern  part  of  this  range  in 
December  of  '43,  I  had  seen  elk  tracks  in  the  snow,  and  at  an  old  C"a\use 
village  in  the  pine  forest  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  only  about  sixtv 
miles  farther  north,  there  were  many  deer  horns  lying  around.  This 
showed  that  we  should  probably  find  both  elk  and  deer,  and  bear,  in  the 
mountains,  and  certainly  on  the  slope  towards  the  sea,  where  e\ery 
variety  of  climate  would  be  foimd,  and  every  variety  of  mast-bearini; 
trees,  as  in  the  oak  region  of  the  Sierra  Nevada.  And  1  had  not  forjiot- 
ten  how  fascinated  I  had  been  with  the  winter  beauty  of  the  snowy 
range  farther  north,  when  at  sunrise  and  at  sunset  their  rose-colored  peaks 
stood  up  out  of  the  dark  pine  forests  into  the  clear  light  of  the  sky.  And 
my  thoughts  took  the  same  color  when  I  remembered  that  Mr.  i\eni. 
who  had  his  colors  with  him,  could  hold  these  lovely  views  in  all  their  del- 
icate coloring. 

I  low  tate  pursues  a  man!  Thinking  and  ruminating  over  these  thinfjs, 
I  was  standing  alone  by  my  camp-Jire,  enjoying  its  warmth,  for  the  niLrhi 
air  of  early  spring  is  chill  under  the  shadows  of  the  high  mountains, 
Suddenly  my  ear  caught  the  faint  sound  of  horses'  feet,  and  while  I  was 
watching  and  listening  as  the  sounds,  so  strange  hereabout,  came  nearer. 


oyr. 


I,  some  twenty 
,g  these  nioun- 


egion   were  to 
1  my  camp  on 
)ecember  ;   and 
[le  ranges.     As 
ed  the  streams 
nountains  were 
;esses   to  know 
niits;  and  there 
iiiknown  places 
;gan  this  H(e  of 
d  descend  their 
:ful  search  along 
1  passages  from 
night    that  until 
I  might  occupy 
ith  River  to  iu 
se  of  the  moun- 
n,  we  could  em- 
But  I  felt  sure 
ell  as  in  those 
f  this  range  in 
an  old  Cayuse 
nly  about  sixty 
around.     This 
and  bear,  in  the 
11,    where    every 
|of   mast-beariiii: 
had  not  for<jot- 
of   the   snowy 
ie-colored  peaks 
the  sky.     And 
that  Mr.  Kcni. 
in  all  their  del- 

j-cr  these  thinj;s, 
|h,  for  the  nitric 
Biitrh  mountains. 
Jind  while  I  was 
lit,  came  nearer. 


THIRD  EXPEDITIOX.—NEAL  INFORMS  ME  OF  GILLESPIE. 


4S7 


there  emerged  from  the  darkness — into  the  circle  of  the  firelight — two 
horsemen,  riding  slowly  as  though  horse  and  man  were  fatigued  by  long 
travelling.  In  the  foremost  I  recognized  the  familiar  face  of  Neal,  with  a 
companion  whom  I  also  knew,  rhey  had  ridden  nearly  a  hundred  miles 
in  the  last  tv/o  days,  having  been  sent  forward  by  a  United  States  officci 
who  was  on  my  trail  with  despatches  for  me  ;  but  Neal  doubted  if  he 
would  get  through.  After  their  horses  had  been  turned  into  the  band 
and  they  were  seated  by  my  fire,  refreshing  themselves  with  good  coffee 
while  more  solid  food  was  being  prepared,  Neal  told  me  his  story.  The 
officer  who  was  trying  to  overtake  me  was  named  Gillespie.  He  had 
hcen  sent  to  California  by  the  Government  and  had  letters  for  delivery 
to  me.  Neal  knew  the  great  danger  from  Indians  in  this  country,  and 
his  party  becoming  alarm<;d  and  my  trail  being  fresh,  Mr.  Gillespie  had 
sent  forward  Neril  and  Sigler  upon  their  best  horses  to  o\Lrtake  me  and 
inform  me  of  his  situation.  They  had  left  him  on  the  morning  of  the 
day  before,  and  in  the  two  days  had  ridden  nearly  a  hundred  miles,  and 
this  last  day  had  severely  tried  the  strength  of  their  horses.  When  they 
parted  from  him  they  had  not  reached  the  lake,  and  for  greater  safety 
had  not  kept  my  trail  quite  to  the  outlet,  but  crossed  to  the  right  bank 
of  the  river,  striking  my  trail  again  on  the  lake  shore.  They  had  discov- 
ered Indians  on  my  trail  after  they  had  left  Gillespie,  and  on  the  upper 
part  of  the  lake  the  Indians  had  tried  to  cut  them  off,  and  they  had 
escaped  only  by  the  speed  and  strength  of  their  horses,  which  Neal  had 
brought  from  his  own  rancho.  He  said  that  in  his  opinion  I  could  not 
reach  Gillespie  in  time  to  save  him,  as  he  had  with  him  only  three  men  and 
was  travelling  slow. 

A  quick  eye  and  a  good  horse  mean  life  to  a  man  in  an  Indian  coun- 
try. Neal  had  both.  He  was  a  lover  of  horses  and  knew  a  good  one  ; 
and  those  he  had  with  him  were  the  best  on  his  rancho.  He  had  been  sent 
forward  by  the  messenger  to  let  me  know  that  he  was  in  danger  of  being 
cut  off  by  the  Indians. 

The  trail  back  along  the  shore  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains  was  so 
nearly  impassable  at  night  that  nothing  could  be  gained  by  attempting  it, 
hut  everything  was  made  ready  for  an  early  start  in  the  morning.  Vox 
the  relief  party,  in  view  of  contingencies,  I  selected  ten  of  the  best  men, 
including  Carson,  Stepp,  Dick  Owens,  Godey,  Basil,  and  Lajeunesse,  with 
tdur  of  the  Delawares. 

When  the  excitement  of  the  evening  was  over  I  lay  down,  speculating 
far  into  the  night  on  what  could  be  the  urgency  of  the  message  which 
liad  brought  an  officer  of  the  (Tovernment  to  search  so  far  after  nic  into 
these  mountains.  At  early  dawn  we  took  the  backward  trail.  Snow  and 
fallen  timber  made  the  ride  hard  and  \w\\i  to  where  I  thouii'lit  to   meet 


m 


iiiii 


V 


ii 


4SS 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


Im 


%   \ 


the  messenger.  On  the  way  no  Indians  were  seen  and  no  tracks  later 
than  tliose  where  they  had  struek  Neal's  trail.  In  the  afternoon,  havin" 
made  about  fort^-hve  miles,  we  readied  the  spot  where  the  forest  made 
an  opening  to  the  lake,  and  where  I  intended  to  wait.  This  was  a  glacle 
or  natural  meadow,  shut  in  by  the  forest,  with  a  small  stream  and  good 
grass,  wliere  I  had  already  encamped.  I  knew  that  this  was  the  first  water 
to  which  my  trail  would  bring  the  messenger,  and  that  I  was  sure  to 
meet  him  here  if  no  harm  befell  him  on  the  way.  The  sun  was  about 
going  down  when  he  was  seen  issuing  from  the  wood,  accompanied  b\ 
three  men. 

lie  proved  to  be  an  officer  of  the  navy,  Lieutenant  Archibald  Gilles- 
pie of  the  Marine  Corps.  We  greeted  him  warmly.  All  were  glad  to  see 
him,  whites  and  Indians.  It  was  long  since  any  news  had  reached  us,  and 
e\  ery  one  was  as  pleased  to  see  him  as  if  he  had  come  freighted  with 
letters  from  home,  for  all.  It  was  now  eleven  months  since  any  tidinjfs 
had  reached  me. 

Mr.  Gillespie  informed  me  that  he  had  left  Washington  under  orders 
from  the  President  and  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  and  was  directed  tn 
reach  California  by  the  shortest  route  through  Mexico  to  Mazatlan. 

He  was  directed  to  Hnd  me  wherever  I  might  be,  and  was  informed 
that  I  would  probabl}-  be  found  on  the  .Sacramento  River.  In  pursuanee 
of  his  instructions  he  had  accordingly  started  from  Monterey  to  look  for 
me  on  the  Sacramento.  Learning  upon  his  arrival  at  Sutter's  Fort  that 
I  had  gone  up  the  vallc}-,  he  made  up  a  small  party  at  Neal's  rancho,  and, 
guided  by  him,  followed  iii}'  trail  and  had  tra\"elled  six  hundred  miles  to 
overtake  me;  the  latter  part  of  the  way  through  great  dangers. 

The  mission  on  which  I  had  been  originally  sent  to  the  West  was  a 
peaceful  one,  and  Mr.  Bancroft  had  sent  Mr.  Gillespie  to  give  me  warnini; 
of  the  new  state  of  affairs  and  the  designs  of  the  President.  Mr.  Gillespie 
had  been  given  charge  of  despatches  from  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy 
to  Commodore  Sloat,  and  had  been  purposel}'  made  acquainted  with 
their  import.  Known  to  Mr.  Bancroft  as  an  able  and  thoroughly  trust- 
worth}'  officer,  he  had  been  well  instructed  in  the  designs  of  the  Depart- 
ment and  with  the  purposes  of  the  Administration,  so  far  as  they  related 
to  California. 

Through  him  I  now  became  acquainted  with  the  actual  state  of 
affairs  and  the  purposes  of  the  (lovernment.  The  information  through 
Gillespie  had  absoU  ed  me  from  ni}'  duty  as  an  explorer,  and  I  was  left 
to  my  dut}-  as  an  officer  of  the  American  Army  with  the  further  author- 
itative knowledge  that  the  Government  intended  to  take  California. 
I  was  warned  b}-  my  Goxernnient  of  the  new  danger  against  which  I 
was  bound  to  defeiul  m}-self;  and  it  had  been  made  known  to  me  now  on 


MONT. 


MEET  GILLESPIE  AND  RECEIVE  GOVERNMENT  ORDERS.        489 


no  tracks  later 
fternoon,  having 
the  forest  made 
his  was  a  glade, 
tream  and  good 
as  the  first  water 
t  I  was  sure  to 
;  sun  was   about 
accompanied  by 

Archibald  Gilles- 
were  glad  to  see 
I  reached  us,  and 
le  freighted  with 
since  any  tiding> 

;ton  under  orders 
.1  was  directed  tn 
Mazatlan. 
find  was  informed 
or.     In  pursuance 
mterey  to  look  for 
Sutter's  Fort  that 
caFs  rancho,  and. 
hundred  miles  to 
mgers. 
the  West  was  a 
o-ive  me  warnini: 
;nt.     Mr.  Gillespie 
[ary  of  the   Navy 
acquainted  with 
thoroughly  trust- 
;ns  of  the  Depart- 
ar  as  they  related 

le  actual  state  of 
formation  throui;h 
Icr,  and  I  was  left 

|he  further  author- 
take    California. 
[r  against  which  1 


kvn  to  me 


niiW  1 '. 


the  authority  of  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy  that   to  obtain  possession  of 
California  was  the  chief  object  of  the  President. 

lie  brought  me  also  a  letter  of  introduction  from  the  Secretary  of 
State,  Mr.  Buchanan,  and  letters  and  papers  from  Senator  Benton  and 
familv.  The  letter  from  the  Secretary  was  directed  to  me  in  my  private 
or  citizen  capacity,  and  though  importing  nothing  beyond  the  introduc- 
tion, it  accredited  the  bearer  to  me  as  coming  from  the  Secretary  of 
.State,  and  in  connection  with  the  circumstances  and  place  of  delivery 
it  indicated  a  purpose  in  sending  it.  From  the  letter  itself  I  learned 
nothing,  but  it  was  intelligibly  explained  to  me  by  the  accompanying 
letter  from  Senator  Benton  and  by  communications  from  Lieutenant 
Gillespie. 

This  officer  informed  me  that  he  had  been  directed  by  the  Secretary 
ot  State  to  acquaint  me  with  his  instructions,  which  had  for  their  prin- 
cipal objects  to  ascertain  the  disposition  of  the  California  people,  to  con- 
ciliate their  feelings  in  favor  of  the  United  States;  and  to  find  out,  with 
a  view  to  counteracting,  the  designs  of  the  British  Government  upon  that 
country. 

The  letter  from  Senator  Benton,  while  apparently  of  friendship  and  fam- 
ily details,  contained  passages  and  suggestions  which,  read  by  the  light  of 
many  conversations  and  discussions  with  himself  and  others  at  Washington, 
dearly  indicated  to  me  that  I  was  required  by  the  Government  to  find  out 
any  foreign  schemes  in  relation  to  California  and,  so  far  as  might  be  in  my 
power,  to  counteract  them. 

Xeal  had  much  to  talk  over  with  his  old  companions  and  pleasurable 
excitement  kept  us  up  late;  but  before  eleven  o'clock  all  were  wrapped  in 
their  blankets  and  soundly  asleep  except  myself.  I  sat  by  the  fire  in  fan- 
cied security,  going  over  again  the  home  letters.  These  threw  their  own 
light  upon  the  communication  from  Mr.  Gillespie,  and  made  the  expected 
>igiial.  In  substance,  their  effect  was:  The  time  has  come.  England  must 
not  get  a  foothold.     We  must  be  first.     Act;  discreetly,  but  positively. 

Looking  back  over  the  contingencies  which  had  been  foreseen  in  the 
discussions  at  Washington,  I  saw  that  the  important  one  which  carried 
v.ith  it  the  hopes  of  Senator  Benton  and  the  wishes  of  the  Government 
was  in  the  act  of  occurring,  and  it  was  w  ith  thorough  satisfaction  I  now- 
found  myself  required  to  do  what  I  could  to  promote  this  object  of  the 
President.  Viewed  by  the  light  of  these  deliberations  in  W^ashington,  I 
was  prepared  to  comprehend  fully  the  communications  brought  to  me  by 
Mr.  Gillespie. 

Now  it  was  officially  made  known  to  me  that  my-  country  was  at  war, 
and  it  was  so  made  known  expressly  to  guide  my  conduct.  I  had  learned 
\vith  certainty  fri)m  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy  that  the  President's  plan  of 


•■•■4)1 


:  !■'  ri. 


:st 


490 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE—JOHX  CHARLES  ERlMOXT. 


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'I  , 


war  included  the  taking;  possession  of  California,  and  undi-r  liis  contidciuial 
instructions  1  liad  ni}-  warrant.  Mr.  Gillespie  was  directed  to  act  in  con- 
cert with  nie.  (ireat  \  i^ilance  and  activity  were  exjiected  of  us  botii,  lor 
it  was  desired  that  possession  should  he  had  of  California  before  the  pivs- 
ence  in  her  ports  of  any  foreign  vessel  of  war  miyht  make  it  inconveniunl. 

1  had  about  thou<,dit  out  the  situation  when  1  was  startled  by  a  sudden 
movement  amon<;-  the  animals.  Lieutenant  Gillespie  had  told  me  that  there 
w  ere  no  Indians  on  his  trail,  and  I  knew  there  were  none  on  mine.  This 
night  was  one  of  two  when  I  failed  to  put  men  on  guard  in  an  Indian  coun- 
try— this  night  and  one  spent  on  an  island  in  the  Great  Salt  Lake.  The  nn- 
imals  were  near  the  shore  of  the  lake,  barely  a  hundred  yards  away.  Draw- 
ing a  rexolver  I  went  down  among  them.  A  mule  is  a  good  sentinel,  and 
wlien  he  quits  eating  and  stands  with  his  ears  stuck  straight  out  taking  no- 
tice, it  is  best  to  see  what  is  the  matter.  The  mules  knew  that  Indians  were 
around,  but  nothing  seemed  stirring,  and  my  presence  quieting  the  animals  1 
returned  to  th.e  tire  and  my  letters. 

I  saw  the  way  opening  clear  before  mc.  War  with  Mexico  was  ine\  i- 
table;  and  a  grand  opportunity  now  presented  itself  to  realize  in  their  fiille>t 
extent  the  far-sighted  views  of  Senator  Benton,  and  make  the  Pacific  Oeean 
the  western  boundary  of  the  United  States.  1  resolved  to  move  forward  on 
the  opportunity  and  return  forthwith  to  the  Sacramento  valley  in  order  to 
bring  to  bear  all  the  influences  I  could  coirmand. 

Except  myself,  then  and  for  nine  months  afterward,  there  was  no  other 
oiTicer  of  the  army  in  California.  T'he  citizen  party  under  my  coniniand 
was  made  up  of  picked  men,  and  although  small  in  number,  constituted  a 
formidable  nucleus  for  frontier  warfare,  and  many  of  its  members  com- 
manded the  confidence  of  the  emigration. 

This  decision  was  the  tirst  step  in  the  conquest  of  California. 

^ly  mind  having  settled  into  this  conclusion,  I  went  to  my  blankets  under 
a  cedar.  The  camp  was  divided  into  three  tires,  and  near  each  one.  but 
well  out  of  the  light,  were  sleeping  the  men  belonging  to  it.  Close  up 
along  the  margin  of  the  wood  which  shut  us  in  on  three  sides  were  some 
low  cedars,  the  ends  of  their  boughs  reaching  nearly  to  the  ground.  Under 
these  we  made  om*  beds. 

One  alwa\s  likes  to  have  his  head  sheltered,  and  a  rifle  with  a  ramrod 
or  a  branch  or  bush  with  a  blanket  thrown  o\er  it  answers  ^•ery  well 
where  there  is  nothing  better.  I  had  barely  fallen  to  sleep  when  i  was 
awakened  by  the  sound  of  Carson's  voice,  calling  to  Basil  to  know  "  what 
the  matter  was  over  there  .''  "  No  reply  came,  and  immediatel}'  the  camp 
was  roused  b}'  the  cr}'  from  Kit  and  Owens,  who  were  lying  together— 
"  Indians."  Basil  and  the  half-breed,  Denny,  had  been  killed.  It  was 
the  sound  of  the  axe  beinir  driven  into  Basil's   head  that   had  awakened 


s  contidciuial 
;o  act  in  coiv        . 
{  us  both,  ior       § 
;{orc  the  piL's- 
inconvcnicnt. 
d  by  a  sviddcii 

I  nic  that  thcru 

II  mint'.  This 
n  Indian  coun- 
.akc.  The  :in- 
away.  Draw- 
jd  sentinel,  and 

out  takin«,'  im- 
at  Indians  were 
iir  the  animals  1 

ixico  was  intv  i- 
,e  in  their  fulk'>t 
be  Pacific  Ocean 
move  forward  on 
lUey  in  order  to 

ere  was  no  other 
m\'  coninianil 
ler,  constituted  a 
members  com- 

ifornia. 

blankets  undev 

;ar  each  one  but 

to  it.     Close  up 

sides  were  some 

.rround.    Under 


'^              1    ; 

\         * 

■  1;  ;■, 

|i 

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■■%■ 

''       ':• 

^¥  I 

i      1 

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h  1 

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SAGUNDAI. 


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1    I   .*'    I 


TIltRP  EXJ'KDITIO.X.-DI'.SJ-KKATK  JIGHT  WITH   TI.A.\[ATIIS.      491 

Caisoii.  The  half-breed  had  been  killed  with  arrows,  and  his  ^noaiis  had 
replied  U»  Carson's  call,  and  told  him  what  the  matter  was.  No  man, 
with  an  Indian  experienee,  jumps  squarely  to  his  feet  in  a  ni^lu  attack. 
but  in  an  instant  every  man  was  at  himself.  The  Delawares  who  lay 
near  their  tire  on  that  side  sprung  to  cover,  ritle  in  hand,  at  the  sound  of 
tlic  axe.  We  ran  to  their  aid,  Carson  and  I,  Godey,  Stepp,  and  Owens, 
just  as  the  Tlamaths  cliarged  into  the  open  ground.  The  hres  were 
smouldering,  but  gave  light  enough  to  show  Delaware  Crane  jumping 
like  .1  brave  as  he  was  from  side  to  side  in  Indian  fa.ihion,  and  defending 
himself  with  the  butt  of  his  gun.  By  some  mischance  his  ritle  was  not 
loaded  when  he  lay  down.  All  this  was  quick  work.  The  moment's 
silence  whicii  followed  Carson's  shout  was  broken  by  our  rifles.  The 
Tlaiiiath  chief,  who  was  at  the  head  of  his  men,  fell  in  front  of  Crane, 
who  was  just  down  with  five  arrows  in  his  body — three  in  his  breast. 
The  Tlamaths,  checked  in  their  onset  and  disconcerted  by  the  fall  of  their 
chief,  jumped  back  into  the  shadow  of  the  wood.  We  threw  a  blruiket 
i)\er  Crane  and  hung  blankets  to  the  cedar  boughs  and  bushes  near  h\ 
hehiiul  my  camp-tire,  for  a  defence  against  the  arrows.  The  Indians  did 
not  dare  to  put  themselves  again  in  the  open,  but  continued  to  pour  in 
their  arrows.  They  made  no  attempt  on  our  animals,  which  had  been 
driven  up  by  Owens  to  be  under  tire  of  the  camp,  but  made  frequent 
attempts  to  get  the  body  of  their  chief.  We  were  determined  they  should 
not  have  it,  and  every  movement  on  their  part  brought  a  rifle-shot ;  a 
do/.en  rifles  in  such  hands  at  short  range  made  the  undertaking  too  haz 
ardous  for  them  to  persist  in  it.  While  both  sides  were  watching  each 
other  from  under  cover,  and  every  movement  was  followed  by  a  rifle-shot 
or  arrow,  I  heard  Carson  cry  out :  "  l^ook  at  flic  fool.  Look  af  him.  v:ill 
)mtV^  This  was  to  Godex',  who  had  stepped  out  to  the  light  of  my  fire 
to  look  at  some  little  thing  which  had  gone  wrong  with  his  gun;  it 
was  still  bright  enough  to  show  him  distinctly,  standing  there — a  fair 
mark  to  the  arrows — turning  resentfully  to  Carson  for  the  epithet  bestowed 
^in  liim,  but  in  no  wise  hurrying  himself.  lie  was  the  most  thoroughly 
insensible  to  danger  of  all  the  brave  men  I  have  known. 

All  night  we  lay  behind  our  blanket  defences,  with  our  rifles  cocked 
in  our  hands,  expecting  momentarily  another  attack,  until  tiie  morning 
li^'ht  enabled  us  to  see  that  the  Indians  had  disappeared.  By  their 
tracks  we  found  that  fifteen  or  twenty  Tlamaths  had  attacked  us.  It 
was  a  sorrowful  sight  that  met  our  eyes  in  the  gray  of  the  morning. 
Three  of  our  men  had  been  killed:  Basil,  Crane,  and  the  half-breed 
Denny,  and  another  Delaware  had  been  wounded  ;  one-fourth  of  our 
number.  The  chief  who  hail  been  killed  was  recognized  to  be  the  same 
Indian  who   had    given   Lieutenant    Gillespie    a    salmon    at    the    outlet   of 


K;  .,:-1 


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\  I. 


III' 


'  1. 

i  1; 


492 


MEMOIRS  OF  MV  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRi-lMOXT. 


\\ 


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V  -X 


vs. 


the  lake.  Hung  to  his  wrist  was  an  English  half-axe.  Carson  sci/.nl 
this  and  knocked  his  head  to  pieces  with  it,  and  one  of  the  Dclawarcs 
Sa,s,nindai,  scalped  him.  He  was  left  n'here  he  fell.  In  his  tiiii\cr  wire 
felly  arrows  ;  as  Carson  said,  "  the  most  beautiful  and  warlike  arrows  he 
hail  ever  seen."  We  saw  more  of  them  afterward.  These  arrows  were 
all  headed  with  a  lancet-like  piece  of  in)n  or  steel — probably  obtained  from 
the  Hudson  Bay  Company's  traders  on  the  Umpqua — and  were  poisoned 
for  about  six  inches.     They  could  be  driven  that  depth  into  a  pine  tree. 

This  event  east  an  angry  gloom  o\er  the  little  camp.  For  the  moment 
I  threw  all  other  considerations  aside  and  determined  to  square  accounts  with 
these  people  before  I  left  them.  It  was  only  a  few  days  back  that  sonic 
of  these  same  Indians  had  come  into  our  camp,  and  I  divided  with  them 
what  meat  I  had,  and  unpacked  a  mule  to  gi\  c  them  tobacco  and  knives. 

On  leaving  the  main  party  I  had  directed  it  to  gear  up  as  soon  ;is 
the  men  had  breakfasted  and  follow  my  trail  to  a  place  where  we  had 
encamped  some  days  back.  This  would  put  them  now  about  twenty-five 
miles  from  us.  Packing  our  dead  men  on  the  mules,  we  started  to  rejoin 
the  main  camp,  following  the  trail  by  which  we  had  come.  Before  \vc 
had  been  two  hours  on  the  way  many  canoes  appeared  on  the  lake, 
coming  from  different  directions  and  apparently  making  for  a  point 
where  the  trail  jame  down  to  the  shore.  As  we  approached  this  point 
the  prolonged  cry  of  a  loon  told  us  that  their  scout  was  giving  the  In- 
dians warning  of  our  approach.  Knowing  that  if  we  came  to  a  figlit  the 
care  of  our  dead  men  would  prove  a  great  hindrance  and  probably  cost 
more  lives,  I  turned  sharply  off  into  the  mountain,  and  buried,  or  cached 
them  in  a  close  laurel  thicket. 

With  our  knives  we  dug  a  shallow  grave,  and  wrapping  their  blankets 
round  them,  left  them  among  the  laurels.  There  are  men  above  whom 
the  laurels  bloom  who  did  not  better  deserve  them  than  my  brave  Dela- 
ware and  Basil.     I  left  Denny's  name  on  the  creek  where  he  died. 

The  Indians,  thrown  out  by  our  sudden  movement,  failed  in  tiieir  in- 
tended ambush,  and  in  the  afternoon  we  found  our  people  on  tlie  stream 
where  we  had  encamped  three  days  before.  All  were  deeply  grie\  ed  In 
the  loss  of  our  companions.  The  Delawares  were  filled  with  grief  and  rage 
by  the  death  of  Crane  and  went  into  mourning,  blackening  their  faces. 
They  were  soothed  somewhat  when  I  told  them  that  they  should  have  an 
opportunity  to  get  rid  of  their  mourning  and  carr}'  home  scalps  enougli  to 
satisfy  the  friends  of  Crane  and  the  Delaware  nation.  With  blackened 
faces,  set  and  angry,  they  sat  around  brooding  and  waiting  for  revenge. 

The  camp  was  very  quiet  this  evening,  the  men  looking  to  their  arms, 
rubbing  and  coaxing  them.  Towards  evening  I  went  over  to  the  Dela- 
ware fire  and  sat  down  among  them.      They  were  sitting  around  their 


:)ing  their  blankets 
men  above  whom 
m  ni}'  biiue  Uela- 

he  died. 

,  failed  in  their  in- 
ople  (in  the  stream 

deeply  grieved  In 
with  grief  and  rage 

.ening  their  faces. 
ley  should  have  an 
le  scalps  enough  to 
With  blackened 

ng  for  revenge. 

king  to  their  arms, 
over  to  the  Dela- 

tting  around  their 


SAGIWDAI  AND  SWOXOK  TAKE  TWO  SCALPS. 


■\')S 


tire,  smoking  and  silent.  It  did  not  need  to  speak  ;  our  faces  told  what 
we  were  all  thinking  about.  After  a  pause  1  said,  '*  Swonok,  bad  luck 
come  this  time.      Crane  was  a  brave.      Good  man,  too.     I  am  very  sorry." 

•  Very  sick  here/''  he  said,  striking  his  hand  against  his  breast;  "these 
Uelavare  all  sick."  "  There  are  Indians  around  the  camp,  Swonok,"  I 
replied.  "  Yes,  I  see  him.  Me  and  Sagundai  and  Charley  gone  out  and 
see  him  in  woods."  '*  How  many  }  "  »•  Maybe  ten,  maybe  twenty,  maybe 
more."  "Where  did  they  go.'"  "Up  mountain.  lie  not  long  way." 
"Listen,  Swonok,  we  kill  some.  These  same  men  kill  Crane.  How  best 
kill  him  'i  "  The  chief's  eyes  glittered  and  his  face  relaxed,  and  all  the 
Delawares  raised  their  heads.  "You  go  in  morning.''  Which  way.-'" 
•Only  three,  four  mile,  to  creek  which  you  know  over  there,"  said  I 
pointing  up  the  lake;  "next  day,  big  Indian  village."  Swonok  turned 
to  Sagundai  and  the  two  chiefs  sptjke  earnestly  together  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, the  others  deeply  interested,  but  gravely  listening  without  speak- 
iiiif.  "  Captain,"  said  Sagundai,  "in  the  morning  you  go  little  way,  stop. 
These  Delaware  stay  here.     Indian  come  in  camp,  Delaware  kill  him." 

In  the  morning,  when  we  were  ready  to  start,  the  Delawares  rode  out 
some  moments  ahead,  halting  after  a  few  hundred  \ards  until  we  came 
up;  then,  leaving  their  horses  with  us,  they  returned  on  foot  and  got  into 
a  thicket  among  some  young  pines  near  the  camp  ground.  We  contin- 
ued our  way  and  halted,  no  one  dismounting,  at  a  little  run  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  distant.  It  was  not  long  before  the  stillness  was  broken 
bv  a  scattered  volley,  and  after  that,  nothing.     Shortly  Swonok   came   up 

•  Better  now,"  he  said ;  "  very  sick  before,  better  now."  They  had  taken 
two  scalps.  The  Tlamaths,  as  expected,  had  rushed  into  the  camp 
t;round,  so  soon  as  they  thought  it  safe,  and  met  the  rifles  of  the  Dela- 
wares. Two  were  killed  and  others  wounded,  but  these  were  able  to  get 
away.  Fortunately  for  them,  the  cracking  of  a  dry  branch  startled  the 
Tlamaths  and  the  Delawares  were  too  eager  to  shoot  as  well  as  usual.  I 
moved  on  about  three  miles  to  a  stream  where  the  grass  was  good  and  en- 
camped. Choosing  an  open  spot  among  the  pines  we  built  a  solid  corral  of 
pine  logs  and  branches.  It  was  six  feet  high  and  large  enough  to  contain 
all  our  animals.  At  nightfall  they  were  driven  into  it.  and  we  took  \\\)  our 
quarters  outside,  against  the  corral;  the  tires  being  at  a  little  distance  farther 
out  and  lighting  up,  while  the}'  lasted,  the  woods  beyond.  I  obtained  obser- 
vations which  put  this  camp  in  longitude  1 2 1°  58'  45"  and  lattude  42°  36'  45". 

Continuing  our  route  along  the  lake  we  passed  around  the  extreme 
northwestern  bay  and  after  a  hard  day's  march  encamped  in  the  midst  of 
woods,  where  we  built  again  a  corral  for  the  night.  In  the  morning  there 
were  many  canoes  on  the  lake,  and  Indians  had  been  about  during  the 
night,  but  the  lesson  they  had  learned  served  to  keep  them  warily  aloof 


l-l 


m 


494 


MKMOIKH  01'  J/)'  U IK— JOHN  CHARLES  /RAM0X7\ 


Wr 


in  cl;iyli<^ht.     We  were  not  very  far  from  the  prineipal  \  illa<fe  at  ilic  inlet 
wliieli    tlie    Indians  wlioni  I  had    met  when   I   lirst    reaehed  the  lake  had 
deseribed  to    me;  and  tlie   arms   beini,^   all  earefiilly  examined  and  packs 
made  seeure,  we  started  for  it.     When  within  a  few  miles  I  sent  L'arsoii 
and  Owens  ahead   with  ten   men,  direetin^  them  to  reeonnoitre  the  posi- 
tion of  the  Indians,  but  if  possible  to  avoid  en<ia<i;in<^   them  until  wc  could 
eome  up.      But,  as  we  neared    the  mouth  of  the  river,  the  hrinj,'  bci;an. 
The  party  was  diseovered  and  had  no  ehoiee  but  to  open  the  tinlit,  driv- 
ing the  Indians  who  were  on  this  side  to  the  other  side  of  the  river.    As 
I  rode  up  I  saw  a  dead  Indian  sittinjjj  in  the  stern  of  a  eanoe,  which  the 
current  had  driven  a<;ainst  tiie  bank.      His    liand  was    still    graspini;  ih^ 
paddle.     On    his    feet  were    siioes  wliieh   I   tliou<^ht    Hasil  wore  when  lie 
was    killed.      The  stream  was  about  sixty  yards  wide    and  a  rapid    just 
above  the  mouth  made  it  fordable.     Without  drawing  rein  we  plunged  in 
and  crossed  to  the  farther  side  and  joined  our  men,  who  were  pressed  bv 
a  large  body  of  Indians.      They  liad    abandoned  their  \  iUage   and  were 
scattered  through  a  field  of  sage-brush,  in  front  of  the  woods.     But  this 
time  tPC  night  was  not  on  their  side  a.nd  the  attack  was  with  us.    Their 
arrows  were  good  at  close  quarters,  but  the  range  of  the  rifle  was  better. 
The  tiring  was  too  severe  for  them  to  stand  it  in  open  ground  and  they 
were    driven    back    into    the  pine  woods  with  a  loss   of  fourteen   killed. 
They  had  intended  to  make  a  hard  fight.     Behind  the  sage-bushes  wliere 
they    had    taken   their    stand  every  Indian  had  spread  his  arrows  on  the 
ground  in  fan-like  shape,  so  that  they  would  be  ready  to  his  hand.    But 
when  our  close  fire  drove  them  from  the  brush  they  were  compelled  to 
moN  e  so  quickly  that  many  did  not  have  time  to  gather  up  their  arrows 
and  they  lay  on  the  ground,  the  bright,  menacing  points  turned  toward  us. 
(.iuanlities  of  fish  were  drying,  spread  on  scaffolds,  or     ung  up  on  frames. 
The  huts,  which  were  made  of  tall  rushes  and  willow,  like  tho.se  on  the  sa- 
vannah above,  were  set  on  fire,  and  the  lish  and  scaffolds  were  all  destroyed. 
About  a  mile  from  the  \illage  I  made  m\'  camp  on  a  chn'ri'cre  in  the 
midst  of  woods,   where  were  oaks  intermingled  with   pines,  and   built  a 
strong    corral.     Meantime  I  kept    out    scouts    on    ever}'  side    and  horses 
were    kept    ready  saildled.     In   the  afternoon    Indians  were    reported  ad- 
vancing   through    the    timber;    and    taking    with    me    Carson,    Sa<,nindai. 
Swonok,  Stepp,  and  Archambeau,  I  rode  out  to  see  what  they  were  in- 
tending.    Sacramento    knew  how  to  jump    and  liked  it.     Going  throuirh 
tile  wood  at  a  hand-gallop  we  came  upon  an  oak  tree  which    had  been 
blown  down;  its  summit  covered  quite  a  space,  and  being  crowded  by  the 
others  so  that  I  was  brought  squarely  in  front  of  it,  I  let  Sacramento  go  and 
he  cleared  the  whole  green  mass  in  a  beautiful  leap.     Looking  back,  Carson 
called  out,  '*  Captain,  that  horse  will  break  your  neck  some  day."    It  never 


THIRD  EXPEDITION.— ANOTHER  I-IGHT  WITH  TLAMATHS.      4'J5 

happi-'iit-'il  to  Sacraincnto  to  luirt  his  rider,  but  afterward,  on  the  Salinas 
plain,  he  brought  out  frt)in  lij^lit  and  back  to  his  camp  his  rider  who  had 
been  ^<hot  dead  in  the  saddle. 

In  the  heart  of  the  wood  we  eame  suddenly  upon  an  Indian  seout. 
lie  was  drawing  his  arrow  to  the  head  as  we  eame  upon  him,  and  Carson 
attempted  to  tire,  but  his  ride  snapped,  and  as  he  swerved  away  the  In- 
dian was  about  to  let  his  arrow  «fo  into  him  ;  I  tired,  and  in  my  haste  to 
save  Carson,  failed  to  kill  the  Indian,  but  Sa-  .amento,  as  I  have  said,  was 
not  afraiii  of  anything,  and  I  jumped  hin'  directly  upon  the  Indian  and 
threw  him  to  the  ground.  His  arrow  v'-.nt  wild.  Sagundai  was  right 
behind  me,  and  as  I  passed  over  the  Indian  he  threw  himself  from  his  iuirse 
and  kilK'd  him  with  a  blow  on  the  head  from  his  war-club.  It  was  the 
work  of  u  moment,  but  it  was  a  narrow  chance  for  Carson.  The  poisoned 
arrow  would  ha\  e  gone  through  his  body. 

(riving  Sacramento  into  the  care  of  Jacob,  I  went  into  the  lod^  and 
Liitl  clown  on  my  blankets  to  ret  from  the  excitement  of  which  the  day 
had  been  so  full.  I  iiad  now  kept  the  promise  I  made  to  myself  and  h.  J 
piinislu'd  these  peoplr  well  for  their  treachery  ;  and  now  I  turned  m}' 
tiiiHiii;lits  to  the  work  which  they  had  delayed.  I  was  lost  in  conjectures 
<i\cr  this  new  field  when  Gillespie  came  in,  all  roused  into  emotion.  "  By 
Heaven,  this  is  rough  work,"  he  exclaimed.  "  I'll  take  care  to  let  them 
know  in  Washington  about  it."  "  Heaven  don't  come  in  for  much  about 
here,  just  now,"  I  said  ;  "  and  as  for  Washington,  it  will  be  long  enough 
before  we  see  it  again  ;  time  enough  to  forget  about  this." 

lie  had  been  introduced  into  an  unfamiliar  life  in  joining  me  and  had 
been  surprised  into  continued  excitements  by  the  strange  scenes  which 
were  going  on  around  him.  My  surroundings  were  very  much  unlike  the 
narrow  space  and  placid  uniformity  of  a  man-of-war's  deck,  and  to  him  the 
cimntry  seemed  ali\e  with  unexpected  occurrences.  Though  himself  was 
not,  his  ideas  were,  very  much  at  sea.  lie  was  full  of  admiration  for  my 
men  and  their  singular  htness  for  the  life  they  were  leading.  He  shared 
my  lodge,  but  this  night  his  excitement  would  not  let  him  sleep,  and  we 
remained  long  awake  ;  talking  over  the  incidents  of  the  day  and  speculat- 
in<;  over  what  was  to  come  in  the  events  that  seemed  near  at  hand.  Nor 
was  there  much  sleeping  in  the  camp  that  night,  but  nothing  disturbed  its 
quiet.     No  attack  was  made. 

The  night  was  clear  and  I  obtained  obser\ations  here  which  gave  what 
may  be  assumed  for  the  longitude  of  the  outlet  121°  52'  08'  ,  and  for  its 
latitude  42°  41'  30".  To  this  river  I  gave  the  name  of  my  friend,  P"o- 
fessor  Torrey,  who,  with  all  the  enthusiasm  that  goes  with  a  true  love  of 
science,  had  aided  me  in  determining  the  botany  of  the  country. 

The  next  day  we  moved  late  out  of  camp  and  travelled  to  the  south- 


'tl! 


vm 


1   i' 

i'  it 

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.  't 


It-  I 

1: 


!  <"  i 


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■H  .i: 


fflf  !  ' 


ilii  >  1 


mtii' 


s-il! 


f    '! 


li:   ,.    I 


496 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE—JOHX  CHARLES  J'R/:M0XT. 


ward  alonif  the  lake.  I  kept  the  ^■jround  well  covered  with  seoiits,  kiiow- 
iiifjf  the  darinj^  charaeter  of  the  Tlainaths.  We  made  a  short  day's  march 
and  encamped  in  woods  and  built  a  corral.  On  the  following  da\  we  con- 
tinued the  march,  still  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  lake,  and  in  tiie  c\eniivr 
made  camp  at  its  southeastern  end,  on  a  creek  to  which  I  gave  the  name  of 
one  of  the  Delaware,  We-to-wah.  Indians  were  seen  frecjuentl}-  duriiv 
the  dav.  Observations  placed  the  mouth  of  this  creek  in  longitude  ur' 
41'  23",  latitude  42"  21' 43".  As  had  become  usual  we  made  a  corral  to 
secure  tlie  safety  of  the  animals.  This  was  our  last  camp  on  the  lake. 
Here  I  turned  awav-  from  our  comrades  whom  I  had  left  among  the  pines. 
J3ut  tiicy  Wf.-e  not  neglected.  When  the  Tlamaths  tell  the  story  of  the 
night  attack  where  they  were  killed,  there  will  be  no  boasting.  The\  will 
ha\e  to  tell  also  of  the  death  of  their  chief  and  of  our  swift  retaliation- 
and  how  the  people  at  the  fishery  had  to  mourn  for  the  loss  of  their  men 
and  the  destruction  of  their  village.  It  will  be  a  story  for  them  to  hand 
down  while  there  are  any  Tlamaths  on  their  lake. 

The  pines  in  these  forests  were  mosth'  full-grown  trees,  and  for  many  a 
year  our  log  forts  around  the  lake  will  endure,  and  other  travellers  niav 
find  refuge  in  them,  or  wonder,  in  the  present  quiet,  what  had  once  broken 
the  silence  of  the  forest.  Making  open  spots  in  the  woods  where  the  sun- 
shine can  rest  longest,  the  trees  that  encircle  them  will  be  fuller-headed, 
and  grass  and  flowers  will  be  more  luxuriant  in  the  protection  of  their 
enclosure,  so  that  they  ma}'  long  remain  marked  places. 

The  next  day  brought  no  unusual  incident.  On  the  day  following  I  was 
travelling  along  a  well-worn  trail  when  1  came  upon  a  fresh  scalp  on  an 
arrow  which  had  been  stuck  up  in  the  path.  Maxwell  and  Archambeau 
were  ahead,  and  in  the  evening  they  rej)orted  that  riding  along  tlie  trail 
thev  met  an  Indian  who,  on  seeing  them,  laid  down  a  buncii  of  \ounu' 
crows  which  he  had  in  his  hand,  and  forthwith  and  without  parley  id  l]\ 
an  arrow  at  Maxwell,  who  was  foremost.  lie  threw  himself  from  his  lior-c 
just  in  time  to  escape  the  arrow,  which  passed  over  the  seat  of  his  saddle. 
and,  after  a  brief  interchange  of  rifle-balls  and  arrows,  the  Indian  was  killed 
and  his  scalp  put  up  in  the  trail  to  tell  the  story.  We  were  getting  rouirh- 
ened  into  Indian  customs. 

Our  route  was  now  amonsr  the  hills  over  ground  where  we  had  alreadv 
just  tra\elled  in  going  north  and  bordering  the  valley  of  the  upper  Sacra- 
mento, which,  as  I  have  said,  was  known  to  trappers  under  the  name  of  Pitt 
River.  The  spring  now  gave  its  attraction  and  freshness  to  the  wlmle 
region.  The  rolling  surface  of  the  hills  was  green  up  to  the  timbured 
ridges  of  the  Cascade  range  which  we  were  skirting  along;  but,  above, 
the  unconquerable  peaks  still  were  clothed  with  snow,  and  glittered  cool  in 
their  solitarv  heights. 


thMONT. 

with  scouts,  know- 
short  (lay's  march 
owing  clii}-  \vc  con- 
and  in  tlic  evening; 
1  gave  tlic  name  of 
.  frequently  during 
k  in  longitude  121' 
e  made  a  corral  to 
camp  on  the  lake. 
;ft  among  the  pines. 
ell  the  story  oi  tlie 
toasting.     They  will 
our  swift  retaliation; 
:ie  loss  of  their  men 
ry  for  them  to  hand 

rees,  and  for  many  ;i 
other  travellers  may 
•hat  had  once  broken 
v'oods  where  the  sun- 
will  be  fuller-hcadetl. 


leir 


ri 


protection  of  tl 


le  day  following  I  was 
I  a  fresh  scalp  on  an 
ell  and  Archambe.iu 
ding  along   the  lr;r,l 
a  bunch    of    yoiini: 
without  parley  lei  llv 
limself  from  his  hor-e 
le  seat  of  his  saiUUe, 
the  Indian  was  killed 
were  getting  ron.irh- 

where  we  had  already 
'  of  the  upper  Sacra- 

ander  the  name  of  Pi" 
eshness  to  the  whole 
up  to  the  timhcica 
g  along;  but,  above, 
,  and  glittered  cool  m 


'11 


M 


fe  li^ 


rii 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Third  Expedition— Indians  Friendly  to  the  Ikitish. — Tlie  Junta's  Pledge. — The  Banda  of 
Ajiril  30,  1846. — (lillespie  to  Montgomery. — Memorial  of  American  Residents. — Send 
Hwisley  to  Dr.  Marsh. — Name  Golden  Gate. — liay  of  San  Francisco. — Sierra  Nevad;:. — 
.Attack  on  the  Indian  Rancherias. — Move  to  American  Fork. — I  Decide  to  Govern 
Events.— Correspondence  with  Ide.— Spiked  lourteen  Guns. — Montgomery's  Letters  — 
("itnerai  Castro's  Reejuest. — Enter  Monterey.— Commodore  Sloat  Discouraged. — Duv.- 
croft  to  Sloat. — Gov.  Price's  Statement. — Sloat  Yields  to  Mr.  Price. 

On  one  of  these  days,  being  hurried  forward  by  rifle-shots  ahead,  we 
found  Owens,  with  Stepp  and  Jacob,  engaged  with  a  party  of  Indians  who 
hat!  attacked  them  with  as  little  cerenion}'  as  the  Indian  who  had  taken 
Maxwell  for  a  mark.  One  of  them  was  left  behind  when  the  others  took 
to  the  thicker  timber.  These  Indians  deserve  their  reputation  for  daring, 
but  their  bravery  is  imprudent  and  uncalculating.  Like  tigers,  their  first 
spring  is  the  dangerous  one. 

We  were  skirting  still  the  wooded  foot-hills  of  the  great  mountains, 
antl,  journeying  along,  had  reached  the  head  of  a  rocky,  wooded  ravine, 
down  which  a  trail  that  we  had  been  following  led  into  a  cafion.  I  was 
passing  along  its  edge  when  a  strong  party  of  Indians  suddenly  issued  from 
among  the  rocks  and  timber,  and  commenced  an  attack.  They  were 
promptly  driven  into  cover  of  the  wood  and  down  the  ravine  into  the 
brush,  with  a  number  woiuided.  One  brave  refused  to  be  dislodged  from 
bcbind  a  rock  in  the  brush  on  the  side  of  the  ravine,  from  which  he  kept 
up  a  dangerous  flight  t)f  arrows.  lie  had  spread  his  arrows  on  the  groimd 
and  held  some  in  his  mouth,  and  drove  back  the  men  out  of  range  for 
some  moments,  until  Carson  crept  around  to  where  he  could  get  a  good 
view  of  him  and  shot  him  through  the  heart.  Carson  ga\e  the  bow  and 
arrows  to  Mr.  Gillespie.  The  Indians  had  seemed  bent  on  speeding  their 
parting  guest,  but  this  was  the  last  encounter  we  had  with  them. 

riieir  ambush  had  been  well  laid.  They  had  thought  we  would  cer- 
tain!) follow  the  trail  into  the  cafion,  where,  between  their  arrows  and  the 
locks  which  they  would  have  hurled  down  upon  us,  we  would  have  had 
a  mauvais  quart  iVheure  and  lost  men  as  well  as  animals.  But  in  a  bad 
country  I  usually  kept  clear  of  such  places,  and  in  all  this  journey,  except 
OT  the  night  at  Denny's  Creek,  committed  but  one  imprudence,  which  was 
ill  passing  along  the  sliore  of  the  lake  where  a  high,  naked  ridge,  its  face 


I L  .*-t 


'ih:^rii! 


i 


\\  hI; 


"M 


i 


49S 


MF.MOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE- JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


;■     1. 


so  literall}-  strewed  onct  with  jag<i^ccl  fraj^mcnts  of  rock  as  to  be  abso- 
lutely inaccessible  from  below,  skirted  the  water  for  a  number  of  miles. 
The  hidians  could  ha\e  rained  arrows  and  rock  down  upon  us,  and  \vu 
could  neither  have  got  at  them  without  great  loss,  nor  got  our  animals 
out  of  the  wa}-.  I  breathed  more  freely  when  I  was  at  the  end  of  this 
pass,  and  felt  mortiticd  that  I  needed  a  lesson. 

We  were  now  approaching  the  rougher  country  into  which  breaks  tlie 
point  of  the  last  link  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  and  at  nightfall  encamped  on 
its  waters.  We  crossed  the  mountain  upon  a  different  line,  nearer  to  tiie 
head  of  the  lower  Sacramento  vallc}-,  and,  descending,  entered  into  a  tnilv 
magniticent  forest.  It  was  composetl  mainly  of  a  cypress  and  a  lofty  white 
cedar  {71iiiya  f^>fo-(iiifea)  one  hundred  and  twenty  to  one  hundred  and  forty 
feet  higii,  common  in  the  mountains  of  California.  All  were  massive  trees, 
but  the  cypress  was  distinguished  bv  its  uniformly  great  bulk.  None  were 
seen  so  large  as  arc  to  be  found  in  the  coast  mountains  near  Santa  Cruz, 
but  there  was  a  greater  number  of  large  trees — seven  feet  being  a  common 
diameter — carrying  the  bulk  eighty  or  a  hundred  feet  without  a  limb. 

At  an  ele\  ation  of  four  thousand  six  hundred  feet  the  temperature  at 
sunset  was  48°  and  at  sunrise  37".  Oaks  already  appeared  among  tlie 
pines,  but  did  not  show  a  leaf.  In  the  meadow-marshes  of  the  forest  grass 
was  green,  but  not  yet  abu;  lant,  and  the  deer  were  poor.  Descending  the 
flanks  of  the  mountain,  which  fell  gradually  toward  the  plain,  the  wa}-  was 
through  the  same  deep  forest.  At  the  elevation  of  about  three  thousand 
feet  the  timber  had  become  more  open,  the  hills  rolling,  and  many  streams 
made  prett}-  bottoms  of  rich  grass  ;  the  black  oaks  in  full  and  beautiful 
leaf  were  thickly  studded  among  the  open  pines,  w^hich  had  become  mueh 
smaller  and  fewer  in  variety,  and  when  we  halted  near  midday,  at  an  cle\a- 
tion  of  two  thousand  two  hundred  feet,  we  were  in  one  of  the  most  pleas- 
ant days  of  early  spring,  cool  and  sunny,  with  a  pleasant  breeze,  amidst  a 
profusion  of  flowers;  many  trees  in  dark  summer  foliage,  and  some  still  in 
bloom.  Among  these  the  white  spikes  of  the  horse-chestnut,  common 
through  all  the  oak  regions,  were  conspicuous.  We  had  again  reached 
summer  weather,  and  the  temperature  at  noon  was  70°.  The  plants  we 
had  left  in  bloom  were  now  generally  in  seed,  and  many,  including  the 
characteristic  plants,  perfectly  ripe. 

In  the  afternoon  we  descended  to  the  open  valley  of  the  Sacramento. 
one  thousand  feet  lower,  where  the  thermometer  was  68°  at  sunset  and 
54°  at  sunrise.  This  was  the  best  timbered  region  that  I  had  seen,  and 
w\ns  the  more  valuable  from  its  position  near  the  head  of  the  valley  of  the 
lower  Sacramento,  and  accessible  from  its  waters. 

On  the  24th  of  May  we  reached  again  Lassen's,  and  in  the  evening  I 
wrote  to  Senator  Benton ;   a  guarded  letter,  chiefly  to  call  the  attention  of 


THIRD  EXPEDITION— IND/AAS  FRIENDLY  TO  THE  BRITISH. 


499 


Mr.  Buchanan  to  the  Indians  among  whom  I  had  been  travelling,  especially 
to  tlic  fact  that  they  were  unfriendly  to  us  but  friendly  to  the  English,  by 
wlioin  they  were  supplied  with  arms  from  a  Hudson  Bay's  post  on  the 
I'mpqua  conveniently  near  to  the  coast.  In  the  vague  condition  of  affairs 
until  the  arrival  of  Commodore  Sloat,  my  own  movements  depended  upon 
circumstances  and  of  them  I  could  sa}'  but  little. 

Sacramknto  Rivkr  (latitude  40°),  May  24,  1846. 
Mv  Dkak  Sir  :  Most  unexpected!}-,  and  in  a  remote  region  of  the 
Northern  Mountains,  I  had  the  great  pleasure  to  receive  your  letters.  An 
express  from  Mr.  Gillespie  overtook  me,  the  man  being  Neal,  whom  you 
will  remember  as  having  been  left  by  me  here  in  the  last  expedition.  No 
(itlicr  man  here  would  have  had  the  courage  and  resolution  to  follow  us.  I 
had  the  good  fortune  to  save  the  li\es  of  Mr.  Gillespie  and  party  from  the 
Indians.  In  a  charge  at  night  by  the  Tlamath  Indians  I  lost  three  men 
killed  and  had  one  dangeroush-  wounded,  being  then  with  a  detached  party 
of  fourteen  men.  You  will  regret  to  hear  that  among  the  killed  was  my 
did  companion,  Basil  Lajeunesse.  We  afterwards  fought  the  nation  from 
one  extremity  to  the  other,  and  have  ever  since  been  fighting,  until  our 
entrance  into  the  Lower  Sacramento  \alley.  I  have  but  a  faint  hope  that 
this  note  will  reach  you  before  I  do;  but  the  object  for  which  I  write  is  a 
pressing  one,  and  therefore  I  make  the  experiment.  The  Tlamath  Lake  ^ 
nn  our  last  map  I  find  to  be  only  an  expansion  of  the  river  above,  which 
passes  by  an  outlet  through  a  small  range  of  mountains  into  a  large  body  [ 
of  water  to  the  southward.  This  is  the  true  Tlamath  Lake,  and  the  heart 
of  the  Tlamath  nation.  It  is  on  the  east  side  of  a  range  of  mountains  (the 
Cascade).  Directly  west,  and  comparatively  near  at  hand,  is  the  Umpqua 
River.  Here  the  British  have  a  post.  Why  do  they  keep  it  there  "i  The 
fur  trade  will  not  justify  it.  If  there  is  to  be  any  war  with  England,  it  is 
of  <,neat  importance  that  the)-  should  instantl}-  be  driven  from  this  and 
similar  posts  before  (hoy  furnish  the  Indians  with  firearms,  and  engage 
them  in  their  serviv  ;  These  Indians  are  considered  b}-  the  Willamette 
missionaries  (who  ha^e  been  able  to  have  only  a  slight  knowledge  of  those 
on  the  north)  as  the  most  savage  and  warlike  Indians  on  the  continent. 
So  said  Mr.  Lee.  This  post  maintains  an  intercourse  with  the  Tlamaths 
and  other  mountain  Indians,  and  furnishes  them  with  the  tomahawks  and 
iron  arrow-heads  with  which  the}-  fought  us.  They  are  the  bravest  Indians 
we  have  ever  seen  ;  our  people  (my  camp,  Carson,  etc.)  consider  them  far 
iK\()nd  the  Blackfeet,  wlio  are  by  no  means  so  daring.  You  know  that 
tlie  Indians  along  the  line  of  the  Columbia  are  well  supplied  with  firearms, 
aninumition,  and  horses — hardl}-  a  man  ha\  ing  less  than  forty  or  tifty  of 
tile  hitter — that  the\-  are  brave,  friendly  to  the  British,  and  unfriendl}-  to 


n 


l-\ 


:. 


^\S 


\  m  ' 

ipr^i 

■ 

if  !>{ii  i 

Kkni' 

l^ll 

|)|i  Wvi*  H 

iS^HIl 

1 

500 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FR£moAT. 


us.  Tlicse  things  may  be  worthy  of  Mr.  Buchanan''s  attention.  Your 
letter  led  me  to  expeet  some  eommunication  from  him,  but  I  received  nolh- 
ino;  I  shall  now  proeeed  directly  homewards,  by  the  Colorado,  but  cannot 
arrive  at  the  frontier  until  late  in  September.  I  saw  a  notice  of  your  illness 
in  the  paiiers,  and  your  letter  relieved  me  of  much  anxiety.  I  trust  that  1 
will  be  able  to  force  my  way  through  this  rough  voyage,  and  tind  all  well 
on  the  frontier.  We  certainly  commenced  our  voyage  when  some  mali- 
cious and  inauspicious  star  was  in  the  ascendant,  for  we  find  enemies  and 
difficulty  everywhere.  I  detain  Mr.  Gillespie's  courier  to  write  only  to 
yourself  ;  believing,  too,  that  when  this  reaches  you  I  shall  be  near  at  hand. 
The  letters  from  home  have  taken  off  half  the  length  of  the  journey,  and  I 
have  courage  now  for  the  rest. 

Very  truly  and  respectfully, 

J.  C.  Fremont. 

The  interest  and  conjecture  following  Lieutenant  Gillespie's  arrival  at 
Sutter's,  and  his  obtaining  the  services  of  Neal  to  aid  him  in  overtakin<r  mc 
had  spread  over  the  valley,  and  I  found  the  people  anxiously  waiting  the 
result  of  his  journey;  and  expecting  so  see  me  retin-n  with  him.  In  tlie 
dearth  of  information  and  rumors  of  war,  his  coming  was  a  significant  event. 
I  found  myself  welcomed. 

Here  in  the  lower  valley  of  the  Sacramento  among  the  settlements  I 
began  to  hear  of  the  great  change  in  the  affairs  of  the  countr}'  during  niv 
absence.  Rumors  of  hostile  proceedings  on  the  part  of  the  conunandin<f 
general  were  current  ;  and  the  warning  of  Baron  (ierolt  made  inc  now 
understand  that  the  action  of  Castro  against  me  was  not  merely  a  precau- 
tionary and  isolated  moxement,  but  that  it  was  Mexico  against  the  United 
States. 

From  ofiicial  records  now  in  m>'  possession  I  subjoin  here  the  follcw- 
ing  resolutions  adopted  at  a  council  of  war  held  at  Monterey  on  the  nth 
of  April,  consequent  on  the  instructions  which  General  Castro  had  received 
from  the  Home  Government  by  the  Hannah  : 


PREAMHI.K    AXn    RESOIA'TIONS. 

In  the  port  of  Monterey  on  the  nth  day  of  April,  one  thousand  eight 
hundred  and  fortj'-six,  there  met  in  the  hall  of  the  General  Conuuandaneia 
the  officers  of  this  garrison  and  other  points  of  the  Department,  in  unity  w  ilh 
the  Prefect  of  the  District,  for  the  purpose  of  proposing  measures  for  security 
against  the  dangers  which  threaten  the  country.  The  Commanding  General 
having  shown  the  imminent  risk  of  an  invasioii  founded  on  the  extravagant 
design  of  an  American  Captain  of  the  United  States  Army,  "  Mr.  N.  (sk) 


THIRD  EXPEDITION— rilE  JUNTA'S  PLEDGE. 


501 


FREMONT. 


Fremont,"  which  individual,  althouijh  he  has  retired  to  the  interior  of  the 
Department  toward  the  North,  we  have,  according  to  notices  received,  suffi- 
cient foundation  to  fear  that  his  object  is  to  strengthen  and  provide  himself 
with  a  superior  force,  capable  of  making  resistance  and  carrying  forward  his 
views — which  he  has  not  thought  proper  to  disclose,  either  at  the  time  he 
found  himself  sufficiently  prepared  on  the  mountain  of  the  Ciavilan,  or  since. 
From  tlie  latter  place  ne  sent  a  letter  to  the  American  Consul,  in  which  he 
did  not  wish  to  explain  himself  for  fear  of  a  discovery.  All  this  gives  good 
foundation  for  suspicion  which  obliges  this  General  Commandancia  to  keep 
in  \  iew  the  interest  of  the  northern  frontiers. 

I  likewise  inform  you  that  by  the  means  of  the  Commissioner,  Don  An- 
dres Castillcro,  application  has  been  made  to  the  Supreme  Government  for 
prompt  assistance,  but  notwithstanding  whatever  confidence  we  may  have  in 
the  energy  and  efficaciousness  of  the  Supreme  Government,  or  in  the  zeal  and 
activity  of  the  Commissioner,  I  believe  it  indispensable  in  the  meantime  to 
take  such  provisional  steps  as  may  be  necessary  so  far  as  to  defend  the 
northern  frontiers  from  the  imminent  dangers  which  threaten  them,  and 
by  this  means  save  the  National  integrity.  I  likewise  submit  an  invitation 
1  received  from  his  Excellency,  the  Governor  of  the  Department,  in  which 
his  Excellency  invites  an  interview  in  Santa  Barbara.  I  conclude  by  ex- 
pressing my  wish  that  each  and  every  person  in  this  junta  will  express  his 
opinion,  and  hope  that  through  his  patriotic  deliberations,  his  prudence,  and 
his  judgment  which  he  owes  to  his  country  in  this  dangerous  crisis,  and 
that  we  shall  have  the  advantage  of  his  advice  in  taking  the  following  timely 
foresighted  indications,  such  as  that  of  guarding  the  Northern  points,  estab- 
lishing general  quarters  in  Santa  Clara,  the  same  being  the  resolution  indi- 
cated to  the  Supreme  Government. 

Each  person  having  in  succession  pledged  himself  the  junta  after  a 
lontj  discussion  determined  on  the  following: 

ARTiCLii  1st. — That,  with  the  distressing  situa*^ion  of  the  Department  in 
view,  and  until  the  danger  of  the  invasion  which  threatens  is  past,  the 
presence  of  the  Commanding  General  is  indispensably  necessary  in  the  Nor- 
thern points;  these  being  the  points  most  threatened  by  the  enemy,  and  the 
only  ones  where  the  danger  is  positive,  consequently  they  must  have  the 
preference  of  being  first  attended,  fortified,  and  covered. 

2.  That  this  shall  be  laid  before  his  Excellency,  the  Governor,  in- 
viting him  to  come  to  this  Port,  that  by  his  presence  and  co-operation  the 
necessary  assistance  may  be  more  efficacioush'  resorted  to  for  the  salvation 
of  the  Department,  and  the  integrity  of  the  Nation. 

3.  That  if,  against  all  probability,  his  Excellency  should  not  find  it  con- 
venient to  comply  with  this  invitation,  the  Commanding  General  may  proceed 
\vith  the  most  just  and  best  regulated  measures,  establishing  general  quar- 


i    ^ 


502 


MEMO/US  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRliMO.XT. 


Iji 

if 

11 

P 

i 

I'j 

fii 

fl 

'  JlK 

\L 

"•fi 

r 

.11 

i; '' 

tors  inSantii  Clara;  this  beinj^  the  most  convenient  point  for  niilit;ir\  opera- 
tions, as  being  the  nearest  in  contact  with  the  Nortiiern  points.  '\\\^. 
General,  being  in  good  understanding  with  the  Superior  authorities  of  Uk' 
District  and  their  subalterns,  on  whose  well-disposed  and  patriotic  seiUinKiUs 
he  may  rely,  will  rind  sullicient  force  for  the  present  defence  of  the  territoiN , 

4.  The  propositions  made  and  determined  on  in  the  foregoing  article  w  111 
stand  good,  until  we  obtain  from  the  Supreme  Go\ernment  its  resolutidiis 
and  assistance  by  the  aforesaid  Captain  Andres  Castillero,  and  solicited  bv 
the  principal  authorities  of  these  ports. 

5.  There  shall  be  made  an  act  of  these  presents  signed  b}-  the  Comniaiul- 
ing  General  and  all  the  indivMuals  of  the  junta  by  him  accepted;  there  shiill 
be  one  copy  remitted  to  the  Supreme  Government;  another  to  his  Ivxeel- 
lency,  the  Governor  of  the  Department,  and  the  original  shall  remain  in 
the  archives  of  the  Commandancia  General. 

(Signed)  Col.  M.  G.  V'ai.i/jo. 

LiKUT-CoL.  V.  Prudon. 

Como'g  Gen'l  Josk  Castro. 

Col.  JLAN  B.  Alvarado. 

JosK  Antonmo  Carillo,  Comdte  de  Esqiiadra. 

C  \i>T.  Manuel  Castro,  Prefect. 

Remaining  two  days  at  Lassen's,  I  moved  on  to  NeaFs  raneho.  During 
my  stay  here  neighboring  settlers  came  to  my  camp  bringing  me  inform;!- 
tion  that  the  Indians  of  the  valley  were  leaving  their  ramherias  and  takiii;,' 
to  the  mountains;  a  movement  which  indicated  preparations  for  acti\c  iios- 
tility.  Shortly  after  my  arrival  a  courier  arrived  from  Captain  Sutter  briiit;- 
ing  me  from  him  a  message  to  warn  me  that  two  Californians  had  been  sent 
by  General  Castro  amongst  the  different  Indian  tribes  to  raise  them  against 
the  settlers,  and  that  it  was  with  this  intention  that  they  had  taken  to  the 
mountains. 

Other  reports  received  here  conrirmed  this  information;  the  Indians  of 
the  valley  near  by  having  taken  to  the  mountains  and  on  their  way  killed  an 
Indian  boy  employed  on  the  raneho  who  had  refused  to  follow  them.  The 
settlers  who  had  now  learned  of  my  arrival  in  the  valley,  men  with  their 
families,  came  in  appealing  to  me  to  give  them  protection.  Looking  upon 
these  people  and  knowing  the  hardships  and  dangers  of  the  long  road  they 
had  travelled  to  reach  this  country,  I  remembered  the  barbarities  of  Indians, 
some  of  which  I  had  seen,  and  towards  women  so  cruel  that  I  could  not 
put  them  upon  paper.  An  Indian  let  loose  is  of  all  animals  the  most  savage. 
lie  has  an  imagination  for  devilment  that  seems  peculiar  to  him,  anil  a 
singular  delight  in  inflicting  suffering.  I  had  once  com.e  upon  a  scene 
where  a  band  of  savages  had  had  their  own  way — no  relief  could  come, 


THIRD  EXrEDITION.—  rJIE  BANDA  OF  APRIL  30,  KS4(!. 


5".i 


as  tlicy  thoufflit — the  men  hud  been  killed  and  mutilated — the  women, 
pinned  to  the  ground  by  stakes  driven  throujfh  their  bodies,  while  yet  alive. 

Bearing  these  in  mind  I  resoh  ed  that  there  should  be  no  sueh  seenes 
here — no  more  men  skinned  alive — no  more  women  impaled — and  I  told 
the  men  to  take  their  families  home  and  have  them  rest  in  quiet;  I  would 
take  eharj;e  of  the  Indians  and  they  mijjfht  surely  rely  on  me  not  to  leave 
the  valle\  while  there  was  any  danj^er.  Thenceforward  I  kept  careful 
watih  o\ er  the  Indians  and  their  instijj^ators. 

The  following  Bamia  or  proclamation  issued  on  the  30th  of  April  had 
inereased  the  alarm  created  by  the  movements  of  the  Indians: 

"  Being  informed  that  a  multitude  of  foreigners  abusing  our  local  circum- 
stances without  having  come  with  the  requisites  pro\ided  by  law,  are  resid- 
injj  in  the  district,  and  that  many  of  them  who  should  not  be  admitted  into 
tliis  country,  have  made  themselves  owners  of  real  property,  this  being  a 
ri<fht  belonging  only  to  citizens; 

'•  1  have  concluded  to  instruct  all  the  Judges  having  towns  under  their 
(respective)  charge,  that  they  cannot,  without  incurring  great  responsibility, 
permit  or  authorize  any  sale  or  cession  whatever  of  land,  or  of  said  class  of 
property,  outside  of  established  regulations  and  in  favor  of  Mexican  citizens; 
advising  those  foreigners  that  are  not  naturalized  and  legally  introduced  that 
whatever  purchase  or  acquisition  they  may  make  will  be  null  and  void ;  and 
that  they  will  be  subject,  unless  they  retire  voluntaril\-  from  the  country,  to 
be  expelled  from  it  w'henever  the  Government  may  find  it  convenient. 

"  God  and  Liberty. 
"Monterey,  April  30,  1846.'" 

"  The  foregoinj;  order  was  forwarded  bv  Don  Manuel  Castro.  Prefect  of 
Monterey,  to  his  Sub-Prefect  in  San  Francisco,  and  transmitted  by  the  latter 
to  the  U.  S.  Vice-Consul  at  that  port,  Lcidesdorf,  to  be  by  him  made  known 
to  the  American  settlers." 


m 


mm 


The  condition  of  affairs  was  getting  serious.  The  California  authorities 
were  evidently  reaching  out  into  the  Sacramento  vallc}".  There  was 
enough  to  satisfy  us  that  we  would  soon  be  called  upon  to  meet  their 
measures,  and  meantime  it  was  prudent  to  prepare.  Rumor  indicated  that 
they  intended  to  make  use  of  the  Indians  ;  who  were,  as  we  have  told,  nu- 
merous throughout  the  vallejs  of  the  Sacramento  and  San  Joaquin. 

After  consulting  together  it  was  therefore  decided  that  Mr.  Gillespie 
should  go  down  to  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco  with  a  requisition  upon 
Commander  Montgomery,  who  was  then  lying  at  the  anchorage  of  Yerba 
Buena,  with  the  sloop  of  war  PoHsviouth ;  and  that,  obtaining  our  needed 


ii-'i 


■P   ik 


504  MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 

supplies  from  the  ship's  stores,  he  should  acquaint  him,  so  far  as  he  felt 
authorized,  with  our  instructions  and  probable  movements. 

The  followin<;  was  the  requisition  made  upon  him  for  the  few  things 
absolutely  essential  to  the  health  and  comfort  of  the  camp. 

By  this  time  the  usual  camp  supplies  of  provisions  had  been  exhausted. 
lieef  we  could  get,  but  we  had  long  been  without  bread  and  there  was  not 
salt  for  th..  meat. 

REQUISITION. 

Lassen's  Rancho,  Sacramento  River,  May  25,  1846. 
Sir  :  There  is  required  for  the  support  of  the  exploring  party  under  my 
command,  at  present  almost  entirely  destitute,  the  following  amount  of  sup- 
plies with  which  I  respectfully  request  that  I  may  be  furnished  from  the 
public  stores. 

The  unfriendly  disposition  of  this  Government  in  the  present  doubtful 
position  of  affairs,  has  made  it  very  difficult  for  me  to  obtain  provisions,  in 
any  case  only  to  be  had  at  very  exorbitant  prices;  and  to  obtain  them  from 
our  Squadron  would  materially  aid  the  surveys  with  which  I  am  charged 
and  \ery  much  expedite  my  return  to  the  States. 

Lead  (American  rifle) 300  lbs. 

Powder i  keg. 

Percussion  Caps 8000 

Russia  Duck 25  yds. 

Flour 5  bbls. 

Sugar 600  lbs. 

Coffee,  Tea 

Pork I  bbl. 

Medicines  (common  cases,  emetics,  purges,  fevers  and  agues,  etc.) 

Soap I  box. 

Salt I  sack. 

Tobacco 300  lbs. 

Half-inch  rope  for  tent 30  Faths. 

Iron  for  Horseshoes 

Very  respectfully,  sir,  your  obedient  servant, 

(Signed)  J.  C.  Fremont, 

BL  Capt.  U.  S.  Topi.  Engineers. 
Lieutenant  Archibald  Gillespie, 

U.  S.  Marine  Corps,  Sacramento  River. 

lieutenant  Gillespie's  letter  with  requisition. 

Yerba  Buena,  Juneg,  1846. 
Sir:  Herewith  I  have  the  honor  to  enclose  a  Requisition  for  supplies, 
made  upon  me  by  Capt.  Fremont,  of  United  States  Topographical  Engl- 


fONT. 

lo  far  as  he  felt 

the  few  things 

been  exhausted. 
id  there  was  not 


[ay  25,  1846. 
party  under  my 
I  amount  of  sup- 
nished  from  the 


present  doubtful 
lin  provisions,  in 
ibtain  them  from 
h  I  am  charged 

.  .  300  lbs. 

. .  I  keg. 

.  .  8000 

.  .  25  yds. 

..  sbbls. 

. .  600  lbs. 

. .    I  bbl. 
agues,  etc.) 
.    I  box. 
.    I  sack. 
.   300  lbs. 
.   30  Paths. 

It, 

)NT, 

!)/.  Engineers, 
River. 

nSITION. 

,  June  9,  1846. 
ition  for  supplies, 
)ographical  Engi- 


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THIRD  KXPEDITIOX.—GILLESI'IE  7'c  MOMGOMERV.  305 

neers,  who  is  in  coininaiul  of  a  party  of  some  lifty  men,  ciij^'aj^ccl  upon  an 
iinpoitant  ScientifR'  Ivxpcditioii. 

Von  will  iKTCoixc  that  L'apt.  h'Tc-mont  states  "  liis  party  to  be  nearly  des- 
titute, and  under  the  unfrienilly  feeiinj;  of  the  (josernnient  of  tiiis  eountry, 
in  the  existing  position  of  affairs,  lie  is  unable  to  obtain  supplies;  and,  in  any 
lihi.',  only  at  very  exorbitant  priees."  From  the  above-mentioneil  I'ireum- 
<t;iiices,  I  am  indueed  to  enclose  this  recpiisition,  and  respeetfuUy  recpiest 
vdii  to  sujiplv  the  same  or  sueh  parts  of  it  as  you  may  be  able  to  spare;  be- 
ini;  fiillv  assured  it  will  afford  you  great  jileasure  to  render  assistance  to  a 
different  arm  of  the  Service,  engaged  upon  a  laborious  ai  1  dangerous  ex- 
pedition, exposed  to  every  kind  of  danger  and  the  greatest  hardsliips  men 
cm  endure;  oftentimes  living  upon  horseflesh,  and  at  times  without  any 
provisions  whatever. 

Capt.  Fremont  is  also  in  want  </  funds  for  the  purchase  of  animals,  as, 
upon  leaving  for  the  United  States,  it  will  be  necessary  for  him  to  purchase 
more  horses,  his  present  supply  being  travel-worn  and  almost  unfit  for  the 
>adcllc. 

The  exorbitant  rate  at  which  the  Government  Bills  are  exchanged  in- 
duce me  to  beg  you  to  supph"  Capt.  Fremont  with  fifteen  hundred  dollars 
($1500),  if  the  same  can  be  furnished  without  injur}'  to  your  own  particu- 
Lr  service;  for  which  he  will  give  the  necessary  receipts  or  bills  upon  the 
Department.  For  these  supplies  and  any  others  he  may  recei\e,  Capt. 
Fremont  will  make  due  settlement  upon  his  arrival  at  Headquarters,  Wash- 
ton  City. 

Capt.  Fremont  is  now  encamped  on  the  Sacramento,  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Feather  River,  where  he  awaits  my  return  with  such  provisions  as  I 
may  be  able  to  obtain. 

Hoping  you  will  be  able  to  make  the  supply,  I  will  only  add  that,  in  the 
event  of  the  party  receiving  from  you  the  assistance  requested,  you  may  be 
iissured  the  same  will  not  only  be  highly  appreciated  by  the  President 
and  Departments,  confer  an  obligation  upon  Capt.  Fremont  and  myself,  but 
will  recei\e  the  heartfelt  thanks  of  a  party  of  some  of  the  bra\est  and  most 
determined  men,  who  are  happy  in  suffering  privations  while  serving  their 
eountry  with  a  zeal  and  fidelity  unsurpassed  by  any  other. 

I  am,  sir,  ver}'  respectfully,  your  obedient  servant, 

(Signed)  Archik  II.  Git.t.kspie, 

1st  Lieut.  U.  S.  M.   Corps,  mid  Special  and   Coiijidetiii.:^ 
Ao-ent  for  California. 

To  Jno.  B.  Montgomery,  Esq.,  Commanding  U.  S.  Ship  Porismoutli, 
Sausa/ito,  Bay  of  San  Francisco. 

Lieut.  Gillespie  left  my  party  on  the  28th  of  May  and  on  the  following 


' '  s\ 


\^\       I: 


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'  I 


!  iiili 


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\ 


■•  :     , 

■: 

:  ^C 

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(illijii;  !| 


506 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMOXT. 


day  left  Cordua's  rancho  for  Sutter's  Fort,  j^oing  down  the  Sacramento 
bv  canoe. 

Neal,  who  had  been  on  a  visit  to  the  coast  settlements,  returned  in  com- 
pany with  Mr.  Samuel  I  lensley,  of  Missouri,  who  was  now  one  of  tiie  lead- 
ing American  Settlers.  From  him  I  learned  that  recently,  at  Yerba  Hiiciia, 
he  had  met  with  General  Ciuadalupe  Vallejo,  who  was  in  conuiiund  of  the 
northern  district  of  the  Department,  and  one  of  the  most  influential  men  of 
upper  California.  The  General  liad  informed  him  that  recentl}-  he  had  at- 
tended a  con\ention  composed  of  General  Castro,  himself,  and  ti\e  others, 
delegates  from  the  different  districts  in  California,  at  which  the  proposition 
to  separate  from  Mexico  and  establish  an  independent  go\ernment  under  the 
protection  of  a  foreign  power  had  been  debated;  but  that  the  majority  in  the 
convention  was  not  in  favor  of  placing  the  country  under  the  protection  of 
the  United  States. 

Mr.  riensley  had  returned  to  Sutter's  Fort  in  a  few  da3-s  after  the  con- 
versation with  General  Vallejo.  He  had  there  learned  from  Captain  Sut- 
ter that  there  was  great  excitement  among  the  Indians  in  the  neighborhood 
and  th.'.t  he  had  just  sent  for  the  Cosumn6  chief,  who  had  recently  returned 
from  the  California  settlements  on  the  coast.  Mr.  I  lensley  waited  for  the 
chief,  who,  on  his  coming,  was  examined  b\'  Captain  Sutter,  as  the  Alcalde 
and  Magistrate  of  the  District.  The  chief  stated  that  he  had  seen  General 
Castro  during  his  \isit  to  the  settlements,  and  that  he  had  received  from 
Castro  promise  of  great  reward  on  condition  that  he  would  excite  the  Indians 
to  burn  the  wheat  crops  of  the  American  settlers  whom  Castro  was  pre 
paring  to  drive  out  of  the  country. 

Learning  of  my  return  into  the  \allc\",  I  lensley  had  come  inmiediately 
to  me  with  this  and  other  information  which  he  had  gathered  concerniiiir 
the  designs  of  the  leading  men  among  the  Californians.  His  con\icti()n  was 
that  the  American  residents  would  ha\e  to  leave  the  country  or  fight  for 
the  homes  which  they  had  made. 

Neal  made  a  similar  report  about  the  condition  of  the  country.  The 
growing  hostility  of  the  Californian  authorities  towards  Americans  and  the 
insecurity  in  which  these  found  themselves  placed  is  shown  by  the  followini: 
letter.  This  letter  sets  out  that  arbitrary  and  flagrant  abuses  of  authority, 
and  denial  of  just  attention  to  their  representations,  and  to  their  proofs  of 
ill  treatment  by  Mexicans,  had  brought  affairs  to  such  a  condition  that 
they  petition  for  the  presence  of  an  American  man-of-war  in  the  harbor  of 
Yerba  Buena  ;  they  declare  "  that  the  situation  of  all  foreign  residents  at 
this  place  is  extremely  insecure  and  precarious  ;  and  that  the  innnediale 
presence  of  an  American  vessel  of  war  is  absolutely  needed."  Tlie  sij,nia- 
tures  comprise  all  the  best  names  of  business  men,  of  ship-captains,  and 
of  both  the   English  and  American  vice-consuls,  Forbes   and   Leidesdorl. 


EMOXr. 

1  the  Sacramento 

,  rotiirnc'cl  in  com- 
V  one  of  tlic  Icad- 
•,  at  Yerba  Bucna. 
command  of  the 
intUicntial  men  of 
ecently  he  liad  at- 
if,  and  ti\e  others, 
ch  the  proposition 
ernment  under  the 
the  majority  in  the 
■  the  protection  of 

laj's  after  the  con- 
from  Captain  Sut- 
1  the  neighborhood 
1  recently  returned 
;!ev  waited  for  tlie 
;ter,  as  the  Alcalde 
e  had  seen  General 
had  recei\ed  from 

I  excite  the  Indians 

II  Castro  was  pre^ 

jcome  immediately 
ithcred  concerninir 
His  conviction  was 

|)untry  or  fight  for 

I  the  country.     The 
Linerlcans  and  the 
[n  by  the  followins.' 
[buses  of  authority. 

to  their  proofs  of 
|i  a  condition  that 
ir  in  the  harbor  of 
[ireign  residents  at 
liat  the  immediate 
Ided."     'riK'  si-na- 

ship-captains,  and 
and   Leidesdorf. 


THIRD  EXPEDITION.— MEMORIAL  OE  AMERICAN  RESIDENTS.     507 

This  was  October  15,  1845  ;  nearly  half  a  year  before  I  was  niudc  a  pretext 
bv  Castro.  The  enmity  and  injuries  to  foreigners  were  already  existing 
facts,  and  in  keeping  with  the  special  orders  of  the  Home  Government 
a'fainst  mc  by  tlie  Hannah. 

MEMORIAL    OK    AMERICAN    RESIDENTS. 

To  the  Commander  of  the  United  States  ship  Levant  or  any  other 
United  States  vessel  of  war,  this  memorial  of  the  masters  and  supercargoes 
of  the  American  vessels,  citizens  of  the  United  States,  and  other  foreign  res- 
idents at  the  port  of  San  Francisco,  Upper  California,  respectfully  showeth: 
That  on  the  night  of  the  nth  of  October,  1845,  Captain  F211iot  Libbey, 
of  the  American  barque  Ta  so,  now  King  at  anchor  in  this  port,  was 
assaulted  on  the  public  street  of  the  town  of  Yerba  Buena  by  a  party  of 
armed  natives  of  this  country,  and  after  being  grievous!}-  wounded  by 
sundry  stabs  in  his  body,  a  dreadfid  gash  upon  his  head  and  dix'ers  other 
bruises  about  his  face  and  body,  was  left  on  the  street  weltering  in  his  blood. 
That  the  perpetrators  of  this  outrage  were  recognized  and  complaint 
made  in  form  to  the  local  authority  by  Henry  Melius,  Esq.,  supercargo  of 
the  barque  Ta.sso  ,'  who  received  an  official  answer  that  judicial  proi  eedings 
liad  been  instituted  against  tliose  individuals  ;  which  of  course  implied  that 
those  offenders  had  been  placed  separatel)'  in  confinement  to  await  their 
trial,  even  according  to  the  laws  of  this  country. 

That  it  is  a  notorious  fact  that  all  the  individuals  who  co-operated  in  the 
assault  upon  Captain  Libbey  have  been  entirely  at  liberty,  and  still  continue 
so,  walking  about  the  streets  of  this  town  and  pursuing  their  customary 
avocations  at  their  residences  on  the  neighboring  farms  and  Mission. 

That  the  repeated  arbitrarj'  and  flagrant  abuses  of  the  power  \ested  in 
the  Sub-Prefect  of  the  Second  District  of  t'lis  Department  and  the  mdiffer- 
cnee  with  which  the  Depart-.nental  Executive  has  viewed  these  abuses,  par- 
ticularly vvitli  respect  to  f.)reigners,  ha\c  led  to  the  barbarous  treatment  of 
Captain  Libbey.  Foi  ilie  perpetrators  theteof  declared  before  witnesses  on 
the  spot,  that  they  only  acted  in  conformity  to  orders  they  had  received  from 
die  Sub-Prefect.  A.nd  he  ha\ing  arrogated  to  himself  the  right  to  authorize 
d.j  appearance  of  an  armed  mob  under  the  pretext  of  their  being  a  patrol, 
violated  the  very  laws  that  he  has  sworn  to  enforce  and  respect.  And  in 
consccjuence  he  should  be  held  responsible  for  such  violation. 

That  the  proper  authority  in  whom  resides  the  power  to  establish 
patrols  or  any  armed  person  whatever,  and  to  designate  their  duty,  is  the 
Military  Commandant,  who  solemnly  .".enies  ever  having  received  any  com- 
munication relative  to  ordering  out  any  patrol  on  the  night  Captain  Libbey 
was  assaulted  or  of  having  been  aware  of  that  outrage,  until  the  fact  was 
made  known  to  him  bv  an  evcwitness. 


K 

.  ill 

'}: 

:  :  ii_  :-i 

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PP' '' 

*•''  ■■'iil^ 


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5o8 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  L/FH—JO/IX  CHARLES  EREMOXT. 


i         !; 


m 


i  ! 


Ill 


That  Mr.  Xatlian  Spoar,  a  citizen  of  the  United  States  of  America,  and 
for  a  number  of  years  a  resident  of  this  country,  was  also  assaulted  bv  the 
same  party  that  wounded  Captain  Libbey,  and  recei\ed  from  them  sc\eral 
severe  contusions  upon  the  head  and  shoulders,  causing  him  grievous  injurv. 
liaving  only  escaped  being  nundered  by  a  precipitate  flight. 

That  your  memorialists  are  aware  that  in  cases  of  this  kind  thev  should 
have  recourse  to  the  local  authorities.  This  has  been  already  done  in 
another  cause  of  complaint  some  two  months  since,  but  without  effect. 
And  now  these  authorities  sanction  by  a  tacit  consent  tiie  infamous  pro- 
ceedings of  these  lawless  people  and  thereby  become  accessories.  The 
persons  who  attempted  to  assassinate  Messrs.  Libbey  and  Spear  are  not 
even  arrested,  but  on  the  contrary  are  applauded  by  their  companions  for 
their  valor.  And  their  next  act  may  be  to  murder  some  supercargo  or 
seize  some  of  the  American  vessels  lying  here,  under  the  plea  that  thev  are 
enemies.  Your  memorialists  do  not  hesitate  to  declare,  that  the  situation 
of  all  foreign  residents  at  this  place  is  extremely  insecure  and  precarious  ; 
and  that  the  immediate  presence  of  an  American  vessel  of  war  in  this  port 
is  absolutely  necessary  to  inspire  a  salutary  terror  into  the  authorities  ;  and 
to  compel  them  to  render  justice  according  to  their  own  laws,  for  the  barba- 
rous treatment  received  by  Messrs.  Libbey  and  Spear. 

Your  memorialists,  therefore,  respectfully  request  that  you  will  he 
jileased  to  take  their  case  under  your  serious  consideration. 

.Vnd  your  memorialists  will  ever  pra}',  etc. 
I'crlxf  Jhiena^  Sau  Franc i\sco  Upper  California,  15/"//  October,  i'^45' 


(Signed)     Henry  Mki.ias. 

T.  C.  EVEKKTT. 

Jc)si:i'H  P.  Thompson. 

John  Wiixjn. 

Jamks  Ouhkll. 

G.  IT.  Nyk. 

A.  B.  Thompson. 

Wu.LiAM   Fishi:k. 


Nathan  Spi:ak. 
Wh.liam  S.  Hinckley. 

ElIAH  (iuiMKS. 

James  Alex.  Fokhks. 

Wm.  a.   LlUDICSnOKKE. 

Mua  )i.  Die  Pi:i)K()I<i:n.\. 

ROHEK'I'  S.  RlDLE. 


it   !|..^ 


My  geographical  work  in  the  valley  had  been  finished,  and  having  noth- 
ing more  to  do  than  observe  the  changes  made  in  the  face  of  the  country 
by  the  progress  of  the  seasons,  I  had  abundant  time  to  think  over  the  polit- 
ical situation  and  to  settle  upon  the  course  to  pursue.  I  clearly  saw  that  my 
proper  course  was  to  observe  quietly  the  progress  of  affairs  and  take  ad- 
vantage of  any  contingency  which  I  could  turn  in  favor  of  the  l!''nited  States, 
and,  where  uncertainties  arose,  to  give  my  own  country  the  benetit  of  any 
doubts  h\  taking  decided  action. 

Leaving  Lassen's  and  travelling  south  into  a  more  open  and  wider  part 


i    .•   i: 


id  tlicy  should 
•cady  done  in 
vitliout  effect, 
infamous  pro- 
ssorics.      The 
Spear  arc  not 
:ompanions  for 
supcrcariTo  or 
a  that  tlicy  are 
t  the  situation 
id  precarious  ; 
,'ar  in  this  port 
.ithoritics  ;  and 
,,  for  tlie  harba- 


;ii)i:sn()i<i  F. 
Pi:i)1^()1<i;n\. 


Id  havinsj  noth- 
)f  the  country 


•Iv  saw  tliat  my 


I  ITniled  States. 
benefit  of  any 


ind  wider  pari 


i '  i: 


li. 


i  l^ 


1 1; 


(  fir 


IK 


i:  '■•'  fr    Ir 


m 


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■ 

1 

'■ 

1^1 

, 

1 

1 

THIRD  EXPEDiriON.—SEND  HKNSIMY  TO  DR.  MARSH. 


509 


of  the  \alley,  wlicre  the  bordering  mountains  arc  low  and  showed  less  snow, 
the  tL'inperaturc  increased  rapidly. 

I  lenslcy  arid  Ncal  left  the  rancho  at  the  same  time  with  my  party ; 
their  object  being  to  notify  the  American  settlers  in  the  valley  to  meet  and 
take  measures  for  the  common  safety. 

Mv  camp,  wherever  it  might  be,  was  iippointed  the  place  of  meeting. 
1  commissioned  Ilcnsley  to  visit  Dr.  Marsh,  an  American  living  on  the 
southern  side  of  the  bay.  He  was  a  man  of  marked  intelligence  and  sa- 
i^aeity  ;  favorable  to  American  interests  and  likely  to  be  well  informed  of 
anv  intended  mo\emeiit  by  the  Californian  authorities. 

On  the  2(.)th  we  encamped  on  Bear  River.  Among  the  settlers  was  a 
man  named  E/.ekiel  Mcrritt.  lie  was  tall  and  spare,  what  I  understand 
hv  "rawboned;''  a  rugged  man,  fearless  and  simple;  taking  delight  in  in- 
curring risks,  but  tractable  and  not  given  to  asking  questions  when  there 
was  something  he  was  required  to  do.  Merritt  was  my  Field-Lieutenant 
among  the  settlers. 

Information  was  brouglit  in  that  a  band  of  horses  had  been  gathered  for 
Castro  in  Sonoma,  and  were  then  on  their  way  to  his  camp.  These  were 
intercepted  by  Merritt,  the  guard  and  vaqueros  dispersed,  and  the  horses 
brought  to  my  camp. 

Looking  over  the  field  I  saw  that  prompt  prccautionar}'  measures  were 
ncccssarv  in  order  to  avail  myself  of  such  advantages  as  my  position  of- 
fered. Acting  upon  this  necessity  I  sent  Merritt  into  Sonoma  instructed  to 
surprise  the  garrison  at  that  place. 

On  the  30th  we  encamped  at  the  "  Buttes  of  Sacramento."  This  is  an 
isolated  mountain  ridge  about  six  miles  long,  and  at  the  summit  about 
2690  feet  above  the  sea.  At  our  encampment  on  a  small  run  at  the  south- 
eastern base  we  were  about  eight  hundred  feet  aboxe  the  sea.  The  morn- 
ings here  were  pleasantly  cool  for  a  few  hours,  but  before  ten  the  heat  of 
the  sun  became  very  great,  usually  tempered  by  a  refresiiing  bree/,e. 
Our  camp  was  in  one  of  the  warmest  situations  of  the  vSacramento  Valley. 
The  sunnner  winds  being  steadily  from  the  northwest,  this  block  of  moun- 
tains entirely  intercepted  them.  \V^e  felt  the  heat  Iiere  more  sensibly  than 
at  any  other  place  to  which  our  journeying  brought  us  in  California.  The 
hunters  always  left  the  camp  before  daylight,  and  were  in  by  nine  oV-U)ck, 
after  which  the  sun  grew  hot.  Game  was  very  fat  and  abundant;  upwards 
iif  eigiity  deer,  elk,  and  bear  were  killed  in  one  morning.  This  country 
was  a  perpetual  delight  to  the  Delawares.  Its  wonderful  abundance  of 
trame,  always  in  fine  condition,  and  its  comfortable  climate,  with  every- 
where water  and  wood  and  grass,  gi .  ing  the  hunter  a  good  camp  wherever 
night  might  overtake  him,  kept  them  constantly  happy.  If  they  could  have 
hecn  suddenly  transported  into  it  they  might  have  thought  that  they  had 


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510 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE—JOHX  CHARLES  FRliMONT. 


died  and  awakened  in  the  happy  hunting  grounds.  It  was  a  lovely  camp 
for  the  animals;  the  range  consisted  of  excellent  gr  .sses,  wild  oats  in  ticlds. 
red  and  other  \arieties  of  clover,  some  of  which  were  now  in  mature  seed 
and  others  beginning  to  flower.  Oats  were  already  drying  in  level  places 
where  exposed  to  the  full  influence  of  the  sun,  remaining  green  in  moister 
places  and  on  the  hill-slopes. 

At  this  point  I  established  the  last  main  point  for  longitude,  niakin«r 
observations  of  moon  culminations  on  the  4th  and  5th  of  June.  These 
gave  for  the  longitude  121°  38'  04".     The  latitude  was  39°  12'  03". 

During  our  stay  at  the  Buttes,  camp  was  moved  to  a  small  run  or  sprinc 
at  tlie  northeastern  base  in  longitude  121°  33'  36",  latitude  39°  14'  41".  I 
give  the  position  of  both  these  points  because  they  were  the  last  astronom- 
ical observations  made  during  this  journey. 

Here  terminated  the  geographical  work  of  the  expedition.  We  re- 
mained at  the  Buttes  luitil  the  8th  of  June,  during  which  time  the  mean 
temperature  was  64°  at  sunrise,  79°  at  9  in  the  morning,  86°  at  noon,  90°  at 
2  P.M.,  91°  at  4,  and  80°  at  sunset;  ranging  from  50°  to  79°  at  sunrise,  u-oni 
85°  to  98°  at  4  P.M.,  -ind  from  73°  to  89°  at  sunset. 

The  longitudes  established  on  the  line  of  this  journey  are  based  on  a 
series  of  astronomical  observations  resting  on  the  four  positions,  determined 
b\'  lunar  culminations.  The  position  established  here  was  the  last  of  the 
four.  This  line  of  astronomical  observations,  thus  carried  across  the 
continent,  reaches  the  Paciflc  Ocean  on  the  northern  shore  of  the  Bay  of 
Monterey. 

The  first  of  these  main  positions  is  at  the  mouth  of  the  Fontaine  qui 
Botiit  Ri\er,  on  the  upper  Arkansas;  the  second  is  on  the  eastern  shore  of 
the  Great  Salt  Lake  ;  and  two  in  the  vallc\-  of  the  Sacramento.  Later,  on 
my  return  to  Washington  when  these  observations  were  calculated,  it  was 
found  that  the}'  carried  the  coast  valleys  of  the  Sacramento  and  San  Joaquin 
about  twenty  miles  east,  and  the  line  of  the  coast  about  fourteen  miles  west 
of  their  positions  on  the  maps  and  charts  in  general  use  ;  giving  an  increase 
of  more  than  thirt}-  miles  in  the  breadth  of  the  country  below  the  Siena 
Ne\ada.  L^^pon  examination  it  was  found  that  my  positions  agreed,  nearl\, 
witli  the  observations  of  Captain  Beechcy  at  Monterey.  The  corrections  re- 
cuircd  by  the  new  positions  were  then  accordingly  made;  the  basin  of  tin.' 
'  ■  :amento  and  the  San  Joaquin  valleys  was  moved  to  the  eastward,  and 
.('  i-ne  of  the  coast  was  placed  farther  west,  conformable  to  my  obscr\a- 
uoi       n  taining  the  configurations  given  to  it  by  the  surveys  of  Vancouver. 

Wluii  'he  United  States  sloop  of  war  Portsmouth,  Commander  Mont- 
gomer} ,  reached  Boston  in  February  of  1848,  on  her  icturn  from  the  Pacific 
Ocean,  she  brought  the  information  that  an  American  whale-ship  had  Iiclmi 
recently  lost  on  the  coast  of  California  in  consequence  of  errors  in  the  charts 


ONT. 

a  lovely  camp 
I  oats  in  fields, 
,n  ni.'xture  seed 
in  level  places 
een  in  moister 

n-itude,  making; 
{  June.  These 
12'  03". 

all  run  or  spring 

:  39°  14'  4^"-  1 
e  last  astronom- 

edition.  We  re- 
1  time  the  mean 
'f  at  noon,  90°  at 
'  at  sunrise,  irom 

,•  are  based  on  a 
itions,  determined 
as  the  last  of  the 
rried  across  the 
jre  of  the  Hay  of 

the  Fonfaine  qui 
eastern  shore  of 
nento.     Later,  on 
calculated,  it  was 
:o  and  San  Joaquin 
urtcen  miles  west 
trivin*;;  an  increase 
below  the  Siena 
)ns  agreed,  nearly, 
The  corrections  re- 
the  basin  of  the 
the  eastward,  and 
.:)lc  to  my  observa- 
,ys  of  Vancouver, 
jommander  ?»Iont- 
■n  from  the  Pacitic 
|i:dc-ship  had  been 
brrors  in  the  charts 


THIRD  EXPEDITION.— XAMK  GOLDEN  GATE. 


511 


then  in  general  use,  locating  the  coast  and  islands,  from  Monterey  south,  too 
far  east.* 

The  observations  made  by  me  across  the  continent  in  this  expedition 
were  calculated  by  Prof.  Hubbard,  then  of  the  National  Observatory  in 
Washington  City,  during  the  winter  of  1847-4S;  and  a  note  from  him  on 
the  subject  of  these  observations  will  be  added  in  the  concluding  chapter 
of  this  volume. 

While  interested  in  examining  into  the  true  position  of  the  coast  of  Cal- 
ifornia I  found  it  worthy  of  notice  that  the  position  given  to  it  on  the  charts 
of  the  old  Spanish  navigators  agrees  nearly  with  that  which  would  be  as- 
signed to  it  by  the  obserx'ations  of  the  most  eminent  na\al  sur\e}'ors  of  our 
time.  The  position  which  I  have  adopted  for  Monterey  and  the  adjacent 
coast  agrees  nearly  with  that  in  which  it  had  been  placed  by  Malespina,  in 

1791- 

Of  this  skilful,  intrepid,  and  unfortunate  navigator,  Humboldt  in  his  essay 

on  "  New  Spain  "  saj's:  "  The  peculiar  merit  of  his  expedition  consists  not  only 
in  the  number  of  astronomical  observations,  but  principalh'  in  the  judicious 
method  which  was  employed  to  arrive  at  certain  results.  The  latitude  and 
longitude  of  four  points  on  the  coast,  Cape  San  Lucas,  ^Monterey,  Nootka, 
and  Fort  Mulgrave,  were  fixed  in  an  absolute  manner." 

In  closing  up  the  geographical  work  which  was  proposed  by  this  ex- 
ploration I  think  it  well  to  give  a  condensed  view  of  the  leading  ieatures 
of  California  as  I  saw  it  at  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing;  and  for  the  rea- 
son that  an  examination  of  the  face  of  the  country  and  the  connection  of  the 
interior  with  the  coast  country  through  the  barriers  of  its  mountains  was 
one  of  the  chief  objects  of  the  expedition. 

BAY    OF    SAN    FRANCISCO    AND    OEPIiNDENT   COUNTRY. 

The  Bay  of  San  Francisco  has  been  celebrated,  from  the  time  of  its  first 
discovery,  as  one  of  the  finest  in  the  world,  and  is  justly  entitled  to  tiiat 
character  e\-en  under  the  seamen's  view  of  a  mere  harbor.  But  when  all  the 
aeeessory  advantages  which  belong  to  it — fertile  and  pictm-esque  dependent 
country;  mildness  and  salubrity  of  climate;  connection  with  the  great  interior 
valley  of  the  vSacramento  and  San  Joaquin;  its  vast  resources  for  ship  tim- 
ber, grain  and  cattle^when  these  advantages  are  taken  into  the  account, 

*  "  Naval. — The  United  St.ites  sloop  of  war  J'ortsmotif/i,  Commander  Jolm  B.  Mont- 
gomery, arrived  at  lioston  on  Kriday,  from  the  Pacific  Ocean,  last  from  \'alparaiso,  February 
-31I.  Commander  Montjfomery  st,ates  that  the  British  frigate  Herald,  and  the  brig  Pandora, 
are  engaged  in  making  a  new  survey  of  the  gulf  and  coast  of  Californi;i. 

"The  whale-ship  Hope,  of  Providence,  was  recently  lost  on  the  coast,  in  consequence  of 
:in  error  iti  the  charts  now  in  general  use,  which  locate  the  coast  and  islands  from  Monterey 
t"  Ca|iu  St.  Lucas  from  fifteen  to  forty  miles  too  far  to  the  eastward." — National  Intelligencer. 


w 


^:!: 


11  ^^1 

il  Hwl  ti 

nl  EkVI 


312  MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JO KX  CHARLES  FREMOXT. 

with  its  gcojjfnipliical  position  on  tlic  line  with  Asia,  it  rises  into  an  impoi-. 
tancc  far  above  that  of  a  mere  harbor,  and  deserves  a  partieular  notice  in 
anv  aecount  of  maritime  Cahfornia.  Its  latitudinal  position  is  that  of  Lis- 
bon; its  elimate  is  that  of  southern  Italy;  settlements  upon  it  for  mure  limn 
half  a  centur}-  attest  its  healthfulness;  bold  shores  and  mountains  <,mvc  it 
fjjrandeur;  the  extent  and  fertility  of  its  dependent  country  <rive  it  ,<,Mv;it 
resources  for  ajiriculture,  commerce,  and  population. 

The  Bay  of  San  Francisco  is  separated  by  the  sea  by  low  mountain 
ranges.  Looking  from  the  peaks  of  the  vSierra  Nevada,  the  coast  moun- 
tains present  an  apparently  continuous  line,  with  only  a  single  gap,  resem- 
bling a  mountain  pass.  This  is  the  entrance  to  the  great  bay,  and  is  the 
only  water  communication  from  the  coast  to  the  interior  country.  Approach- 
ing from  the  sea,  the  coast  presents  a  bold  outline.  On  the  south,  the  bor- 
dering mountains  come  down  in  a  narrow  ridge  of  broken  hi"s,  termin.-itini; 
in  a  precipitous  point,  against  which  the  sea  breaks  heavil}'.  On  the  north- 
ern side,  the  mountain  presents  a  bold  promontory,  rising  in  a  few  miles 
to  a  height  of  two  or  three  thousand  feet.  Between  these  points  is  the  strait 
— about  one  mile  broad  in  the  narrowest  part,  and  five  miles  long  from  the 
sea  to  the  bay.  To  this  Gate  I  gave  the  name  of  Chrysapyhc.,  or  Goi,i)i;\ 
Gate;  for  the  same  reasons  that  the  harbor  of  Byzantium  (Constantinople 
afterwards),  was  called  Chrysoccras^m  GoxAW.y,  Horn.*  Passing  tliroiiLih 
this  gate,  the  bay  opens  to  the  right  and  left,  extending  in  each  direction 
about  thirty-five  miles,  having  a  total  length  of  more  than  seventy,  and  a 
coast  of  about  two  hundred  and  se\enty-tive  miles.  It  is  divided,  by  straits 
and  projecting  points,  into  three  separate  ba}s,  of  which  the  northern  two 
are  called  San  Pablo  and  Suisoon  Bays.  Within,  the  view  presented  is  of  a 
mountainous  country,  the  bay  resembling  an  interior  lake  of  deep  water, 
lying  between  parallel  ranges  of  mountains.  Islands,  which  have  the  hold 
character  of  the  shores — some  mere  masses  of  rock,  and  others  grass- 
covered,  rising  to  the  height  of  three  and  eight  hundred  feet — break  its 
surface,  and  add  to  its  picturesque  appearance.  Directly  fronting  the 
entrance,  mountains  a  few  miles  from  the  shore  rise  about  two  thousand 
feet  above  the  water,  crowned  by  a  forest  of  lofty  cypress,  which  is  visible 
from  the  sea,  and  makes  a  conspicuous  landmark  for  ^•essels  entering  the 
bay.  Behind,  the  rugged  peak  of  Mount  Diavolo,  nearly  four  thousand 
feet  high  (three  thousand  seven  hundred  and  seventy),  overlooks  the  sui- 

*  NoTK. — The  form  of  tlie  harbor  and  its  advantages  for  commerce,  and  that  before  it 
became  an  entrepot  of  Eastern  commerce,  siij^ijestcd  tlie  name  to  the  (Ireek  founders  of  I'y- 
zantium.  The  form  of  the  entrance  into  tlie  Bay  of  San  Francisco  and  its  avlvantaRcs  for 
commerce,  Asiatic  inchisive,  suggested  to  me  the  name  which  I  gave  to  tliis  entrance  ami 
which  I  jiiit  iijion  tlie  map  that  accomjianied  a  geographical  Memoir  addressed  to  the  Senate 
of  the  L'nited  St;.tes  in  June,  1848. 


ry  give  it  «,nviit 


THIRD  EXPEDIT10N.~BAV  OF  SAN  FKAXCISCO. 


5 '3 


rounding  country  of  the  bay  and  San  Joaquin.  The  immediate  shore  o( 
the  hay  derives,  from  its  proximate  and  opposite  relation  to  the  sea, 
the  name  of  Coiifra-cosfa  (eounter-coast,  or  opposite  coast).  It  presents 
ii  varied  ch.i  .icter  of  rugged  and  broken  hills,  rolling  and  undulating 
land,  and  rich  alluvial  shores  backed  by  fertile  and  wooded  ranges,  suita- 
ble for  towns,  villages,  and  farms,  with  which  it  is  beginning  to  be  dotted. 
A  low  alluvial-bottom  land,  several  miles  in  breadth,  with  occasional  open 
woods  of  oak,  borders  the  foot  of  the  mountains  around  the  southern  arm  of 
the  bay.  terminating  on  a  breadth  of  twent\-  miles  in  the  fertile  valley  of  San 
lose,  a  narrow  plain  of  rich  soil,  lying  between  ranges  from  two  to  three 
thousand  feet  high.  The  valley  is  openl}'  wooded  with  groves  of  oak,  free 
from  underbrush,  and  after  the  spring  rains  covered  with  grass.  Taken  in 
connection  with  the  valley  of  iSan  Juan,  with  which  it  forms  a  continuous 
plain,  it  is  tifty-five  miles  long  and  one  to  twenty  broad,  opening  into  smaller 
valleys  among  the  hills.  At  the  head  of  the  bay  it  is  twenty  miles  broad; 
and  about  the  same  at  the  southern  end,  where  the  soil  is  beautifully  fertile, 
covered  in  summer  with  four  or  five  varieties  of  wild  clo\er,  se\eral  feet  high. 
In  many  places  it  is  overgrown  with  wild  mustard,  growing  ten  or  twelve 
feet  high,  in  almost  impenetrable  fields,  through  which  roads  are  made  like 
lanes.  On  both  sides  the  mountains  are  fertile,  wooded,  or  co\ered  with 
ijrasses  and  scattered  trees.  On  the  west  i*:  is  protected  from  the  chilling 
influence  of  the  northwest  winds  by  the  Ciicsfa  dc  los  Ga/os  (wild-cat  ridge) 
which  separates  it  from  the  coast.  This  is  a  grassy  and  timbered  mountain, 
watered  with  small  streams,  and  wooded  on  both  sides  with  many  varieties 
of  trees  and  shrubbery,  the  heaviest  forests  of  pine  and  express  occupying 
the  western  slope.  Timber  and  shingles  are  now  obtained  from  this  menin- 
tain;  and  one  of  the  recently  discovered  quicksilver  mines  is  on  the  eastern 
side  of  the  mountain,  near  the  Pueblo  of  San  Jose.  This  range  terminates 
(Ml  the  south  in  the  yi)ino  \iicvo  point  of  Monterey  Bay,  and  on  the  north 
declines  into  a  ridge  of  broken  hills  about  five  miles  wide,  between  the  ba}- 
and  the  sea,  and  having  the  town  of  San  Francisco  on  the  bay  shore,  ncir 
its  northern  extremitv. 

Sheltered  from  the  cold  winds  and  fogs  of  the  sea,  and  having  a  soil  of 
remarkable  fertility,  the  valley  of  San  Jose  is  capable  of  producing  in  great 
perfection  many  fruits  and  grains  which  do  not  thrive  on  the  coast  in  its 
ininiediate  vicinity.  Without  taking  into  consideration  the  extraordinary 
yields  which  have  sometimes  occurred,  the  fair  a\'erage  product  of  wheat 
is  estimated  at  fifty  fold,  or  fifty  for  one  sown.  The  mission  establishments 
of  Santa  Clara  and  San  JostS,  in  the  north  end  of  the  vallex',  were  formerly, 
in  the  prosperous  days  of  the  missions,  distinguished  for  the  superiority  of 
their  wheat  crops. 

The  slope  of  alluvial  land  continues  entirely  around  the  eastern  shore  of 


m 


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5H 


.U/:.]/0/A'S  OF  MV  [.llE—JOnX  CHARLES  IREMO.XT. 


the  bay,  intersected  by  small  streams,  and  ()fferin<f  some  points  which  irood 
landin<i  and  deep  water,  with  advantaj^eous  positions  between  the  sea  aiui 
interior  country,  indicate  for  future  settlement. 

The  strait  of  Canjii/iics,  about  one  mile  wide  and  ei^ht  or  ten  fathoms 
deep,  connects  the  San  Pablo  and  Suisoon  Bays.  Around  these  bavs  smaller 
valleys  open  into  the  borderinj^  country,  and  some  of  the  streams  have  a 
short  launch  navigation,  which  serves  to  convey  produce  to  the  bay.  Missions 
and  larj^e  farms  were  established  at  the  head  of  navifjjation  on  these  streams, 
which  arc  favorable  sites  for  towns  or  villages.  The  country  around  the 
Suisoon  Bay  presents  smooth,  low  ridges  and  rounded  hills,  clothed  witlnvild 
oats,  and  more  or  less  openly  wooded  on  their  sunmiits.  Approachin;,'  its 
northern  shores  from  Sonoma  it  assumes,  though  in  a  state  of  natiu-e,  a  cul- 
tivated appearance.  Wild  oats  cover  it  in  continuous  fields,  and  herds  of 
cattle  and  bands  of  horses  are  scattered  o\er  low  hills  and  partlv  isolated 
ridges,  where  blue  mists  and  openings  among  the  abruptly  terminating  hills 
indicate  the  neighborhood  of  the  bay. 

The  Suisoon  is  connected  with  an  expansion  of  the  river  formed  h\  the 
junction  of  the  Sacramento  and  the  San  Joaquin,  which  enter  San  Fran- 
cisco Bay  in  the  same  latitude,  nearly,  as  the  mouth  of  the  Tagus  at  Lisbon. 
A  delta  of  twenty-five  miles  in  length,  divided  into  islands  by  deep  channels, 
connects  the  bay  with  the  valley  of  the  San  Joaquin  and  Sacramento,  into 
the  mouths  of  which  the  tide  flows,  and  which  enter  the  bay  together  as  one 
river. 

Such  is  the  bay,  and  the  proximate  coimtry  and  shores  of  the  bay  of  San 
Francisco.  It  is  not  a  mere  indentation  of  the  coast,  but  a  little  sea  to  itself, 
connected  with  the  ocean  by  a  defensible  gate,  opening  out  between  seventy 
and  eighty  miles  to  the  right  and  left,  upon  a  breadth  of  ten  io  lifteen,  deep 
enough  for  the  largest  ships,  with  bold  shores  suitable  for  towns  and  settle- 
ments, and  fertile  adjacent  country  for  cultivation.  The  head  of  the  ha\  is 
about  forty  miles  from  the  sea,  and  there  commences  its  connection  with  the 
noble  valleys  of  San  Joaquin  and  Sacramento. 


I'M 


ri;  If 


WESTERN    SIX)FE    OF    THE    SIERRA     NEVADA. 

The  western  flank  of  this  Sierra  belongs  to  the  maritime  region  of  Cal- 
ifornia, and  is  capable  of  adding  greatly  to  its  value.  It  is  a  long,  wide 
slope,  timbered  and  grass}-,  with  intervals  of  arable  land,  copiously  watered 
with  numerous  and  bold  streams,  and  without  the  cold  which  its  name  and 
altitude  might  imply.  In  length  it  is  the  whole  extent  of  the  long  valley  at 
its  base,  five  hundred  miles.  In  breadth,  if  is  from  forty  to  se\enty  miles 
from  the  summit  of  the  mountain  to  the  termination  of  the  foot-hills  in  the 
edge  of  the  valleys  below%  and  almost  the  whole  of  it  available  for  some  use- 
ful purpose — timber,  pasturage,  some  arable  land,  mills,  quarries — and  so 


■cr  formed  by  the 
enter  Sun  Fran- 

Taiius  at  Lisbon. 

by  deep  elianncls, 
Saeramento,  into 

y  together  as  one 

of  the  bay  of  San 
little  sea  to  itselt. 
t  between  seventy 
n  to  lifteen,  deep 
towns  and  si'ttle- 
lead  of  the  bay  is 
)nnection  with  the 


)A. 

me  region  of  Cal- 
is  a  long,  wiile 
opioiisly  watered 
lich  its  name  and 
the  long  %  alley  at 
to  se\enty  miles 
me  foot-hills  in  the 
able  for  some  use- 
(juarries — and  so 


THIRD  EXJ'EniTIOX.—SlERRA  iXEVAD 4. 


5': 


situated  as  to  be  convenient  for  use,  the  wide  slope  of  the  mountain  being 
of  easy  descent.  Timber  holds  the  first  place  in  the  advantages  of  this 
slope,  the  whole  being  heavily  wooded,  first  with  oai^s,  which  predominate 
to  about  lialf  tiie  elevation  of  the  mountain;  and  then  with  pines,  cypress, 
and  cedars,  the  pines  predominating;  and  hence,  called  the  pine  region,  as 
that  below  is  called  the  oak  region,  though  mixed  witii  other  trees.  The 
highest  summits  of  the  Sierra  are  naked,  massive  granite  rock,  covered  with 
snow,  in  sheltered  places,  all  the  year  round.  The  oaks  arc  several  \arieties 
of  white  and  black  oak,  and  evergreens,  some  of  them  resembling  live  oak. 
Of  the  white  oak  there  are  some  new  species,  attaining  a  handsome  eleva- 
tion, upon  a  stem  six  feet  in  diameter.  Acorns  of  uncommon  si/e,  and  not 
bad  taste,  used  regularly  for  food  by  the  Indians,  abound  on  these  trees,  and 
will  be  of  great  value  for  stock.  The  cypress,  pine,  and  cedar  are  betweeu 
one  hundred  and  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet  liigh,  and  five  to  twelve  feet  in 
diameter,  with  clean  solid  stems.  Grass  abounds  on  almost  all  parts  of  the 
>lope;  except  towards  the  highest  summits,  and  is  fresh  and  green  all  the 
vear  round,  being  neither  killed  by  cold  in  the  winter,  nor  dried  by  want 
of  rain  in  the  summer.  The  foot-hills  of  the  slope  are  sufficiently  fertile 
and  gentle  to  admit  of  good  settlements;  while  coves,  benches,  and  mead- 
ows of  arable  land  are  found  throughout.  Many  of  the  mountain  streams, 
some  of  them  amounting  to  considerable  rivers,  which  flow  down  the 
mountain-side,  make  handsome,  fertile  valleys.  All  these  streams  furnish 
1,'ood  water-power.  The  climate  in  the  lower  part  of  the  slope  is  that  of 
eonstant  spring,  while  above,  the  cold  is  not  in  proportion  to  the  elevation. 
Such  is  the  general  view  of  the  western  slope  of  the  great  Sierra. 

CO.X.Sr    COINTKY    NORTH    OK    THK    H.VY    OK    SAX    FRANCISCO. 

Between  the  Sacramento  valley  and  the  coast,  north  of  the  bay  of  San 
Francisco,  the  country  is  broken  into  mountain  ridges  and  rolling  hills,  with 
many  very  fertile  valleys,  made  by  lakes  and  small  streams.  In  the  interior  it 
is  wooded,  generally  with  oak,  and  immediately  along  the  coast  presents  open 
prairie  lands,  among  heavily-timbered  forests,  having  a  greater  variety  of 
trees,  and  occasionally  a  larger  growth  than  the  timbered  region  of  the 
Sierra  Xcvada.  In  some  parts  it  is  entirely  covered,  in  areas  of  many  miles, 
with  a  close  growth  of  wild  oats,  to  the  exclusion  of  almost  every  other 
plant.  In  the  latter  part  of  June  'incl  beginning  of  July,  we  found  here  a  cli- 
mate sensibly  different  from  that  of  the  Sacramento  \alley,  a  few  miles  east, 
being  much  cooler  and  moister.  In  clear  weather,  the  mornings  were  like 
those  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  in  August,  pleasant  and  cool,  following  cold, 
clear  nights.  In  that  part  lying  nearer  the  coast,  we  found  the  mornings 
sometimes  cold,  accompanied  with  chilling  winds;  and  fogs  frequently 
came  rolling  up  over  the  ridges  from  the  sea.     These   sometimes  rose  at 


III 


m 


.  1 11 


^h  r'-'^i 


5'^' 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  J.I  I' K— JOHN  CHARLES  ERiiMOXT. 


r'll 


'\:-y\ 


%  i 


tell  it 


evening;,  and  continued  until  noon  of  the  next  day.  Tliey  are  not  tlry  1)^ 
wet  mists,  lea\  inj^  tlie  faee  of  the  eountr\'  eo\ered  as  by  a  dri/zlinir  rain 
This  sometimes  causes  rust  in  wlieat  i^rown  witliin  its  influence,  but  \e<'-cta- 
bles  nourish  and  attain  extraordinary  size. 

1  learned  from  Captain  Smith,  a  resident  at  Hode^a,  that  the  \vinti.T 
months  make  a  delightful  season  rainy  days  (<;enerally  of  warm  showers i 
alternalinLi:  with  mild  and  calm,  pleasant  weather,  and  pine,  bri<,dit  skies 
much  preferable  to  the  summer,  when  the  fogs  and  strong  northwest  winds, 
which  prevail  during  the  greater  part  of  the  year,  make  the  morning  part  (if 
the  day  disagreeably  cold. 

Owing  probably  to  the  fogs,  spring  is  earlier  along  the  coast  than  in  tin.- 
interior,  where,  during  the  interval  between  the  rains,  the  ground  becomes 
very  dry.  Flowers  bloom  in  December,  and  by  the  beginning  of  Febniaiv 
grass  accpiircs  a  strong  and  luxuriant  growth,  and  fruit  trees,  peach,  pcai, 
apple,  etc.,  are  covered  with  blossoms.  In  situations  immediatelv  open  td 
the  sea  the  fruit  ripens  late,  generally  at  the  end  of  August,  being  retankd 
by  the  chilling  influence  of  the  northwest  winds;  a  short  distance  inland, 
where  intcr\ening  ridges  obstruct  these  winds  and  shelter  the  face  of  the 
country,  there  is  a  different  climate  and  a  remarkable  difference  in  the  time 
of  ripening  fruits;  the  heat  of  the  sun  has  full  influence  on  the  soil,  and  vege- 
tation goes  rapidly  to  perfection. 

The  country  in  July  began  to  present  the  dry  appearance  common  to  all 
California  as  the  summer  advances,  except  along  the  northern  coast  within 
the  influence  of  the  fogs,  or  where  the  land  is  sheltered  by  forests,  and  in  the 
moist  valleys  of  streams  and  coves  of  the  hills.  In  some  of  these  was  an  un 
commonlv  luxuriant  growth  of  oats,  still  partially  green,  while  elsewhere 
they  were  dried  up;  the  face  of  the  country  jiresenting  generally  a  mellowed 
and  ripened  appearance,  and  the  small  streams  beginning  to  lose  their  vol 
ume,  and  draw  up  into  the  hills. 

This  northern  part  of  the  coast  country  is  heavily'  timbered,  more  so  iis 
it  goes  north  to  the  Oregon  boundary  (42°),  with  m.'.ny  bold  streams  falliiii; 
directly  into  the  sea. 

INIy  camp  at  the  Buttes  became  a  rendezvous  tor  the  settlers,  and  a  centre 
of  information  for  me  and  of  confidence  for  them.  It  was  evident  from 
movements  of  the  Indians  that  the  rumored  attack  on  the  settlers  was  eer- 
tainly  intended,  and  all  signs  indicated  that  the  time  for  it  was  at  hand. 
The  wheat  throughout  the  valley  was  now  dry  and  ready  for  the  har\cst  or 
the  torch. 

Keeping  in  mind  iny  promise  to  the  settlers,  and  being  now  about  to 
move  towards  Sutter's  Fort,  where  I  intended  to  occupy  a  more  ccntr;'.! 
position,  I  thought  that  the  time  for  me  too  had  come.  I  resolved  to  antici- 
pate the  Indians  and  strike  them  a  blow  which  '     uld  make  them  recognize 


.M-ally  a  nicllowci! 
to  lose  their  vol- 


TlllKli  liXrEDITIOX.— ATTACK  OX   rilE  /MJJAX  A'AXC7//-:A/AS.     317 

th;it  L'aslio  was  far  aiui  that  I  was  I'.ear.  Aiil  I  jucl<icd  it  expedient  to  take 
,iich  pieeaiitionary  measures  as  in  my  forward  movement  would  leave  no 
iiiomy  beliiiul  to  ilestroy  the  strenj^tli  of  my  position  by  euttinj^-  off  my  sup- 
nlv  ill  eattle  and  break  eonmuinieation  with  tiie  ineomintj;  emijiiaiUs. 

Aeeordin^ly,  early  in  the  morninj;'  1  moved  (piietly  out  of  eamp  with 
the  jjreater  number  of  men,  takinjj:  the  rij^ht  or  western  bank  of  the  Saera- 
nicnto. 

Ill  deseribinjjf  the  lower  division  of  this  river  1  have  already  mentioned 
the  many  ninclit'i/'as  towards  the  head  of  its  valley.  Some  of  the  largest 
Wire  scattered  alonj;  the  ri<,dit  bank  of  the  river,  where  fish  and  the  abun- 
d;iiit  aeorn-bearintjf  trees  made  a  preferred  ijjround.  These  numbered  more 
men  than  the  smaller  nvic/ier/as  which  lay  farther  out  in  the  vallc}'  and 
ainon^  the  hills.  ' 

My  movement  was  unexpected,  and  ridiii<^  rapidly  up  the  river  we 
reached  without  discovery  the  first  rancheria  amonjif  the  hostiles.  The 
>e()Uts  who  had  been  sent  forward  n;norted  the  Indians  with  leathers  on 
their  heads,  and  faces  painted  black,  their  war  color;  and  in  the  midst  of 
their  \var  ceremonies. 

Intendin<j^  to  surprise  and  scatter  them  wc  rode  directl}'  upon  them,  and 
;it  this  place  several  Indians  were  killed  in  the  dispersion.  In  the  panic 
made  by  our  sudden  ciiar<:;e  the  Indians  jumped  into  and  swam  the  river,  a 
few  escaping  into  shelter  on  our  side  of  the  river. 

With  scarcely  a  halt  we  rode  on  towards  the  other  rancherias^  but  the 
news  of  our  attack  apparently  reached  these  as  soon  as  ourselves,  for  the 
Indians  were  escaping  from  their  villages  as  we  rode  in  among  them.  lie- 
inro  the  close  of  the  day  nearly  all  the  rancherias  had  been  visited  and  the 
Indians  dispersed ;  as  we  rode  down  the  hill  which  commanded  a  view  of  the 
river-plain,  on  which  stood  the  farthest  village  that  we  reached,  we  could 
M'e  tlie  Indians  in  commotion,  some  running  off  from  the  river  and  others 
jumping  into  it.  When  we  reached  the  rancheria  the  water  was  dotted 
with  the  heads  of  the  Indians  swimming  across.  We  had  surprised  them 
assembled  in  the  height  of  their  war  ceremonies. 

This  put  an  end  to  the  intended  attack  upon  the  whites.  The  Indians  of 
the  California  Valley  had  their  fixed  places  of  habitation  where  they  lived. 
The  tribes  on  one  river  were  rarel}-  friendly  to  those  on  anotlier.  They 
knew  that  I  came  from  tlvj  mountains,  so  that  they  could  not  take  refuge 
there.  That  if  I  should  drive  them  into  the  upper  valley  they  would  en- 
aiunter  hostile  tribes,  who  would  destroy  them.  So  that  with  the  return  to 
their  villages  the  dread  of  another  visitation  would  keep  them  on  their  good 
behavior. 

This  was  a  rude  but  necessary  measure  to  prevent  injury  to  the  whites. 
And  it  had  the  effect  which  I  intended. 


lill 


\   !,l 


s'l;  ^ :    '-'■  i 

*    1:                  ;i    ,    :    ;,; 

'■\ '  ll 


!  ■]■»■; 

!  I  ijii 


my^ 


5i« 


MEMOfRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  ER£mOX7\ 


ViM 


i;-1  i;  f; 


ill 


While  encamped  at  the  Buttcs  I  received  by  the  hand  of  Xcal  the 
following;  letter  from  Captain  Montgomery: 

U.  S.  Ship  Portsmouth, 
Bay  ok  San  Francisco,  June  t^,  1846. 

Sir  :  On  the  31st  ulto.,  the  day  previous  to  my  sailing  from  Monterey. 
a  courier  from  Lieut.  Gillespie  to  the  U.  S.  Consul  arrived  bringing  the  onh- 
definite  intelligence  of  your  movements  and  position  since  my  arrival  at  that 
port  on  the  2  2d  of  April  last.  The  instructions  under  which  I  am  now  serv- 
ing and  which  may  detain  me  until  late  in  the  fall,  or  longer,  upon  this  coast, 
ha\e  relation  specifically  to  the  objects  of  affording  protection  to  the  per- 
sons and  property  of  citizens  of  the  United  States,  and  of  maintaining  a 
watchful  care  over  the  general  interests  of  our  country.  Without  referenee 
in  any  manner  to  the  enterprise  in  which  \ou  are  so  activel}'  engaged,  the 
nature  and  subject  of  which,  except  so  far  as  I  ma\'  have  been  riglith 
informed  by  paragraph  casually  met  with  in  public  prints,  1  am  totally 
ignorant. 

I  beg  leave,  however  (availing  m3self  of  the  return  of  the  messen- 
ger), to  assure  you,  sir,  of  the  interest  I  feel  in  the  successful  prosecution 
and  issue  of  the  public  interests  committed  to  your  direction,  and  with- 
out desiring  information  further  than  you  may  deem  necessary  to  ena- 
ble me  to  aid  and  facilitate  your  operations,  to  express  my  sincere 
desire  and  readiness  to  serve  you  in  any  manner  consistent  with  other 
duties. 

Permit  me  tvj  say,  sir,  that  if  you  should  find  it  convenient  to  visit  the 
U.  S.  Ship  Portsmouth  during  her  stay  in  this  port,  that  I,  with  the  officers 
of  the  ship,  will  be  most  happy  to  see  you. 

I  shall  remain  here  probably  three  weeks  unless  unforeseen  circumstances 
require  an  earlier  movement,  and  m\-  present  intention  is  to  rctiun  to 
Monterey. 

I  am,  sir,  very  respectfully. 

Your  obedient  servant, 
(Signed)  J>><^>-  B.  Montgomery, 

Commander  U.  S.  N, 

To  Capt.  y.  C.  Frtmovt^  Upper  California. 

On  the  8th  of  June  I  broke  up  camp  at  the  Buttes  and  moved  down  the 
valley  to  my  old  encampment  on  the  American  Fork,  which  I  reached  on 
the  1 2th.  The  range  here  was  broad,  extending  towards  the  hills;  the  feed 
for  the  animals  excellent  and  abundant ;  and  the  position  was  near  the  Fort, 
which  naturally  became  the  base  of  operations. 

On  the  13th  I  w(;nt  with  a  small  party  to  "Sutter's  l^anding."  which 


Il  .andiiiii,"  wlii^' 


TiriRD  EXPEDITION.— MOVE  TO  AMERICAN  EOKK. 


was  the  place  appointed  to  meet  Lieut.  Gillespie.  He  had  reached  the 
place  at  midnight,  in  the  Portsuwuih^s  launch,  which  was  in  charge  of 
Lieut.  B.  F.  Hunter,  bringing  the  stores  for  which  I  had  made  requisition. 
Mr.  Hunter  was  accompanied  b}'  Pin-ser  Watmough  and  Asst.  Surgeon  Du- 
vall;  the  latter  ha\ing  \H)lunteered  to  visit  my  camp  in  order  to  arrange  my 
medicine  chest  and  render  any  other  assistance  in  his  power. 

Lieut.  Hunter  brought  mc  from  Commander  Montgomery  the  following 
letter,  dated  June  loth,  1846: 

SECOND    LETTER    TO    CAFT.  FREMONT    UY    LIEUT.  HUNTER. 

\5.  S.  Ship  Portsmouth, 
Bay  of  San  Francisco,  June  10,  1846. 

Sir:  Since  writing  you  by  Neal  on  the  3d  inst.,  I  have  been  by  Lieut. 
Gillespie  informed  of  your  present  position  and  circumstances,  and  made  ac- 
quainted with  your  design  to  proceed  south  with  your  party  as  far  as  Santa 
Barbara  before  striking  across  the  country  for  t!ie  L^nited  States.  1  am 
also  informed  by  Lieut.  G.  of  join-  having  expressed  to  him  a  desire  for  the 
presence  of  a  vessel  of  war  at  Santa  Barbara,  during  the  period  of  }our  tem- 
porary sojourn  in  the  \icinity  of  that  porl. 

Now,  sir,  I  am  happy  to  sa}"  that  I  feel  myself  at  liberty  to  visit  any  or 
all  ports  upon  this  coast  should  the  public  interest  require  it,  and  if,  on  the 
reeeipt  of  this,  you  shall  still  think  that  the  presence  of  a  ship  of  war  at  San- 
ta Barbara  may  prove  serviceable  to  you  in  carrying  out  the  views  of  our 
Government,  and  will  do  me  the  faxor  by  the  return  boat  to  comnninicate 
your  wishes  with  information  as  to  the  time  you  will  probably  reach  that 
part  of  the  coast,  I  shall  not  fail  (Providence  permitting)  to  meet  you  there 
with  the  Portsmoufh. 

I  feel  gratified,  sir,  in  ha\  ing  it  in  my  power  to  forward  you  by  Lieut. 
Hunter  the  amount  of  funds  asked  for  in  your  name  by  Lieut.  (iiUespie, 
with  most  of  the  articles  of  store,  etc.,  required  to  meet  the  demand  of  your 
urijent  necessity,  regretting  only  my  inability  to  furnish  '.he  whole.  You 
will  oblige  me  by  signing  the  Requisitions  and  Receipts  annexed  to  the  sev- 
eral invoices  transmitted  by  Lieut.  Hunter,  and  with  a  view  to  the  settle- 
ment of  Purser  James  II.  Watmough's  accounts  at  the  Navy  Department, 
be  pleased  to  give  an  orclcr  or  bill  (in  duplicate)  on  the  proper  Department 
of  Government,  pay..'"'  ,  to  Purser  Watmough 's  order  to  tlic  Fourth  Au- 
ditor of  the  Treasury  for  the  aggreg;ue  amount  of  mone)'  and  purser's 
stores  supplied.  Articles  having  no  jjrices  aflixed  need  only  be  receiptee 
for. 

Lieut.  Gillespie  informs  mc  that  you  may  find  it  convenient  tv)  visit  tlic 
^Wlsinonf/i  at  Santa   [Barbara  should  we  have  occasion  to  go  there;  with 


m 


1 

J 

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III  mi 

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in 

'i 

'll'l 


520 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE—JOHN  CHARLES  EREMOAT. 


this  prospect  in  \icw  I  beg  lc;ivc  again  to  assure  you  that  we  shall  all  on 
board  be  most  happy  to  sec  }ou. 

Vcr}-  rcspcctfi.ll}-, 

I  am  }our  obedient  servant, 
(Signed)  Jno.  B.  Montgomery, 

Coiiniiaiidcr   II,  S.  N. 

To  Capt.  7.  C.  FiriiWHf, 

Bt.  Capt.U.  S.  Topol.  Engineers^  N.  Califoniia. 

Not  finding  me  at  the  rendcz\ous,  Mr.  Gillespie  had  taken  the  launch 
up  into  the  American  Fork  to  await  my  arrival  and  found  there  my  main 
party.     For  a  few  days  I  remained  at  the  Landing. 

During  these  days  Merritt  came  in  with  a  small  part},  bringing  with  him 
as  prisoners  General  Vallejo,  Col.  Sal\  ador  Vallejo,  Col.  Prudon,  and  Mr. 
Jacob  Leese.  A  party  of  about  fort}'  settlers  having  surprised  and  taken 
Sonoma,  which  was  the  first  military  post  in  that  part  of  the  countiv, 
General  Vallejo  had  asked  to  be  brought  to  me,  but  I  declined  to  receive 
the  prisoners,  there  being  in  my  camp  no  suitable  accommodation,  and  thev 
were  taken  to  Sutter's  F'ort. 

Affairs  had  now  assumed  a  critical  aspect  and  I  presently  saw  that  the 
time  had  come  when  it  was  unsafe  to  leave  events  to  mature  under  unfriendly, 
or  mistaken,  direction.  I  decided  that  it  was  for  me  rather  to  govern  events 
than  to  be  governed  bv  them. 

I  knew  the  facts  of  the  situat'on.  These  I  could  not  make  known,  but 
felt  warranted  in  assuming  the  res^  onsibility  and  acting  on  my  own  knowl- 
edge. 

Against  the  Mexican  Government,  with  which  I  knew  we  were  contend- 
ing, tlie  individual  action  of  the  settlers  could  have  only  a  temporary  success, 
to  result  in  inevitable  disaster  so  soon  as  the  government  troops  were  brouirht 
to  bear  upon  them. 

But  I  represented  the  Army  and  the  Flag  of  the  United  States.  And 
the  Navy  was  apparently  co-operating  with  lue.  This  gave  to  my  move- 
ments the  national  character  which  nuist  of  necessity  be  respected  by  Mi^x- 
ico,  and  by  an\-  foreign  power  to  which  she  might  all}'  herself;  and  would 
also  hold  ()ffeiisi\e  operations  in  check  until  actual  war  between  the  govern- 
ments should  make  an  open  situation.  And,  in  order  to  plac  it  in  the 
power  of  my  government  to  disavow  my  action  should  it  become  expedient 
to  do  so,  I  drew  up  m\-  resignation  from  the  Army  to  be  sent  by  the  first 
opportunity  to  Senator  Benton  for  transmission  to  the  War  Department,  in 
the  event  of  such  a  contingency.  Captain  Sutter  was  an  ofHcer  under  the 
Mexican  Government,  and  I  thought  it  best  to  place  in  charge  of  the  I'l'rt 


wn 


THIRD  EXPEDITION— I  DECIDE  TO  GOVERN  EVENTS. 


5^1 


Mr.  Edward  Kern,  who  is  already  known  as  the  topographer  and  artist  of 
my  exploring  expedition. 

I  think  I  have  said  enough  in  journeying  along  to  have  it  understood  that 
the  men  of  my  party  were  exceptionally  good;  in  fact,  through  all  circum- 
stances upon  the  surveys,  and  here  in  a  compromising  situation,  they  went 
with  me  as  one  man.  I  hold  myself  excused  to  the  reader  if  I  dwell  upon 
•'  -m  when  the  occasion  naturally  offers.  I  like  to  do  so  as  upon  things 
pleasant  to  remember.  A  mong  them  were  two  upon  whom  my  eyes  always 
rested  with  satisfaction  on  account  of  the  tine  specimens  they  were  of  vigor- 
ous manhood.  The  calm  resolution  expressed  in  their  faces  reminded  me 
of  Cromwellian  faces  I  had  seen  in  pictures.  The  two  were  relatives, 
Hughes  and  Moore.  They  were  of  Illinois;  full  six  feet  high,  and  perfectly 
well-built,  fnir  specimens  of  Western  men. 

Hi.-idw  'wl'^wz  was  a  reasoning  man  and  to  my  surprise  undertook  to 
queat.oi  t!i'  vpediency  of  the  course  upon  which  I  was  moving,  and  to 
fore.iti;  h:u'.  consequences  probable  from  it.  He  expressed  dissent,  verging 
on  disobedience.  Under  the  circumstances  such  an  example  was  impos- 
sible. There  was  at  one  of  the  angles  of  the  Fort  a  rather  dungeon-liko 
room  which  had  the  ground  for  its  floor;  unoccupied  except  b\'  those  acti\e 
insects  which  I  believe  always  accompany  cattle  ranges,  and  which  in  Cali- 
fornia at  this  time  commanded  respect  by  their  multitude  and  indiscrim- 
inate ferocity.  This  "  dungeon  "  was  a  hot-bed  of  them  and  an  intruder  was 
as  promptly  repulsed  as  if  he  had  entered  an  abandoned  Pawnee  hut. 

Moore,  as  I  have  said,  was  of  the  kind  of  men  who  are  reasoning  beings; 
he  was  open  to  con\i.:tion  and  not  obstinate,  and  a  night  of  solitary  reflection 
—not  calm — satisfied  iv.iu  that  good  reason  was  on  my  side  and  he  rehabili- 
tated himself  forthwitn  ;'j^d  resumed  his  place.  Nor  did  he  bear  malice,  of 
which  in  truth  he  \\a.^  net  ,  apablc,  for  he  remained  with  me  during  the  Cali- 
fornia campaign  i!u-i'a:.-.h  ^o  Washington  where  he  stood  by  me  as  solidly 
as  he  had  done  in  the  tiold.  This  I  .ncntion  as  the  conrtrmatory  example 
in  my  commp.td. 

Shortly  after  my  arrival  on  the  American  Fork,  Mr.  William  Loker,  of 
Ohio,  who  was  then  staying  at  the  Fort,  came  to  me  at  the  camp,  lie  gave 
!iic  much  detailed  information  concerning  what  had  been  going  on  in  the 
iiiijrhborhood  and  in  the  coast  settlements.  He  informed  me  that  the  authori- 
'cs  at  Monterey  had  published  a  Baiida  or  Proclamation,  ordering  all  for- 
tis^ners  to  leave  th  country  at  any  date  fixed  by  tiie  government  or  they 
would  otherwise  l;c  ■ ' .  i\"en  out  by  force.  The  Iniinhi  had  been  translated  and 
5ontup  the  valley  an  t    -v,;  of  them  was  put  up  by  Mr.  Loker  at  Sutter's  Fort.* 

*This  was  the  proclamation  of  April  30th,  already  forwarded  oriuially  to  Lcidesdorf, 
■  Vice  Consul,  for  notice  to  the  American  settlers. 


'il 


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■;1 


S'-- 


MICMOIKS  OF  MY  LIFK—JOHX  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


Amonjj;  tlio  stories  spread  abroad  to  excite  the  Indians  was  one  to  the 
effect  that  all  their  land  would  be  taken  from  them  by  the  Americans.  Some 
of  General  Castro's  ollicers  too  took  down  to  Monterey  with  them  an  Indian 
of  the  Mokelumne  tribe  named  Eusebio,  who  was  by  trade  a  weaver.  He 
had  been  one  of  the  Mission  Indians  and  spoke  Spanish  understandini;lv. 
Presents  and  promises  had  been  made  him  and  he  had  been  en<;ai,rt.tl  to  hiini 
the  wiieat  of  the  settlers  in  the  Sacramento  valley.  I'pon  his  return  I^uschio 
went  about  amon^  the  Indians  of  the  nei<;hborin^  rancherias  fomentin«-  dis- 
content among  the  Indians  and  inciting  them  to  join  in  the  work  of  destruc- 
tion for  which  he  had  been  engaged.  But  forewarned  of  danger,  the  setllers 
were  watchful  and  Euselv.o  anJ  his  Indian  confederates  lost  their  li\  cs. 

On  the  2oth  of  this  nionli  '.'y  '^jarson  H.  Reading  and  Mr.  Ilenslev 
came  to  my  camp.     They  brougi  tive  information  that  (jcneral  Castro 

was  organizing  a  force  of  California ■  md  Indians,  with  the  declared  purpose 
of  attacking  m_v  camp.  Through  Dr.  !Marsh  and  other  friendlv  foreij^n 
settlers,  Mr.  Ilensley  had  been  able  to  inform  himself  thoroughly  as  to  the 
condition  of  affairs  and  the  views  of  the  Californians.  At  the  same  time  a 
courier  arrived  from  the  small  garrison  at  Sonoma  asking  for  assistance 
against  a  threatened  attack  by  a  large  force.  Tiie  courier  informed  me  that 
Lieut.  Missroom,  of  the  sloop  of  war  Por/siiioiifli,  had  been  sent  to  vSonoma 
by  Commander  Montgomery  to  inquire  concerning  the  rumors  of  outrages 
said  to  have  been  committed  against  the  people  of  the  country  bv  the  settlers. 
lie  brought  also  information  that  one  of  the  settlers  named  Ide  had  issued  a 
proclamation  declaring  California  independent  of  Mexico  and  that  he  had 
hoisted  a  tlag  bearing  a  griz/ly  bear  upon  a  white  (ield. 


It  breaks  a  little  the  course  of  the  narrative,  to  give  here  the  folh 


JWlll" 


letters,  but  they  serve  to  make  the  situation  at  this  time  more  clearly  eoni- 
prehended : 

(copy  ov  MR.  WAi.  15.  idk\s  i,i:tter.) 

Sonoma,  June  15,  1846. 

OlR     l'RKSi:Nr     IlEADQlAK'nCKS. 

Dear  Sir:  I  beg  leave  to  inform  you  by  express,  of  a  change  in  the 
political  affairs  of  Sonoma,  and  the  Sacramento  valle}-;  which  has  taken 
place  within  the  last  week.  With  the  circumstances  which  led  to  this 
change  you  are  doubtless  acquainted,  viz.:  the  hostility  of  the  Spaniards  to 
the  American  emigrants.  About  forty  days  since  a  proclamation  \va> 
issued  by  the  Spaniards,  ordering  all  foreigners  to  leave  the  country,  nncl 
forbidding  them  to  take  any  of  their  property  with  them,  at  the  same  time 
threatening  them  with  extermination  should  they  presume  to  remain  in 
the  countrv.  The  immigration  to  the  States  was  gone;  the  company  for 
Oregon  had  left  us.  There  was  now  no  alternative  but  to  die  silently. 
and  singly  by  the  hands  of  our  enemies  or  fl\"  to  meet  the  foe.     Inforniatio!; 


THIRD  F.XrEDlTlOX.  —  CORRI-.SPOXDIiXCE  WITH  IDF.. 


5^3 


had  reached  the  upper  end  of  Sacramento  valley  (where  I  resided)  that  two 
hundred   Spaniards  were  on  their  wa\"   up  the  valley  for  the  purpose  of 
dcstroyin>^    our  wheat,  burning    our  houses,   and   drivinj^    off    oiu"    cattle. 
Aroused  by  appearances  so  shocking,  a  very  few  of  us  resohed  to  meet 
our  enemy  (being  encouraged  by  the  known  presence  (A  Captain  Fremont's 
command  in  the  valley)  and  dispose  of  our  ditliculties  in  the  best  possible 
manner.     The  two  hundred  Spaniards  proved  to  be  a  band  of  horses  (about 
two  hundred)  guarded  by  a  Spanish  officer  and  fifteen  men,  being  driven 
up  the  valley  as  far  as  Captain  Sutter's,  thence  across  the  river  for  the  lower 
settlements,  for  the  declared  and   express   purpose   of   being  mounted  by 
soldiers  and  sent  back  to  enforce  said  proclamation.     In  self-defence,  those 
few  men  (viz..  twelve)  seized  the  moment  and  pursued  those  horses,  captured 
their  guard  and  drove  the  horses  to  the  neighborhood  of  Captain  Fremont's 
camp.     Still  writhing  under  the  dreadful  necessity  above  alluded  to,  we  pur- 
sued our  way  night  and  day,  adding  to  our  number  a  few  true  hearts  to 
the  number  of  thirty-four  men,  until  the  dawn  of  the  morning  of    he   14th 
inst.,  wh.en  we  charged  upon  the  Fortress  of  General  Guadaloupe  Vallejo,  and 
captured  eighteen  prisoners  (among  whom  were  three  of  the  highest  officers 
in  the   Californian   (government   and  all  the  military  officers  who  reside   in 
Sonoma)  eight  field-pieces,  two  hundred  stand  of  arms,  a  great  quantity  of 
cannt)n,  canister,  and  grape-shot,  and  a  little  less  than  one  hundred  pounds 
of  powder  ( quite  too  little  to  sustain  us  against  an  attack  by  the  use  of  can- 
non).    By  the  articles  of  capitulation  it  was  contemplated  we  were  to  be 
proxisioned  b}'  the  generosit}'  of  our  captured  general,  while  we  can  keep 
possession  or  while  opposition  renders  possession  necessary.     By    another 
arrangement  of  cannon  and  field-pieces,  we  have  strengthened  our  position 
and  continue  to  hold  it,  under  the  authority  of  twent\-f(>ur  well-armed  men 
and  (as  we  l^.ave  good  riglit  to  believe)  the  will  of  the  people.     The  Alcalde 
\vc  discharged  under  a  new  appointment,  tlie   soldiers  were  set  at   liberty, 
and  the  said  officers  were  escorted  by  ten  armed  men  to  an  asylum  under 
the  generous  protection  of  Captain  FrOmont.     This  day  we  proclaim  Cali- 
fornia a  Republic,  and  our  pledge  of  honor  that  private  property  shall  be 
protected.     Witli  this,  as  we  hear  from  various  parts  of  the  country,  the 
Spaniards  are  not  only  satisfied,  but   pleased.     We  are  situated  three  or 
four  miles  north  of  the  north  end  of  tlie  bay,  and  are  liable  to  be  attacked 
by  an  enemy  from  beyond  the  bay  but  would  repel  any  that  sh(mld  be  made 
by  the  use  of  small  arms.     We  ha\"e  not  powder  to  work  our  cannon,  and 
tlicrefore,  with  our  small  force,  could  not  long  resist  the  operations  of  can- 


non against  us 


Destined  as  we  are  to  certain  destruction  should  we  prove  unsuccessful, 
wc  iiave  the  honor  to  be  }-our  Fdhnv  Country  men,  and  whether  we  conquer 
w  perish  we  are  resoh-ed  to  approve  ourseh  es  not  unworthy  the  kindly 


!  i 


i.,,        5il 


I'    ■     '■  f  -I       '■ ' 


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■  '•■'  1 

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524 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRtlMONT. 


regards  of  those  who  "  build  to  the  honor  and  glory  of   the   American 
flag." 

It  is  our  object  and  earnest  desire  to  en:brace  the  first  opportunity  to 
unite  our  adopted  and  rescued  country,  to  the  country  of  our  early  home. 

With  every  consideration  and  by  the  will  of  the  people,  I  have  the  honor 
to  be, etc. 

Wm.  B.  Ide, 
Commander-in-Chief  at  the  Fortress  of  Sonoma. 
To  Commodore  Stockton^  of  the  U.  S.  Navy. 


p  i 


liK    '.: 


ANSWER    TO    MR.    IDE. 

U.  S.  Ship  Portsmouth, 
Sausalito,  Bay  of  San  Francisco,  June  i6,  1846. 

Sir:  On  the  point  of  despatching  an  officer  to  Sonoma  to  confer  with 
you  respecting  the  state  of  alarm  and  apprehension  into  which  your  sudden 
mo\ement  seems  to  ha\e  tl  rown  the  helpless  people  of  Sonoma  and  the 
country  around,  your  messenger,  Mr.  Todd,  arrived  and  handed  me  Nour 
communication  of  yesterday,  addressed  to  Commodore  Stockton,  but  de- 
signed, as  Mr.  Todd  said,  for  me.  The  circumstances  therein  stated,  which 
has  led  to  the  hasty  organization  of  the  foreign  population  of  this  part  of 
California  in  opposition  to  the  constituted  authorities,  had  in  part  prcvioiish' 
reached  me  through  irregular  channels  not  entirely  to  be  relied  on;  and  in 
respect  to  which  I  would  only  obsc-ve  as  a  general  rule  without  direct  ap- 
plication or  reference  to  the  position  in  which  you  stand,  that  I  hold  it  to  bo 
the  privilege  of  all  men  everywhere,  by  such  proper  means  as  they  possess,  to 
counteract  the  sinister  designs  of  treachery,  and  resist  oppression  in  what- 
ever form  or  manner  they  may  be  assailed  by  them,  and  that  a  right  motive 
and  a  just  cause  will  be  always  characterized  by  a  miid^  tender,  and  humane 
regard  for  the  securit}'  of  the  happiness,  proper  interests,  and  privileges  of 
others. 

I  am  most  happ)',  sir,  to  understand  from  Mr.  Todd,  that  these  (b\- 
proclamation)  have  been  guaranteed  to  your  prisoners  and  the  defenceless 
people  within  your  reach,  and  I  sincerely  hope  that  whatever  maybe  the  fu- 
ture course  of  the  popular  movement  in  which  you  are  engaged  that  this 
policy  may  distinguish  the  conduct  of  }'our  party  as  well  as  that  of  your 
opposers. 

Permit  me,  sir,  in  response  to  your  call  for  powder  for  the  use  of  your 
part}',  to  say  that  I  am  here  as  a  representati'.x'  of  a  government  at  peace 
(as  far  as  I  know)  with  Mexico  and  her  province  of  California,  havini:  in 
charge  the  interests  and  the  security  of  the  commerce  and  citizens  of  the 
Ignited  States  lawfully  engaged  in  their  pursuits,  and  have  no  right  or  au- 


;   American 


THIRD  EXPEDrriOX.—SrJKED  FOURTEEN  GUXS. 


525 


thority  to  furnish  munitions  of  war,  or  in  any  manner  to  take  sides  with  any 
political  part}',  or  even  indirectly  to  identify  myself,  or  official  name,  with 
any  popular  movement  (whether  of  foreign  or  native  residents)  of  the 
countr)',  and  thus,  sir,  must  decline  giving  the  required  aid. 

Lieutenant  Missroom,  the  executive  officer  of  the  U.  S.  Ship  Portsmouth^ 
under  ni}-  command,  who  will  hand  you  this,  will  explain  more  fully  than  the 
few  moments  allowed  me  to  answer  your  letter  will  permit  me  to  do. 
I  am,  sir,  your  obedient  servant, 

(Signed)  J-^'^-  ^^-  jMon'ig(jmkky, 

Coiiniuoider. 
To   Will.  B.  l(h%Esq., 

Com iinnidhig-  the  Fortress  of  Sonoma,  Upper  California. 

In  answer  now  to  the  urgent  appeals  made  by  the  settlers  for  assistance, 
1  started  for  Sonoma,  where  I  arri\ed  with  m}'  party  on  the  afternoon  of  the 
25th.  Here  I  learned  that  the  settlers  had  defeated  a  party  of  Californians 
seventy  strong,  killing  one  and  wounding  four  and  rescuing  two  prisoners 
who  were  being  taken  to  the  headquarters  of  General  Castro. 

I  was  informed  that  a  few  days  previous  a  party  of  Californians  had  cap- 
tured two  Americans  on  their  road  to  Sonoma  from  Bodega;  that  they  had 
tied  them  to  trees  and  butchered  them  with  knives. 

A  force  under  the  command  of  De  la  Torre,  a  captain  of  Mexican  cav- 
alry, was  on  this  side  of  the  bay  near  the  Mission  San  Rafael,  and  a  report 
being  brought  to  me  that  this  officer  was  being  reinforced  by  troops  cross- 
ing at  San  Pablo  under  General  Castro,  I  pushed  forward  to  the  Mission.  Ar- 
ri\  ing  there  in  the  forenoon  of  the  26th,  I  found  no  force,  but  learned  that  it 
was  upon  the  Point  of  San  Pablo  waiting  an  opportunity  to  cross.  During 
the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  letters  were  intercepted  which  required  De  la 
Torre  to  send  horses  to  the  Point  the  next  morning  to  meet  troops  from  the 
other  side;  but  the  enemy  did  not  cross  the  straits.  On  the  contrary  De  la 
Torre  retreated  with  his  command  to  Sausalito,  where  he  availed  him- 
self of  a  launch  belonging  to  Mr.  Richardson,  a  resident  there,  to  escape 
across  the  bay. 

Both  the  settlers  and  the  men  of  my  command  were  excited  against  the 
Californians  by  the  recent  murder  of  the  two  Americans,  and  not  by  the 
murder  only,  but  by  the  brutal  circumstances  attending  it.  My  scouts, 
mainly  Delawares,  influenced  by  these  feelings,  made  sharp  retaliation  and 
killed  Bereyasa  and  de  Ilaro,  who  were  the  bearc-s  of  the  intercepted 
letters. 

I  found  here  at  Sausalito  the  master  of  the  American  vessel  ]\Iosco-iv., 
Captain  William  D.  Phelps,  of  Worcester,  Massachusetts.  His  was  a  trad- 
ing vessel  visiting  the  coast  of  California  with  a  mixed  cargo  for  the  pur- 


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MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LI FK— JOHN  lHARLES  JRAMOXr. 


pose  of  exchanging  goods  with  the  Californians  for  hides  and  tallow,  which 
made  his  return  cargo.  With  him  I  airanged  for  the  use  of  one  of  his 
boats,  with  which  he  met  me  at  the  landing  before  da}light  in  the  mornin<f. 
I  took  with  me  twelve  of  ni}-  men  singled  out  as  the  best  shots; — Captain 
Phelps  and  his  boat's  crew  excited  and  pleased  to  aid  in  the  work  on 
hand.  The  captain  happened  to  have  on  board  his  ship  a  quantit}-  of  rat- 
tail  Hies,  with  some  of  which  we  supplied  ourselves.  I  had  learned  that 
little  or  no  guard  was  maintained  at  the  fort,  which  was  at  the  point  on  the 
southern  side  of  the  gate  which  makes  the  entrance  to  the  bay  and  which  I 
named  Golden  Gate.  Pulling  across  the  strait  or  avenue  of  water  which 
leads  in  from  the  Gate  we  reached  the  Fort  Point  in  the  gray  dawn  of  tiie 
morning  and  scrambled  up  the  steep  bank  just  in  time  to  see  sexeral  horse- 
men escaping  at  full  speed  towards  Tcrba  Ihieiia.  We  prompth-  spiked 
the  guns — fourteen — nearh'  all  long  brass  Spanish  pieces.  The  work  of 
spiking  was  effectuall}'  done  by  Stepp,  who  was  a  gunsmith,  and  knew  as 
well  how  to  make  a  rifle  as  to  use  one. 

The  measures  which  I  had  taken,  ending  with  the  retreat  of  De  la 
Torre,  had  freed  from  all  Mexican  authority  the  territor}-  north  of  the  Bay 
of  San  Francisco,  from  the  sea  to  Sutter''s  Fort. 

Leaving  a  force  to  protect  San  Rafael,  I  returned  to  Sonoma  upon  the  4th 
of  July,  when  the  day  was  celebrated  by  salutes  and  a  ball  in  the  eveninj;. 

During  that  and  the  following  day  the  settlers  were  organized  into  a 
battalion  consisting  of  four  companies  numbering  two  hundred  and  twenty- 
four  men.  The  force  with  which  I  had  recently  been  acting  was  one  hun- 
dred and  sixty  men. 

It  had  now  become  necessar}'  to  concentrate  the  elements  of  this  move- 
ment, in  order  to  give  it  the  utmost  efficiency  of  which  it  was  capable.  As 
was  reasonabl}'  to  be  expected  under  the  circumstances,  the  people  desired 
me  to  take  charge  of  it.  Its  existence  was  due  to  ni}-  presence  in  the  valley, 
and  at  any  time  upon  my  withdrawal  it  would  have  collapsed  with  absolute 
ruin  to  the  settlers. 

Accordingly,  the  settlers  having  met  together,  I  addressed  them  briefly, 
accepting  the  position.  In  doing  so  I  dwelt  on  the  responsibility  which  1 
had  assumed  as  an  ofliccr  of  the  United  States  Army,  trusting  to  them  to 
do  nothing  which  would  discredit  themselves  or  our  country. 

I  sent  out  parties  for  horses  to  mount  the  battalion  and  to  bring  in  cattle 
for  their  support.  The  horses  were  taken  principally  from  the  estate  of 
General  Vallejo,  and  the  cattle  from  the  government  stock-farm  at  Siiseol.* 


*The  value  of  these  and  all  other  supplies  taken  during  my  operations  in  California  was  afterward  esli- 
mated  by  a  Board  of  OlTicers  at  Washington  appointed  by  the  Government,  and  the  estimated  v.iliie 
was  appropriated  by  Congress  and  paid  to  the  respective  owners.  Sutter  also  was  paid  for  (lie  use  <if 
his  fort.  J.  C.  F, 


THIRD  EXPEDiriOX.— MONTGOMERY'S  LETTERS. 


527 


U.  S.  Ship  Portsmouth, 

Sausaliio,  June  23,  1846. 

Sir  :  By  Lieutenant  Hunter,  who  reached  the  ship  on  Saturday  evening  from  your  camp,  I 
had  the  pleasure  to  receive  your  letter  of  the  16th  inst.,  announcing  the  seasonable  reception  of 
thf  stores  forwarded  by  him.  The  last  few  days  have  teemed  with  important  events;  pointing, 
in  my  view,  to  results  momentous  to  the  interests  of  California  and  our  own  countrj'.  1  have 
determined  to  remain  where  I  am  at  present,  looking  after  the  interests  of  our  country  and 
countrymen  requiring  to  be  watched  at  this  crisis,  and  readily  comply  with  your  suggestion  to 
keep  open  the  communication  with  your  camp,  by  means  of  my  boats ;  In  pursuance  of  which  it 
is  intended  to  send  a  boat  In  the  morning  (to-morrow)  in  charge  of  Lieutenant  Revere  (who  will 
hand  you  this)  and  another  on  Saturday  next,  by  the  return  of  which  you  will  be  pleased  to  in- 
form me  whether  a  third  boat  will  be  likely  to  reach  you  at  your  present  camp  or  not.  The  sur- 
geon of  the  Portsviuutit,  Dr.  Henderson,  goes  In  the  boat  with  the  orders  to  remain  with  you 
until  the  return  of  the  next  boat,  or  longer  should  you  desire  it.  Although  aware  that  the  pub- 
lic mind  In  California  was  prepared  for  a  change  of  government,  I  little  expected  the  movement 
to  take  place  at  this  time  or  In  the  manner  it  has.  The  capture  of  the  horses  and  the  surprise 
of  Sonoma  were  master-strokes,  but  should  have  been  followed  up  by  a  rush  upon  Santa  Clara, 
where  Castro,  with  the  residue  of  ordnance  and  munitions  of  the  country,  might  have  been  taken 
by  thirty  men  at  any  time  previous  to  Saturday  evening.  Castro  must  feel  sensibly  the  loss  of 
the  two  Vallejos  and  Pruden,  as  well  as  that  of  the  arms  and  munitions  taken  at  Sonoma.  I 
have  exchanged  communications  with  the  commanders  on  both  sides,  and  others,  prescr\  ing  a 
strict  neutrality  and  avowing  my  purpose  of  scrupulously  adhering  to  this  principle ;  while  I 
confess  my  sympathies  are  wholly  with  the  gallant  little  band  In  arms  for  mutual  defence. 

Individuals  and  small  parties  from  this  section  have  been  joining  the  insurgents  at  Sonoma 
daily.  1  am  informed,  and  Lieutenant  Hunter  brings  Intelligence  of  Sutter's  union  with  them. 
An  irregular  force  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  are  said  to  have  joined  Castro  at  Santa  Clara  on 
Saturday,  brought  from  the  vicinity  of  Monterey  by  Manuel  Castro,  the  sub-prefect  of  that  place, 
and  I  am  just  informed  that  they  are  expected  to  cross  the  t  iits  and  take  horses  at  Point  San 
Pedro,  where  a  number  have  been  collected  for  their  use,  this  evening,  and  move  directly  upon 
Sonoma.  If  this  is  the  case  we  shall  soon  know  the  result.  I  yesterday  heard  of  the  arrival  of 
the  United  States  ship  Cyaiic  at  Monterey,  where  the  Congress  is  also  daily  looked  for  from  the 
Islands,  where  she  arrived  on  the  13th  of  May.  Not  a  word  of  news  have  I  yet  received  by  tlie 
Cyanc,  but  I  think  she  must  bring  from  Mazatlan  something  respecting  our  Mexican  concerns. 

I  received  a  letter  from  Castro  a  few  days  since,  a  copy  of  which,  as  It  related  solely  to  your 
imagined  operations,  I  have  thought  It  well  to  send  you  with  my  reply.  Also  two  proclamations 
this  moment  received.  Should  anything  of  consequence  reach  me  from  the  Cyaiic  before  send- 
ing the  next  boat  I  will  not  fail  to  communicate  it  to  you. 

In  the  meantime  permit  me  to  subscribe  myself 

Your  obedient  servant, 
(Signed)  Jno.  B.  Montgomery, 

Covnitander  U.  S.  N. 

To  Captain  J.  C.  Frhnpiit,  U.  S.  Topi.  Engineers.  Sacramento,  U.  California. 

N.B. — Since  writing  the  above  I  have  heard  there  Is  no  probability  of  Castro  s  movement 
upon  Sonoma  for  several  days  ;  they  are  using  great  efforts  to  purchase  arms,  etc. 

Respectfully, 
(Signed^  J-No.  B.  Montgo.mf.rv. 


U.  S.  Shu-  Portsmouth, 

Ykkha  Bukna,  June  26,  1846. 

Sir:  Since  writing  to  you  by  Lieutenant  Revere  a  force  of  seventy  Californlans,  moving 

irom  Santa  Clara  towards  Sonoma,  after  passing  the  narrows  of  this  bay  twelve  miles  to  the 

Nortlierd  of  my  anchorage,  were  met  by  a  partv  of  fifteen  of  the  revolutionists,  and  checked 

or,  as  reported,  cdmpelled  to  fall  back  with  the  loss  of  two  killed  and  two  wounded,  two  of  the 


I'    i 


11 


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k 

528 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  L1FE—J01I\  CHARLES  FRIlM02sT. 


fifteen  also  falling  by  the  fire  of  their  opponents.  This  first  success,  though  seemingly  a  small 
affair,  cannot  fail  I  think  to  give  a  favorable,  impulse  to  the  operations  of  the  insurgents  and  at- 
tract at  once  numbers  of  the  foreign  residents  to  their  aid.  Although  neutral  in  my  position,  I 
cannot  be  so  in  feeling  and  am  anxiously  looking  for  farther  intelligence,  believing  that  inactiv- 
ity in  the  circumstances  can  form  no  part  of  the  policy  of  the  Sonoma  party. 

Castro  has  written  to  me,  saying  that  "  he  had  received  advice  from  various  sources,  ilmt 
the  boats  of  the  American  ship  Portsmouth  go  about  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco  armed  for  the 
purpose  of  examining  its  trade,  etc."  This,  of  course,  I  have  very  honestly  denied,  but  informed 
him  that  I  had  sent  two  boats  since  the  loth  inst.  to  your  camp,  and  deemed  it  proper  in  the 
circumstances  to  notify  him  of  my  intention  to  despatch  another  for  the  purpose  of  communi- 
cating with  you  at  the  close  of  this  week,  since  which  I  have  heard  nothing  from  him.  He  is  at 
Santa  Clara  with  about  seventy  men,  it  is  said. 

!  have  directed  Lieutenant  Bartlett  to  bring  Surgeon  Henderson  with  him  when  he  returns, 
unless  your  detention  beyond  the  period  named  for  your  final  departure  for  the  United  States 
should  render  his  further  continuance  important,  of  which  you  will  please  be  the  judge.  Lieu- 
tenant Bartlett  will  hand  you,  sir,  a  package  for  the  Honorable  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  which  (If 
perfectly  convenient,  not  otherwise),  I  will  thank  you  to  take  charge  of,  and  forward  from  any 
point  of  communication  most  convenient  to  yourself. 

Wishing  you,  sir,  a  safe  and  pleasant  journey  to  your  country  and  home,  I  have  the  honor 
to  subscribe  myself, 

Very  respectfully,  your  obedient  servant, 

(Signed)  Jno.  B.  Montgomery, 

Commander  U.  S.  N. 

To  Captain  J.  C.  Fremont, 

U.  S.  Topi.  Engineers,  Upper  California. 


TRANSLATION  OF  GENERAL,  CASTRO 'S  LETTER. 


Office  of  the  C(jmmandant-General  of  Upper  California, 

Headquarters,  Santa  Clara,  June  23, 1846. 
The  undersigned,  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  Department,  has  had  advice  from  various 
sources,  that  the  boats  of  the  American  ship  of  war  Portsmouth,  now  anchored  in  San  Francisco, 
go  about  the  bay  armed  for  the  purpose  of  examining  its  trade,  and  as  in  the  opinion  of  the  un- 
dersigned, the  aforesaid  ship  cannot  practise  such  acts  in  a  port  which  belongs  to  the  Mexican 
nation,  he  addresses  himself  to  the  commander  of  the  aforesaid  ship,  to  the  end  that  he  will 
please  inform  him,  in  reply,  with  what  object  he  takes  those  measures ;  that,  in  consequence,  he 
may  act  in  conformity  with  his  orders  from  his  Government. 

The  undersigned  has  the  honor  to  repeat  to  the  commander  of  the  aforesaid  ship  assur- 
ances of  his  most  respectful  consideration. 
God  and  Liberty. 

(Signed)  Jose  Castro. 

To  the  Commander  of  the  American  Sloop  of  IVar  Portsmouth, 
anchored  in  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco. 


Sausalito,  July  i,  1846. 

Sir  ;  Captain  Fremont  has  requested  me  to  address  you  upon  the  subject  of  a  surgeon  being 
ordered  to  his  command.  The  daily  application  of  sick  alone  induces  him  to  urge  the  necessity 
of  his  having  a  medical  officer ;  and  he  hopes  you  will  feel  that  he  would  not  make  the  request, 
without  being  satisfied  of  your  concurrence  with  the  application  solely  with  reference  to  the 
return  of  Dr.  Henderson  to  the  ship. 

Captain  Fremont  would  address  you  himself,  were  he  not  so  much  occupied,  and  being  away 
from  his  writing  utensils,  which  are  left  at  San  Rafael.  * 


emingly  a  small 
5urj;i;nls  ami  at- 
n  rny  position,  1 
ing  that  inacliv- 

)us  sources,  iluit 
o  armofi  t(ir  liic 
icfl,  but  intomied 
it  proper  in  the 
3SC  of  communi- 
m  him.    He  is  at 

when  he  returns, 
he  United  States 
the  jud^;e.  Lieu- 
he  Navy,  which  (i( 
forward  from  any 

I  have  the  honor 


;tgomf.ry, 
ander  U.  S.  N. 


;r. 


ORNIA, 

L,  June  23, 1846, 
idvice  from  various 
:d  in  San  Francisco, 

opinion  of  the  un- 
igs  to  the  Mexican 
le  end  that  he  will 

in  consequence,  he 

Iforesaid  ship  assur- 


JosE  Castko, 


Jro,  July  I,  1 846. 
It  of  a  surgeon  being 
lo  urge  the  necessity 
It  make  the  request, 
lith  reference  to  the 

Lied,  and  being  away 


THIRD  EXPEDITION.— GENERAL  CASTRO'S  REQUEST. 


529 


We  move  to  San  Rafael  to-morrow  morning.    In  the  meantime  we  hope  tolearn  your  favor- 
able Gccision  as  to  the  foregoing  application. 

I  have  the  honor  to  be,  very  respectfully. 

Your  obedient  servant, 
(Signed)  Archi.  H.  Gii.i.kshik. 

I.i'tul.  U.  S.  Marine  Corps,  I'ic,  etc. 
To  Captain  J.  Ii.  Montgomery, 

Comwandiiig  U.  S.  Ship  Portsmouth,  Verlni  iliiena. 

P.S. — I  write  this  in  haste  on  board  the  Barque  Mose(y!i>. 

Respectfully, 
(Signed)  Aki  ill.  H.  GiLLESPIE, 

U.  S.  Ship  Pokis.mol'ih, 

Ykkha  Bukna,  July  i,  1846. 
Sir  I  have  just  received  your  note  by  Ca]  tain  Hall,  requesting,  in  the  name  of  Captain 
Frimont  that  one  of  the  medical  officers  of  the  I'ortsmouth  might  be  ordered  to  his  command. 
However  happy,  sir,  1  should  feel  in  complying  with  the  wishes  of  Captain  FrOuKjnt  in  this 
respect,  there  are  reasons  why,  in  my  view,  it  would  be  improper  to  detach  one  of  them  for  an 
indefinite  period  of  time  from  the  ship ;  but  be  pleased  with  my  respectful  regards  to  Captain  Fre- 
mont to  assure  him  of  my  readiness  to  send  one  cf  my  medical  officers  to  his  camp,  wherever 
iliat  may  be,  at  any  time  he  may  require  his  services,  and  also,  that  I  will  receive  such  of  my  sick 
or  wounded  countrymen,  or  others  under  his  command,  as  shall  stand  in  need  of  accommoda- 
tion and  medical  attendance  on  board  the  Portsmouth. 

I  am,  sir,  very  respectfully. 

Your  obedient  servant, 
(Signed)  Jni>.  B.  Montgomkrv, 

Commanding  U.  S.  Ship  J'ortsmouth. 
To  Lieutenant  A.  H.  Gillespie,  Sausalito. 

Sonoma,  July  5,  1846. 
Sir  :     I  have  the  pleasure  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  at  this  place  of  your  two  communica- 
tions, dated  June  23d  and  26th,  the  latter  highly  interesting,  in  connection  with  the  present  cri- 
sis,   1  trust  that  by  the  time  you  receive  this  note,  the  arrival  of  Commodore  Sloat  will  have  put 
an  end  to  your  neutral  position. 

Besides  owing  you  my  acknowledgments  for  the  professional  aid  of  Dr.  Henderson,  I  am 
much  indebted  to  you  for  the  pleasure  of  his  acquaintance,  as  our  pursuits  appear  to  have  been 
somewhat  similar.     I  found  him  with  Lieutencnt  Bartlett  here  on  my  arrival,  two  days  since. 

K  mi'itary  organization  of  the  force  under  arms  was  yesterday  made  at  this  place,  and 
farther  than  this  1  have  nothing  of  present  interest  to  communicate  to  you.  I  shall  to-day  con- 
tinue my  road  towards  Sutter's  Fort,  on  the  Sacramento.  Foreigners  from  below  are  daily  arriv- 
ing at  this  post,  and  we  have  information  that  upwards  of  a  hundred  good  men  are  now  in  the 
jpper  part  of  the  Sacramento  valley,  on  their  road  from  Oregon.  The  intelligence  was  brought 
tiv  a  party  of  seven  men  who  were  in  advance.  Of  these,  live  were  wounded,  one  very  danger- 
ously, in  an  attack  by  the  Indians.  This  man  was  shot  through  the  body  and  is  lying  at  one  of 
the  upper  settlements. 

-  forward  this  by  Lieutenant  Bartlett,  who  is  about  starting,  and  to  my  great  regret.  Dr. 
I'enderson  accompanies  him. 

I  trust  that  in  case  anything  of  moment  should  occur,  you  will  not  find  it  inconsistent  with 
your  convenience  and  the  strict  neutrality  of  your  position  to  give  me  some  information, 
Tlianking  yon  in  the  meantime  for  your  recent  kindness, 

I  am,  sir,  very  respectfully. 

Your  obedient  servant, 
(Signed)  J.  C.  Frk.mont, 

Bt.  Capt.  U.  S.  Topi.  Engineers. 
Captain  Jno.  B.  Montgomery, 

U.  S.  Ship  Portsmouth,  Ray  of  San  Franciseo. 


;1     ■, 

V     1 

j   :        <  ' 

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'A' 

■    1 

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>    '"Ii 

il   IP 


,1 ,  : 


53" 


MEMO/RS  OF  MY  Uri'.—JOHN  CHARLES  IR/iMOXT. 


;j"  ^■'' 


r«  f 


Lcninj;  one  c()m,).'iny  of  fifty  men  under  Captain  John  Gri<^sbv  in  com- 
inaiul  at  Sonoma,  o-i  tiie  6tli  I  set  out  on  my  return  ;  takin<f  witli  nie  sonii; 
small  brass  field-)' leees  from  the  fort,  and  reaehed  my  eneampment  on  tlio 
Ameriean  Fork  on  tlie  yth.  Before  we  arrived  at  that  plaee,  (ieneral  Castro 
had  e\  aeuated  Santa  Chira,  and  with  a  foree  reported  to  be  about  four  luin- 
dred  men  and  two  pieees  of  artillery,  eommeneed  his  retreat  upon  San  |ii;iii, 
a  former  mission  near  M(jnterey,  now  oeeupied  as  a  post  and  fortitiud  with 
ei^t^ht  pieees  of  artillery. 

On  the  evenin<f  of  the  loth  we  were  roused  into  enthusiasm  by  the  arri- 
val of  an  express  from  Captain  Monti^^omer}-,  to  inform  me  that  Commodore 
Sloat  had  raised  the  tlaj,'  at  Monterey — that  he  had  hoisted  the  fla^^  at  Ycrba 
liuena,  and  sent  one  to  Sonoma  to  be  hoisted  at  that  plaee.  He  also  sunt 
one  with  a  request  to  have  it  hoisted  at  Sutter's  Fort;  and  aeeordinylvwith 
<,neat  satisfaetion  I  had  this  done  at  sunrise  the  next  morning,  under  a  salute 
of  twenty-one  guns  amid  the  general  rejoieing  of  the  people.  This  event 
paralyzed  all  opposition. 

The  raising  of  the  Hag  at  Monterey  was  eonuiiunieated  b}-  Commodore 
Sloat  to  Commander  Montgomery,  who  made  known  to  me  the  eontcnts  of 
the  letter  as  requested.     The  following  is  a  cop\  : 

Flag-Ship  Savannah.  Mon ikkkv,  July  6, 1846. 

Snt  :  Since  I  wrote  you  lust  evening,  I  have  determined  to  hois*  the  fla^;  of  tlie  I'nited  '-'•-•es 
at  this  place  to-nnurow.  as  1  would  prefer  being  saeritlced  fcjr  doing  loo  niueli  lliu.  ino 
little 

If  you  consider  that  you  have  sufTicient  force,  or  if  FrJiinDi/  will  join  you.  you  will  lioist  the 
flag  of  the  United  Status  at  Verba  Muena,  or  at  any  other  jjroper  place,  and  take  posscssi(jn,  in 
the  name  of  the  I'nited  States,  of  the  fort,  and  that  portion  of  the  country. 

I  am  very  anxious  to  know  if  Captain  Friinoiit  will  co-operate  with  us.  Mr.  Larkin  is 
writing  to  him  by  the  launch,  and  you  will  please  put  him  in  possession  of  this  ietter  as  somi 
as  possible.     I  have  no  time  to  write  more  at  present. 

Very  respectfully,  your  obedient  servant, 

(Signed)  John  D.  Sloat, 

Comviaiider-iii-Clticf,etc. 
Commander  J.  />'.  Moiiti;omery, 

U.  S.  Ship  Portsmouth,  San  Francisco.. 

On  the  1 2th  I  reeeived  an  express  from  Commodore  Sloat,  transmitting 
to  me  his  proelamation,  and  with  a  request  to  proeeed  with  the  force  under 
my  orders  to  Monterey. 

Flag-Shu'  Savannah.  Bay  of  Monthrkv.  July  9,  1846. 

Sir  :  You  will,  no  doubt,  have  received  the  information  before  this  that  I  have  hoisted  the 
flag  of  the  United  States  at  this  place,  on  the  7th  instant ;  as  yet  all  is  quiet  and  no  resistance 
of  any  kind  has  been  made. 

I  immediately  sent  to  General  Castro  a  copy  of  my  proclamation  to  the  inhabitants  of  Cali- 
fornia, and  a  summons  to  surrender  forthwith  to  the  American  arms  the  forts,  military  posts. and 


THIRD  EXrEDiriOX.—I  DECIDE  TG  GOl'EK.V  ETEXY'S. 


5,^1 


stations,  under  liis  cominanfl.  to)j;eihcr  with  all  troops,  arms,  munitions  o(  war,  and  public  prop- 
erty I''  every  description  under  his  control  and  juri'.diition,  with  an  invitation  for  him  to  meet 
mc  immediately  at  this  place  to  enter  into  articles  of  capitulation,  that  himself,  otFicers.  soldiers, 
and  the  inhabitants  of  California,  may  receive  assurances  of  perfect  safety  to  themselves  and 
proiierty. 

1  have  this  moment  learned,  by  an  Ku^lisliman  just  arrived  from  General  Castro,  at  the 
I'lieblc.  that  General  Castro  was  probably  at  St,  John's  last  evening,  and  that  you  would  proba- 
bly be  at  the  Pueblo  at  the  same  time. 

1  have  not  as  yet  received  any  communication  from  General  Castro. 

It  is  thought  he  will  be  in  to-morrow,  or  send  some  ccjmmuuication.  This  Knglisbmaii  :;;iys 
that  when  the  general  read  my  proclamation  to  his  troops,  he  expressed  his  approl)ati<Mi  of  it; 
if  he  is  wise,  he  will  make  no  resistance, 

1  have  here  the  frigate  Sai>an>ui/i,  of  fifty-four  guns,  the  sloops  of  war  Cyaiu  and  l.,-<<iint.  of 
twenty-four  guns  each,  armed  with  32-pounder  long  guns,  68-pounder  shell  guns,  and  42-pounrler 
carroiiades,  with  a  large  coni|)leinont  of  men,  and  am  every  moment  in  expectation  of  the  arri- 
val ol  the  frigate  C'rv/^/vw.  with  sixty  32-pounder  long  guns,  at  this  place,  and  the  sloop  Eric 
with  long  i8's  at  San  I'rancisco.  1  am  extremely  anxious  to  see  you  at  your  earliest  convenience ; 
and  should  General  Castro  consent  to  enter  into  a  capitulation,  it  is  of  the  utmost  importance 
that  you  should  be  present.  I  hope,  therefore,  that  you  will  push  on  with  all  possible  despatch, 
or,  at  any  rate,  let  me  hear  from  you  immediately. 

Captain  Montgomery  sent  his  launch  down,  which  I  despatched  on  the  6lh,  informing  him 
that  I  should  take  possession  of  this  place  on  the  next  day  in  the  name  of  the  '  iiited  States, 
and  sent  him  a  copy  of  my  summons  and  proclamation,  and  also  orders  to  take  possession  of 
YiTba  Huena  and  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco  immediately,  requesting  him  to  inform  you  of 
f  facts  without  delay.  1  have  also  sent  him  three  couriers  with  the  same  i>rders  (in 
which  I  have  no  doubt  have  reached  him.  and  am  confident  that  the  flag  of  the  United 
now  Hying  there. 

Although  I  am  in  expectation  of  seeing  General  Castro,  to  enter  into  satisfactorj'  terms 
with  him.  there  may  be  a  necessity  of  one  hundred  men.  well  mounted,  who  arc  accustomed  to 
riding,  to  form  a  force  to  prevent  any  further  robbing  of  the  farmers'  houses. etc..  by  the  Indians. 
i  request  you  to  bring  in  as  many  men  up  to  that  number  with  you,  or  send  them  on  under 
charge  of  a  trusty  person,  in  case  you  may  be  delayed  for  a  day  or  two.  Should  you  find 
any  Government  horses  on  the  road,  please  bring  them  in. 
Very  respectfully,  your  obedient  ser\^ant, 

John  D.  Si.dAT, 
Coiimianilt>-in-Cliii'f  of  tlic  U.  S.  Xai'nl Eoncs  in  the  Pacific  Ocean,  etc. 

Captain   J.  C.  Fremont. 


.,1  I' 


^.!  I 


H 


!■   I 


A  few  days  had  been  occupied  in  mounting  guns,  preparing  amnunition, 
and  making  otiicr  proparjitions  for  a  campaign,  and  in  arranging  for  the 
tranquillity  of  the  Sacramento  ^•alley  dmnng  my  absence.  Before  I  set  out 
nil  this  third  expedition  the  emigration  from  the  Western  States  had  recei\ed 
a  strong  impulse  from  the  accounts  spread  abroad  of  the  singular  beaut}-  and 
fertility  of  the  California  \alley;  and  I  considered  it  safe  to  count  upon  the 
incoming  emigrants  for  a  steady  increase  of  our  strength.  Of  their  heart}' 
support  I  had  no  doubt. 

vShortly  after  the  receipt  of  the  message  from  Commodore  Sloat,  I  set 
out  upon  the  march  to  Monterey,  going  by  the  way  of  the  San  Joaquin  \i\\- 
ley  and  crossing  the  mountains  to  San  Juan.  General  Castro  had  made  here 
but  brief  halt,  and  with  the  force  which  he  had  collected  was  withdrawing 
tiAvards  Los  Angeles;  realizing  that  war  had  begun  in  earnest,  and  that  he 


™ii 


if'!! 


¥.<i\ 


m 


■y 


33- 


MEMOIKS  OF  MY  LIFF.-JOILX  C/fARLFS  FREMOXT. 


was  unable  to  contend  with  the  land  and  naval  forces  suddenly  combined  in 
the  north.  1  took  possession  of  San  Juan,  putting  only  a  few  men  in  cliarcc 
for  the  reason  that  no  further  opposition  was  to  be  apprehended  in  the  north. 
A  few  hours  after  my  arrival  Lieutenant  McLane  and  Mr.  FaunlleroN-  came 
in  with  a  reconnoitring  party. 

On  the  19th  we  continued  our  road  through  the  Gomez  Pass  towards 
Monterc}-,  gi\ing  on  the  way  a  marching  salute  to  the  Cavilan  Peak,  wliere 
in  March,  four  months  before,  we  had  hoisted  the  flag. 

It  was  a  da}-  of  excitement  when  we  entered  Monterey.  I  was  <;lad 
again  to  meet  the  ocean  breeze  and  surf.  Man}'  of  my  men  had  never  seen 
the  o':ean,  or  the  English  tiag.  Four  of  oui'  men-of-war  were  l}ing  in  the 
harbor,  ;;nd  ;ilso  the  Col1inp~voinU  eighty  guns,  liag-ship  of  Admiral  Se\. 
mour.  The  men  looked  upon  the  Co/l/i/o-cood \\\\\\  the  feeling  of  the  racer 
who  has  just  passed  ''he  winning  post. 

On  the  1 6th  a  sail  i»ove  in  sight  which  was  made  out  to  be  an  English 
line-of-battle  ship,  and  the  \essels  of  the  Anifric-m  squadron  were  signalled 
to  prepare  for  action.  I  learned  from  Midshipman  J3eale,  who  was  on  shore 
at  the  time  with  a  party  of  men  engaged  in  building  a  block-house  on  the 
hill,  that  the  signal  was  also  made  recalling  to  their  ships  all  officers  and 
men  from  shore;  and  when  he  reached  the  Congress  he  found  the  men  at 
quarters.  The  stranger  vessel  proved  to  be  the  eight}--gun  ship  Colliinr- 
-icood,  bearing  the  flag  of  Rear- Admiral  Sir  George  Se}'mour. 

The  uncertaint}'  which  existed  in  the  American  squadron  concerning 
the  action  which  miyht  be  taken  bv  the  En<rlish  admiral  is  shown  in  the 
following  extract  from  a  letter  of  the  iith  of  July  from  Commander  Mont- 
gomer}-  to  Commodore  Sloat: 

"  This  afternoon  the  yiiuo  arrixed  and  anchored   at  Sausalito.     I  sent  a 
boat  with  offer  of  service,  and,  at  the  same  time,  notified  Captain  Blake  of 
the  existing  state  of  things  in  California,  and  that  the  Hag  of  the  I'nited 
States  was  now  flying  at  Verba  Puena,  which  he  appeared  satisfied  with 
on   receiving  information  of  the  commencement  of  hostilities  between  the 
armies  of  the  l^^nited  States  and  Mexico.     On  the  appearance  of  that  ship. 
the  necessary  preparation  was  made  to  defend  our  position   in  the  event  ol 
English  oppositic  ^.  to  our  claims.     In  such  a  contingency  being  twenty  odd 
men  short,  it  would  become  absolutelv  necessary  to  withdraw  the  marines 
from  the  shore  to  the  ship;  and  to  show  the  spirit  of  our  '  Volunteer  (niards 
of  Verba  Buena,'  I  will  add,  that  to-da\-  they  vvere  .\ssembled  and  informed  hy 
Mr.  Watson  that  the  flag  of  the  Ignited  Staies  would,  by  our  necessity,  Iwnv 
to  be  committed  to  their  cjre,  and  that  we  trusted  to  their  spirit  anJ  honor 
to  keep  it  Hying;  when  they  unanimously  ga\e  the  strongest  assurances  ihit 
it  should  wave  while  a  sin<de  man  of  the  "  (Guards  "  lixed  to  defend  it." 


RJLMOXT. 

icUk'nly  coinbinod  in 

few  men  in  cliargc, 

;hcndcd  in  the  ncirth. 

Ir.  Fauntlcroy  eanie 

romcz  Pass  towards 
C'avilan  Peak,  where 

intcrey.  I  was  ulad 
•  men  had  never  seen 
ar  were  lyin^  in  the 
,hip  of  Admiral  Sey- 
le  feeling  of  the  racer 

nut  to  be  an  Englisli 
ladron  were  signalled 
ale,  who  was  on  shore 
a  block-house  on  the 

ships  all  oflieers  and 
he  found  the  men  at 
hty-gun  ship  C'(>///;y- 
cymour. 

squadron  eoneerivn^' 
liral  is  shown  in  the 

m  Commander  Mont- 


It  Sausalito.     I  sent  a 

itied  Captain  Blake  of 

le  flag   of  the  I'niled 

ppeared   satisfied  with 

ostihties  between  the 

-.earanee  of  that  ship. 

isition   in  the  event  ot 

ney  being  twenty  odd 

withdraw  the  marines 

ur  '  \'olunteer  (iu:ird> 

nbleil  and  informed  hy 

by  our  necersity.  have 

tiieir  spirit  and  honor 

jugest  assuranees  u.'it 

ved  to  defend  it."" 


■A' 


:m 


.Vi 


T! 

i 

1  1 

1 

I'l 

1 

|:   l\ 


IS  -    i 


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II 

iji^ 

9 

^1 

Pi 

li 

^^s  if' 

THIRD  EXPEDITION.— ENTER  MONTEREY. 


533 


The  rough  and  travel-worn  appearance  of  our  men  was  in  strong  con- 
trast with  tlie  fresh  looks  of  the  uniformed  officers  and  men  in  their  clean 
sailor  dress.  But  our  men  were  in  tine  condition  and  looked  serviceable  as 
well  as  service-worn.  The  town  now  presented  a  different  face  from  that 
which  it  wore  when  I  visited  it  in  January  under  a  Mexican  passport  to  ask 
permission  to  recruit  \\\\  party  on  the  San  Joaquin.  Three  nations  now  were 
represented  in  those  quiet  streets,  and  our  men  made  a  strong  impression  as 
thcv  rode  through  the  crowd  on  the  way  to  their  encampment. 

Lieutenant  Minor,  of  the  frigate  Savannah.,  was  on  shore  when  we  en- 
tered Monterey.  In  giving  his  testimony  before  the  Committee  of  Military 
Affairs  of  the  Senate  when  the  California  war  claims  were  being  examined, 
ho  took  occasion  to  say  "  that  the  appearance  of  this  body  of  men  and  the  well- 
known  character  of  its  commander  not  only  made  a  strong  impression  upon 
the  British  admiral  and  officers,  but  an  equally  impressive  and  more  happ}' 
one  upon  those  of  the  American  Navy  then  in  Monterc}-."  For  himself,  he 
said,  "  that,  after  he  had  seen  Captain  Fremont's  command,  all  his  doubts 
resjarding  the  conquest  of  California  were  removed." 

The  following  extract  is  from  "  FoLR  Years  in  thk  Pacific  in  Iler 
Majesty's  ship  Colliuo-vood.,  from  1H44  to  i84<S,  by  I^ieutenant  the  Hon. 
Fred.  Walpole,  R.X.'' 

"  During  our  stay  in  Monterc}',"  says  Lieutenant  Walpole,  "  Captain 
Fremont  and  his  part}-  arrived.  They  naturall}'  excited  curiosity.  Here 
were  true  trappers,  the  class  that  produced  the  heroes  of  Fenimore  Cooper's 
best  works.  Tiie  men  had  passed  years  in  the  wilds,  living  upon  their 
own  resources t  they  were  a  curious  set.  A  \ast  cloud  of  dust  appeared 
lirst,  and  thence  in  long  tile  emerged  this  wildest  wild  party.  Fremont 
rode  aiiead,  a  spare,  active-looking  man."  .  .  .  "He  was  dressed  in  a 
blouse  and  leggings,  and  wore  a  felt  hat.  After  him  came  five  Delaware  In- 
dians, who  were  his  bod\-guard,  and  ha\e  been  with  him  through  all  his  wan- 
derings; they  had  charge  of  two  baggage-horses.  The  rest,  many  of  them 
blacker  than  the  Indians,  rode  two  and  two,  the  rifle  held  by  one  hand 
aeross  the  pommel  of  the  saddle.  His  original  men  are  principally  back- 
'Aoodsinen,  from  the  vState  of  Tennessee  and  the  banks  of  the  upper  waters 
'  tile  Missouri.  He  has  one  or  two  with  him  who  enjov  a  high  reputa- 
m  in  the  prairies.     Kit  Carson  is  as  well   known  there  as  the  duke  is  in 


Eiir( 


ipe.     The  dress  of  these  men  was  principally  a  long  loose  coat  of  deer- 


skin, tied  with  thongs  in  fro  t;  trowscrs  of  the  same,  of  their  own  manu- 

jtaeturc.     They  are  allowed  no  liquor,  tea  and  sugar  only;   this,  no  doubt, 

MS  much  to  do  with  their  good    conduct;  and  the  discipline,  too,  is  ver)' 

•'net.     They  were  marched  up  to  an  open  space  on  the  hills  near  the  town, 

Imdcr  some  long  firs,  and  there  took  up  their  quarters,  in  messes  of  six  or 

^on.  in  the  open  air.     The  Indians  lay  beside  their  leader.     In  justice  to 


.   lir; 


R.  1     I' 


r  '  I     1  .  ,i 


^^. 


r  m\ 


;  (■ 


L.^ii  i 


tii!'  - 

'if!  :|| 

■lii 


I 


Mmk 


V'  'If! 


3      . 


53^ 


-UKMOIKS  OF  MY  LIFK—JOirX  CHARLES  IREMOMT. 


the  Americans  I  must  say,  they  seemed  to  treat  the  natives  well,  and  their 
authority  extended  every  protection  to  them.  The  butts  of  the  trapiurs" 
ritles  resemble  a  Turkish  musket,  therefore  tit  light  to  the  shoulder;  tiitv  aiu 
very  lony-  and  very  heavy,  carry  ball  about  thirty-eitjht  to  the  pound." 

I  went  into  camp  beyond  the  town,  near  the  sea,  on  a  H.it  amon<;-  tiis  and 
pines  towards  tlie  top  of  the  ridj^e  frontinjij  the  ba\\  This  was  a  delightful 
spot.  Before  us,  to  the  right,  was  the  town  of  Monterey  with  its  red-tiial 
roofs  and  large  gardens  enclosed  h\  high  adobe  walls,  capped  with  red  tiles: 
to  the  left  the  view  was  over  the  ships  in  the  ba}-  and  on  over  the  ocean, 
where  the  July  sun  made  the  sea-breeze  and  the  shade  of  the  pine  trees  grateful. 

The  camp  was  frequently  visited  by  the  officers  and  men  of  both  the  ((</• 
1/ It i^ivood i\n(\  the  American  squadron,  to  whom  our  men  and  their  rough  camp 
life  were  objects  of  curiosity.  All,  especially  the  English  officers,  were  in- 
terested in  the  shoi)ting  of  the  Delawares  and  the  men  of  the  exploring  partv. 
Consequently  tlicre  was  much  shooting  at  marks  put  up  against  pine  trees. 

Inuiiediately  after  my  arrival  I  went  on  board  the  frigate  .S'(7TY?////r//' and 
waited  upon  Commodore  Sloat.  I  was  accompanied  by  Lieutenant  Cjilles- 
]iie.  Commodore  Sloat  was  glad  to  see  me.  He  seemed  excited  over  the 
gra\ity  of  the  situation  in  which  he  was  the  chief  figure;  and  now,  wiiolh 
responsible  for  its  consequences.  After  a  few  words  to  introduce  the  subjeet 
he  informed  me  that  he  had  applied  to  Lieutenant  Gillespie,  whom  he  knew 
to  be  an  agent  of  the  (jovcrnment.  for  his  authority.  But  he  had  declined  to 
give  it.  He  then  asked  to  know  under  what  instructions  I  had  acted  in  tak- 
ing up  arms  against  the  Mexican  authorities.  "  I  do  not  know  by  what  au- 
thority you  are  acting.  I  can  do  nothing.  Mr.  Gillespie  has  told  me  noth- 
ing; he  came  to  Mazatlan,  and  I  sent  him  to  Monterey,  but  I  know  nothinj:. 
I  want  to  know  by  what  authority  you  are  acting." 

I  informed  him  that  I  had  acted  solely  on  my  own  responsibility,  mv 
without  any  expressed  authority  from  the  (iovernment  to  justify  hostiiitic\ 

He  appeared  much  disturbed  by  this  information,  and  gave  me  distinetly 
to  understand,  that  in  raising  the  tlag  at  Monterey  he  had  acted  upon  tho 
faith  of  our  operations  in  the  north. 

L'oinmodore  Sloat  was  so  discouratxed  that  the  inter\iew  terniinatci! 
abrupth  and  was  without  sequence.  He  did  not  ask  me  for  another  inter- 
view. He  had  expected  to  tind  that  1  had  been  acting  under  such  z^rillr,! 
authe)rity  as  would  support  his  action  in  raising  the  flag.  Disappointed  :n 
this  expectation  his  mind  closed  against  anything  short  of  the  written  paper: 
the  full  information  that  I  might  have  given  should,  in  my  judgment,  have 
been  sullicient  to  satisfy  him  that  the  taking  possession  of  California,  as  hiul 
been  done,  would  exactiv  meet  the  wishes  of  the  Government.  I  should  have 
been  glad  to  do  so.  But  for  this  he  made  no  occasion,  and,  as  a  iiniih 
yoimger  otiicer,  it  did  not  become  me  to  in-ge  u]ion  one  of  his  rank  and 


MONT. 

;s  well,  and  ihcir 
of  the  trappers" 
loukler;  they  are 
the  pound." 
;it  anionii'  tirs  and 
,  was  a  dcliiiluful 
with  its  rcd-tik'd 
led  with  red  tiks; 
over  the  ocean. 
line  trees  grateful. 
Ml  of  both  the  Vol 
I  their  rough  eanip 
otfiecrs,  were  in- 
le  exploring  party, 
gainst  pine  trees. 
ate  Savannah  and 
Lieutenant  Ciillcs- 
1  excited  over  tin.' 
and  now,  wholly 
:roduee  the  suhjcct 
)ie,  whom  he  know 
he  had  declined  to 
had  acted  in  tak- 
know  by  what  au- 
las told  nic  nolh- 
Lit  I  know  nothinj:. 


esponsibility,  am' 
justify  hostilities 
gave  me  distinctly 
id  acted  upon  the 

erview  tcrminatal 
for  another  inter- 
mder  such  t.'/v/A/v 
Disappointed  ;n 
the  written  paper: 
11 V  judgment.  li:ivo 
f  California,  as  h;ul 
ent.  1  should  havo 
n,  and,  as  a  niiuh 
le  of  his  rank  ami 


;) 


01 

2 


u. 

o 

H 
g 

O 

a. 


!ii  ;jt 


^  i::  :^! 


' 


tl 


„'"f'. 


h 

L'i 

W 

w 

w 

ex 

tni 
nil 
fl.), 
as 


n-h 
iastl 


rUIRD  EXPRDITJOX— COMMODORE  SLOAT  DISCOUKAGED. 


535 


present  command,  to  chanjfe  his  course  of  action;  especially  as  I  felt  there 
was  an  atmosphere  of  resistance  that  I  could  not  penetrate. 

Naturally  I  was  surprised  by  the  result  of  the  interview.  Aware  of 
what  would  be  the  general  nature  of  the  instructions  to  our  officers  on  the 
I'acirtc  coast,  I  could  not  have  supposed  that  the  officer  commanding  the 
squadron  was  relying  upon  me  to  justify  his  actions.  And  the  situation  now 
had  something  in  it  so  grand  that  hesitation  was  incomprehensible. 

I  had  returned  into  the  California  valley  two  months  before  with  my 
mind  full  of  one  purpose.  I  was  so  inspired  with  watchful  excitement  that 
the  nights  were  almost  as  wakeful  as  the  day.  I  saw  the  lovely  country 
which  had  charmed  my  senses  with  admiration  for  its  beauty  dangerously 
near  to  becoming  the  appanage  of  a  foreign  power.  I  knew  that  the  men  who 
understood  the  future  of  our  country,  and  who  at  this  time  ruled  its  destinies 
iind  were  the  government,  regarded  the  California  coast  as  the  boundary 
fixed  by  nature  to  round  off  our  national  domain.  From  Mexico  it  was 
naturally  separated,  and  events  were  pointing  to  its  sure  and  near  political 
separation  from  that  power. 

I  had  left  Washington  with  full  knowledge  of  their  wishes,  and  also  of 
their  purposes  so  far  as  these  could  be  settled  in  the  existing  circumstances ; 
and  I  was  relied  upon  to  do  what  should  be  in  my  power  in  the  event 
of  opportunity  to  further  their  designs.  And  now  that  the  opportunity  came 
I  had  entered  among  the  surrounding  circumstances  with  great  joy  and  a 
resolution  to  give  to  my  own  country  tiie  benefit  of  every  chance  as  these 
circumstances  changed.  And,  as  I  have  just  said,  with  great  joy,  for  to 
what  their  sagacity  of  statesmen  had  brought  them,  I  brought  the  enthusiasm 
which  the  wonderful  value  and  beauty  of  California  had  created  in  me. 

Now  two  months  had  wrought  the  change,  and  my  work,  too,  was  done. 
With  the  sight  of  our  flag  floating  over  the  town  when  I  entered  it  all  my 
excitement  subsided,  and  care  and  responsibility  fell  together  from  me. 

Returning  to  the  shore  from  my  visit  to  the  Savauiiah,  I  walked  out 
towards  the  Point  of  Pines,  which  juts  into  the  sea.  No  matter  how 
untoward  this  interview  had  been  I  felt  that  the  die  was  cast,  and  as  trifles 
tloat  into  a  mind  at  ease  I  pleased  myself  with  thinking  it  a  good  -Augury  that 
as  Savannah  was  my  birthplace,  the  birth  of  this  new  child  ot  our  country 
should  have  been  presided  over  bv  this  Sax'aiiiKiIi  of  the  seas. 

Sitting  here  by  the  sea  and  resting  and  gathering  about  me  these  dreams 
which  had  become  realities,  I  thought  over  the  long  way  from  Washington 
;o  this  spot  and  what  little  repose  of  body  or  mind  I  had  found,  less  of  the 
last.     But  now  I  was  having  an  ideal  rest. 

Looking  out  over  the  bay,  the  dark  hulls  of  the  war-vessels  and  the 
slumbering  cannon  still  looked  ominous  and  threatening.  But  the  Cross  <}f 
^t.  George  hung  idly  down  from  the  peak  of  the  great  ship,  the  breeze 


i-r: 


':  : 


I   !   I 


■  IMH 

il  'i 

536 


MF.MOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMOA'T. 


VI 


m 


occasionally  spreading  out  against  the  sky  the  small  red  patch  which  repre- 
sented centuries  of  glory.  There  lay  the  pieces  on  the  great  chess-board 
before  me  with  which  the  game  for  an  empire  had  been  played.  At  its  close 
we  had,  to  be  sure,  four  pieces  to  one,  but  that  one  was  a  Queen.  I  was  but 
a  pawn,  and  like  a  pawn  I  had  been  pushed  forward  to  the  front  at  the  open- 
ing of  the  game. 

The  actual  situation  is  best  explained  by  a  knowledge  of  Commodore 
Sloat's  condition  of  mind  when  he  left  Mazatlan  on  the  8th  of  June  for  Mon- 
terey. On  the  6th  he  had  written  to  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy  that  he  had 
resolved  that  he  would  not  take  possession  of  any  part  of  California  or 
undertake  any  hostile  measure  against  Mexico  until  cither  Mexico  or  the 
United  States  had  declared  war;  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  our  consul, 
Mr.  Parrott,  by  an  express,  had  informed  him  that  the  battles  of  Palo  Alto 
and  Rcsaca  de  la  Palma  had  been  fought.  This  resolution  he  had  com- 
municated to  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy  by  his  letter  of  June  6th,  in  which 
he  expresses  his  deep  regret  that  the  orders  given  him  should  ha\e  been  of 
such  a  nature  as  to  compel  him  to  this  humiliating  decision  while  it  appeared 
to  the  world  that  we  were  actualh'  at  war  on  the  other  coast. 

The  reply  of  the  Secretary  taking  a  widely  different  view  of  the  situation 
did  not  reach  him  tmtil  he  had  returned  to  the  East. 

It  was  in  this  frame  of  mind  that  Commodore  Sloat  reached  Monterey 
on  the  2d  of  July. 

To  make  the  situation  distinct  I  give  here  the  two  letters: 

No.   51. 

Flag-Ship  Savannah,  June  6,  1846. 

Sir:  Since  my  No.  50,  of  the  31st  May,  I  have,  upon  more  mature  reflection,  como  to 
the  conclusion  that  your  instructions  of  the  24th  June  last,  and  every  subsequent  order,  will  not 
justify  my  taking  possession  of  any  part  of  California,  or  any  hostile  measure  against  Mexico 
(notwithstanding  their  attack  upon  our  troops),  as  neither  party  have  ift-c/arcc/  loar.  I  sliall, 
therefore,  in  conformity  with  those  instructions,  be  careful  to  avoid  any  act  of  aggression  until 
I  [amj  certain  one  or  the  other  party  have  done  so.  or  until  I  find  that  our  squadron  in  the 
Gulf  have  commenced  i>//'r/is/:r  operations,  presuming  that,  as  they  are  in  daily  comniunication 
with  the  Department,  their  proceedings  are  authorized. 

The  want  of  communication  with,  and  information  from,  tlie  Department  and  our  consul, 
render  my  situation  anything  but  pleasant;  indeed  it  is  humiliating  and  mortifying  in  the 
extreme,  as  by  my  orders  I  cannot  act,  wl-.ile  it  appears  to  the  world  that  we  are  actually  at  \v;ir 
on  tlie  other  coast. 

Three  of  the  sloops  are  on  the  coast  of  California,  where  I  shall  proceed,  leavinij  tlii' 
U'antii  here  to  bring  intelligence.     The  S/iark  is  at  Columbia  River. 

Most  respectfully,  I  am  your  obedient  servant, 

J.  D.  Sloat,  Commodore. 

To  the  Honorahlc  Secretary  of  the  Xavy,   Washington. 

Naw  Dk.I'ARTMENT,  January  11,1848. 
The  foregoing  is  a  trauslation  of  a  letter  received  at  this  Department  in  cipher. 

J.  Y.  Ma>on. 


XT. 

which  repre- 
,t  chess-board 
At  its  close 
:n.  I  was  but 
nt  at  the  open- 

if  Commodore 
June  for  Mon- 
.vy  that  he  had 
:   Cahfornia  or 
Mexico  or  the 
hat  our  consul, 
i;s  of  Palo  Alto 
n  he  had  com- 
ic 6th,  in  which 
kl  have  been  of 
bile  it  appeared 

t. 
of  the  situation 

iched  Monterey 
s: 


M,  June  6,  1846. 

reneclion,  come  to 
(ucnt  order,  will  not 
^sure  against  Mexico 
■lan-d  war.     1  sliull 

of  aggression  unlil 
Inir  squadron  in  the 
liaily  comnninicalion 

Lent  and  our  consul. 
Id  mortifying  in  the 
|e  are  actually  at  war 


Lroceed.   leavini; 


the 


l)AT,  Coillllli 


uhnc- 


January  n,  1848. 
cipht-y. 

J.  Y.  MALI'S. 


THIRD  EXPEDITION.— BANCROFT  TO  SLOAT. 


537 


(Duplicate.) 

U.  S.  Navy  Department, 

Washing r<)\,  August  13,  1846. 

Ciimmddore:  The  Department  has  received  your  letter  No.  51,  of  June  6th,  from  which  it 
appears  that  while  you  were  aware  of  the  existence  of  "actual  war"  between  the  United  States 
anri  Mexico,  you  remained  in  a  state  of  inactivity  and  did  not  carry  out  the  instructions  of 
June  24,  1845,  framed  to  be  executed  even  in  the  event  of  the  mere  declaration  uf  war,  much 
more  in  the  event  of  actual  hostilities.  Those  instructions  you  were  ordered  to  carry  out 
■'at  nnce." 

In  my  letter  of  August  5,  1845,  the  receipt  of  which  you  acknowledged  on  the  28th  Jan- 
uary-, 1S46,  referring  to  them,  I  said,  "  In  the  event  of  war,  you  will  obey  the  instructions  recently 
.iikircssed  to  you  via  Panama." 

In  my  Ictutr  of  October  17,  1S45,  of  which  you  acknowledge  the  receipt  on  the  17th  of 
March.  1846,  relerring  to  these  instructions  once  more,  I  said  further,  "  In  the  event  of  actual 
hostilities  between  the  Mexican  Government  and  our  own,  you  will  so  dispose  of  your  whole 
force  as  to  carry  out  most  ctlcctually  the  objects  specified  in  the  instructions  forwarded  to  you 
from  the  Department  in  view  of  such  a  contingency."  And  surely  there  is  no  ambiguity  in 
this  language. 

And  in  my  letter  of  23d  February  last,  sent  through  Mexico,  I  remarked,  "  This  letter  is 
sent  to  you  overland,  enclosed  as  you  suggest,  to  Messrs.  Mott,  Talbot  &  Co.,  Mazatlan,and  you 
will  readily  understand  the  reserve  with  which  it  is  written." 

The  Department  on  August  5,  1845,  had  also  told  you  that  "your  force  should  not  be  weak- 
ened, while  hostilities  are  threatened  by  Mexico."  Your  course  was  particularly  approved  in  de- 
taining the  frigate  Constitution.  The  Deiiartment  will  hope  that  a  more  urgent  necessity  than 
as  yet  appears  existed  for  the  otherwise  premature  return  of  that  vessel. 

The  Department  doei  hb*  ehMgo  ymi  with  dioobodionoo  of  ordoro.  U*  willingly  believes  in 
the  purity  of  your  intentions.  But  your  anxiety  not  to  do  wrong  has  led  you  into  a  most  unfor- 
tunate and  unwarranted  inactivity.  Very  respectfully  yours, 

(Signed)  George  BANCRorr. 

Commodore  John  D.  Sloat,  Commanding  U.  S.  Xaital  Forces 
in  the  Pacijic   Ocean. 

When  Commodore  Sloat  on  the  2d  of  Jul}'  entered  the  port  of  Montere}' 
he  sent  an  officer  on  shore  with  a  tender  of  the  usual  civilities,  by  an  offer 
to  salute  the  Mexican  flatj;;  but  the  offer  was  declined  on  the  pretext  that 
there  was  no  powder  with  which  to  return  it. 

'•  It  was  a  matter  of  great  surprise  on  the  part  of  many  othcers  of  the 
squadron  that  the  Commodore  should  have  tendered  these  ci\ilities,  knowing 
as  we  all  did  that  the  Mexican  Government  had  already  commenced  offen- 
sive operations  against  our  army  on  the  Rio  Grande,  and  that  the  squad- 
ron of  the  United  States  was  blockading  the  coast  of  Mexico  on  the  Gulf."f 

Rumors  of  hostilities  which  had  reached  us  many  da\s  previously 
throiiirli  Indian  sources  were  confirmed  on  the  arrival  of  Commodore  Sloat. 
hi  sparsely  settled  and  grazing  countries,  especially  where  there  are  Indians, 
news  travels  with  great  rapiditv  from  village  to  village  and  from  rancho  to 
laneho.  In  the  country  between  Monterc}'  and  the  Rit)  Cirande  iiorscs  are 
a'niiulant  and  the  Indians  and  ranchmen  spend  a  good  part  of  their  lives  in 
the  :,addle.     The  friendly  custom  was  to  change  horses  at  every  rancho,  so 

•  This,  is  the  original  letter  received  by  Commodore  Sloat. 
f  Sworn  testimony  of  Midshipman  Wilson. 


1     ; '  ,i  f'i 


I  % 


I,  ■    ■\ 


W:  i'     HI 


li!:- 


53« 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CIIARLRS  FRilMONT. 


M 


mi 


\ 


that  news  reall}-  went  b}'  eourier  and  posting;  and  now  with  extraordinary 
swiftness  in  this  situation,  when  events  on  tiie  Rio  Grande  were  anxiously 
watched  by  all  the  Mexican  people. 

Tliat  battles  had  taken  place  all  knew.  But  as  will  be  seen  bv  this  in- 
terview  Commodore  Sloat  did  not  intend  to  move  farther  and  had  "ono 
back  to  the  position  taken  in  his  letter  to  the  Secretary  of  the  6th  of  func. 

In  his  letter  of  the  6th  to  Commander  Montgomery  he  directs  that  oHJccr 
to  hoist  the  flag  if  he  has  sufficient  force,  "  or  if  Fremont  will  join  vou," 
and  expresses  his  great  anxiety  tliat  I  should  join  him. 

In  the  following  letter  to  me  of  JuW  the  9th,  informing  me  of  his  opera- 
tions and  of  his  force  in  the  harbor  of  Monterey,  he  tells  me  that  lie  is  ex- 
tremely anxious  to  see  me  at  my  earliest  convenience  and  that  it  is  of  the 
utmost  importance  that  I  be  present  in  the  e\ent  that  (ieneral  Castro  should 
consent  to  a  capitulation.  And  in  the  event  of  my  being  delayed  for  a  dav 
or  two,  he  requests  me  to  send  in  a  mounted  force  of  100  men  and  to  hrin<,r 
in  any  Mexican  government  horses  that  1  may  find  on  the  road. 

Fi.AO-Sini'  Savannah.  Bav  of  Montf.rf.v,  July  12,  i8.;6. 
Sir;  1  luive  one  liundrcd  marines  and  two  hundred  men  on  shore,  well  armed,  and  also  two 
l8-pounder  carronades,  mounted  tor  field-pieces,  and  can  land  the  remainder  of  my  force  in  a 
few  minutes,  if  necessary.  By  the  best  information  I  can  obtain,  Fremont  was  at  the  Pueblo 
(of  St.  Joseph)  the  day  before  yesterday,  and  probably  at  St.  Johns  yesterday.  I  sent  a  let- 
ter to  him  two  days  since,  by  express,  and  yesterday  a  message  by  an  American  who  was  on 
his  way  to  Yerba  Buena,  who  promised  to  see  liim  ;  he  has  also  a  message  for  you  ;  tlien- 
fore  I  am  in  momentary  e.xpectation  of  hearing  from  him.  Castro  buried  two  field-pieces,  with 
their  shot,  at  St.  Johns,  and  is  flying  before  Fn'mont. 

I  have  information  from  the  Pueblo  (of  St.  Joseph)  that  yesterday  forty  foreigners  in  that 
town  wanted  to  hoist  our  flag,  but  had  no  bunting.  1  shall  send  them  some  the  first  opportu- 
nity, and  shall  direct  them  to  organize  themselves  int',>  a  company  of  cavalry,  clioose  their  own 
officers,  for  the  protection  of  their  own  property  against  marauders  and  the  Indians,  and  then 
report  to  me.  When  organized  and  reported  they  will  be  mustered  into  service  and  receive  in- 
structions from  me 

Very  respectfully,  your  obedient  servant, 

John  D.  Sloat, 

Com  III  a  II  (ill  -ill-  C  7i  ief.  etc. 
Commandant  J.  11.  AfoiU^oiiu-iy,  U.  S.  Ship  J'orlsmoiit/i, 
/liiy  iif  San  Francisco. 


VBi'^i 


% 


Before  Commodore  Sloat  knew  that  I  was  not  acting  under  writtin 
orders  he  was,  as  will  be  seen  by  his  letters,  "  extremely  anxious  "^  that  I 
should  co-operate  witli  him.  Now  his  activity  seemed  paralyzed,  and  wh.it 
he  said  at  our  interview  seemed  true,  "that  he  could  do  nothing."  And  In 
did  nothing. 

The  story  of  the  night  preceding  the  raising  of  the  flag  is  best  told  in  i!  ' 
words  of  .Ex-Go\ernor  Rodman  Price  of  New  Jersey,  who  was  at  that  tin 
an  officer  in  the  squadion  under  Commodore  Sloat,  and  who  had  a  docid;:! 


ira 


•en  by  Uiis  in- 
imd   hiid   u'diK' 
;  6th  of  June. 
L'cts  that  othccr 
will  join  you." 

lie  of  his  opera- 
L-  that  he  is  ex- 
that  it  is  of  the 
il  Castro  should 
;layed  for  a  clay 
,cn  and  to  briui: 
oad. 

.Y,  July  12.  18+6. 
1  armed,  and  also  two 
der  of  my  force  in  a 
It  was  at  the  Puubln 
.erday.  I  sent  a  Ict- 
merican  who  was  on 
sage  for  you  ;  ilierc- 
two  field-pieces,  wiili 


|-ty  forcipiners  in  tluit 
lie  the  first  opporlu- 
choose  their  own 
he  Indians,  and  tlicn 
rvice  and  receive  in- 


<dn-iii-ChieJ,  etc. 


t  % 


■  !,    I 


!    |i< 


GOV.  RODMAN    .M.   1-RICE,  oF    NEW  ,)ERSE'i 


tlfeM 


is  best  told  in  i!'a 
was  at  thaltir 
ho  had  a  deciJ;:i 


r:':]i 


i:     ! 


Vi 


THIRD  EXPEDITION— GOV.  PRICE'S  STATEMENT. 


539 


p.irt   in  that   event.      Tliis   statement   was  written   for   me  by  Governor 

i'rite: 

In  July,  1845,  tlif  United  States  sloop  of  war  Cyanc,  Captain  William  Mcn'ine,  sailed  from 
Norfolk  under  orders  to  join  the  I'ac  ifu-  Sipiadron.  (Mr.  Price  was  purser  of  tue  Cyan,.)  Just 
licfnre  lie  left  he  saw  President  Polk,  who,  in  the  then  disturbed  r  ja'.ions  between  the  United 
Stales  and  Mexico,  expressed  jjreat  anxiety  in  rejjard  to  the  possible  contingency  uf  h(jstilities 
Dccurrinj;  between  the  two  countries,  and  said,  "  that  should  it  happen,  California  should  be 
seized  by  the  naval  forces  in  the  Pacific  and  held  as  indemnitication  for  the  expenses  of  carry- 
ing; on  such  a  war,"  and  Mr.  Price  was  fully  impressed  with  the  policy  of  the  President.* 

The  Cymir  joined  the  Pacilic  squadron  in  January,  184(1,  finding  Commodore  Sloat  then 
coniiiiandini,'  the  stpiadron  in  the  flag-ship  frigate  Savaiina/i,  at  .Mazatlan,  on  the  west  coast  of 
Mexico,  where  a  large  naval  force  was  concentrated  of  .American  and  Knglish  ships — Sir  George 
Seymour,  the  English  admiral,  having  his  Hag  on  the  CoUin^ti.'ood,  a  hundred-gun  ship. 

At  the  'lie  of  the  Cyath's  arrival,  much  excitement  existed  in  both  S(piadrons  and  on  shore 
in  regard  to  the  anticipated  rupture  between  the  United  Stales  and  Mexico.  It  was  understood 
and  believed  that  the  Knglish  Governincn-.  •ncant  to  seize  or  throw  protection  over  California 
in  case  of  war,  as  indemnity  for  the  debt  owing  by  Mexico  to  F^ngland.  Therefore  there  was 
fjreat  anxiety  for  news,  and  much  importance  i)laced  as  to  which  squadron  would  first  receive 
intelligence  of  war,  as  the  fate  of  California  depended  upon  it. 

Soon  after  the  Cyauc's  axx'waX,  Lieutenant  Archibald  Gillespie,  United  States  Marine  Corps, 
came  to  Mazatlan,  having  crossed  Mexico  with  despatches  to  Commodore  Sloat  and  Captain 
Fn'mont,  The  latter  was  then  supposed  to  be  in  California  or  (Oregon,  and  Captain  Mervine 
was  ordered  to  land  him  (Gillespie)  at  some  p<)rt  where  he  could  best  communicate  with  Fre- 
mont, and  about  February  isl  the  L'yivir  sailed  for  the  Sandwich  Islands  to  deceive  the  English 
admiral  as  to  her  ultimate  destination,  and  the  offer  to  carry  the  English  mail  to  the  islands  was 
m;"'.^  .'.'id  a  ■'-f'pti  i.  The  Cyaiw  sailed  lii'.-'-t  lor  Honolulu,  and  thence  to  Monterey,  Cal.,  arriv- 
ing'about  Marcli  1st,  when  w:  learned  '  hrough  our  consul,  Thomas  O.  Larkin,  that  Fremont  had 
heen  at  Sar.  Juan  (some  lorty  miles  from  Monterey)  a  short  time  previous  to  our  arrival,  and  had 
sent  a  messenger  to  >'r,  Larkin  requesting  supplies  for  his  party,  and  that  the  Mexican  author- 
ities had  fiirl)idden  any  supplies  being  sent  to  him,  and  that  General  Castro,  the  Military  (iov- 
ernor  of  California,  had  ordered  Fremont  to  le:;  e  Mexican  territory.  As  no  attention  was  paid 
10  this,  Castro  sent  a  ven,'  insolent  note  threatening  to  drive  him  out  by  military  force.  This 
threat  Freinont  treated  with  silent  contempt,  but  he  could  get  no  supplies,  which  his  command 
greatly  needed. 

General  Castro  then  marched  a  strong  military  force  against  him.  Fremont  fortified  him- 
self and  waited  to  receive  him  Castro's  force  lay  in  sight  some  time  without  attacking,  but 
made  every  effort  to  cut  oil  his  supply  of  water,  and  by  siege  compel  him  to  suirender. 

Fremont  was  starved  out  and  left  his  position,  and  olfered  battle,  which  Castro  declined, 
and  Fremont  went  north. 

'iiUespie  was  left  at  Monterey,  and  pursued  and  overtook  Fremont,  who  returned  with  him 
to  :  .,ui  r's  Fort.  The  Cyaiic  returned  to  Mazatlan  in  April,  and  reported  these  facts  to  the 
commodore.  The  excitement  had  greatly  intensilied  hy  the  rumor  that  General  Santa  .\nna 
liad  crossed  the  Rio  (jrande  with  a  large  force,  and  that  General  Taylor  was  in  command  of  the 
.Amt-ric,        irces  in  Texas,  and  a  battle  anticipated. 

Soon  ilie  sloop  of  war  I'otlsmoutli.  Captain  Montgomery,  was  despatched  to  San  Francisco, 
Cal..  and  the  Lt-uant,  Captain  Pi>ge,  to  Monterey,  Cal.;  the  ll'am'ii.  Captain  Hull,  having  been 
previously  sent  there.  The  destination  of  these  vessels  was  not  made  known  to  the  Eii-jlisli 
admiral,  who  had  sent  the  English  frigate  Juno  to  sea,  without  the  usual  formality  of  informing 
Commodore  Sloat  of  hi  iestination.  But  an  English  priest.  Father  McNamara,  who  had  come 
across  Mexico,  had  mysteriously  taken  passage  in  her.  About  June  ist  the  t/ij;/;  was  again 
ordered  to  Monterey,  Cal. — the  belief  then  existing,  from  rumors,  that  a  fight  had  occurred  be- 

*Mr.  Price  had  recently  been  a  guest  at  the  White  House,  on  a  visit  there  to  Knox  Walker,  secretary 
dnd  nephew  of  the  Presid'-nt. 


i.i! 


\l  1 


r/i 


1,  '. 

i    ': 


'  t          ■   ■ ,             ) 

'■! 

■              i! 

1 

t 

\ 

1 

!:    ! 

1. 

11 

■  ^ 

m  (tW^  I 

11 

M'Mm  I 

1  s 

i  1 

'■'■i  f 


54" 


MEMOIRS  OF   MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


tween  tlic  Aineriran  and  Mexican  forces,  and  tliis  belief  was  largely  entertained  by  our  consul, 
Mr,  Parrolt,  who,  about  that  time,  set  out  for  the  City  of  Mexico — Commodore  Sloat  and  the 
English  admiral  having  all.  this  time  remained  at  Mazatlan. 

After  the  Cyane  sailed,  the  commodo'e  received  a  despatch  from  (-aadalajara,  from  Mr 
Parrolt,  informing  him  of  the  battles  of  Palo  Alto  and  Kesaca  de  la  Palina,  which  occurred 
in  May. 

The  Cyanr  arrived  .:t  Monterey  the  last  of  June,  and  found  the  Lnhiiit  and  W'arrcu  :it 
anchor,  and  heard  that  the  I'ortsmoulli  was  at  (Verba  Huena)  San  Francisco,  and  what  is  curious, 
rumors  were  afloat  that  ;•  battle  had  occurred  on  the  Rio  Grande,  and  the  result  detailed  witli 
some  minuteness,  which  had  come  through  Indian  sources,  which  afterwarfis  proved  to  be  vcr\- 
accurate. 

It  was  also  learned  that  the  Ii^nglish  frigate  Juno  was  at  Santa  Barbara,  and  that  Father 
McNamara  was  negotiating  with  the  Civil  Govertior  and  authorities  for  a  grant  of  land  in  C:il- 
ifcrniii,  intended  for  European  colonization,  which  was  a  part  of  the  English  design  to  acquire 
Ci'.iifornia,  and  so  understood  at  the  time. 

Some  days  after  our  arrival,  about  July  ist.  Commodore  Sloat  arrived,  and  it  was  contidenily 
believed  by  the  officers  of  the  squadron  that  he  would  land  at  once,  hoist  oui  flag,  and  take  pos- 
session of  California,  and  all  felt  that  the   Fourth  day  of  July  was  an  appropriate  day  to  do  it. 

The  positive  news  of  the  battles  through  Mr  Parrott.  and  the  feeling  to  chastise  (Jcncral 
Castro  for  his  insult  to  our  flag,  and  the  wanton  outrage  upon  Fremont,  fully  justified  and 
demandefl  such  a  course:  but  to  the  disafjpointment  and  chagrin  of  all.  the  commodore  sent  his 
flag-lieutenant.  Joseph  Adams,  ashore,  and,  as  if  a  friendly  port,  desired  to  know  when  salutes 
would  be  exchanged. 

In  the  meantime  a  very  strong  feeling  had  arisen  with  the  native  Californians  against  us,  in- 
duced by  I'nglish  and  French  agents  and  the  anticipated  war  with  us.  The  friendly  influences 
which  had  been  cultivated  by  .American  residents,  and  our  consul,  Mr.  Larkin,  who  had  been 
many  years  in  California,  had  made  many  friends  among  '  Ue  Californians,  and  our  trading-sliips 
on  the  coast,  which  supplied  all  their  wants  and  had  taken  all  their  exports  (hides  and  tallcjwi 
and  dealt  honestly  with  the  people,  had  contributed  to  .American  influence  ;  but  all  this  had 
been  greatly  changed,  and  the  English  sentiment  had  arisen,  and  a  preference  expressed  for 
I'.ngland's  protection  :  a  majority  of  the  people  greatly  preferred  that  California  should  fall  to 
I'ngland  rather  than  to  the  United  States.  The  French  people,  also,  in  California  were  against 
us  and  in  favor  of  English  plans. 

The  French  consul,  after  we  occupied  Monterey,  was  detected  in  communicating  with  the 
Californians,  and  giving  them  information  as  to  our  military  movements.  So  flagrant  was  his 
conduct  that  Commodore  Stockton  confined  him  to  his  house  until  he  left  the  country. 

Several  davs  aft.T  Commodore  .Sloat's  arrival,  anrl  on  Sunday  afternoon,  July  5th,  a  sail  was 
reported  roniing  into  the  Hay  of  Monterey.  All  glasses  were  turned  upon  it,  and  it  was  watched 
with  great  interest.  It  proved  to  be  the  launch  of  the  sloop  of  war  Portsiiioiitli.  with  Past-Mid- 
shipman Napoleon  Harrison  and  sixteen  men,  sent  by  Captain  Montgomery — he  having  hoard 
of  the  Cyaui-'s  arrival  at  Monterey  (Captain  Mervine  being  his  s'-nior  otiicer).  The  presence  of 
the  commorlore  was  not  known  when  '  ne  hiiinch  loft.  Harrison  went  to  the  I'ag-ship  and  de- 
livered (li  s|ialches. 

Captain  Montgomery  had  been  requested  by  Fremont  to  send  him  supplies  and  munitions 
of  war.  aiul  Major  'iillespie  harl  come  from  Sutter's  fort  to  receive  them,  F'remont  stating'  that 
.\iniri(  ,111  settlers  in  the  Sacramento  and  San  Joaquin  valleys  were  much  alarmed  by  the  Cali- 
fornians' threatening  inovemenls,  and  had  asked  his  protection,  and  that  he  needed  the  sii|J|ilii> 
to  drfcnrl  his  own  parly  and  protect  the  lives  and  propertv  of  the  .Americans,  and  Montgonury 
wanted  to  know  whether  he  should  comply  with  Fremont's  request. 

Sloiii  immediately  replied,  instructing  Montgomery  ;/()/  to  in'rc  h'riinoiit  any  aui 'Ki.'hi\tcv,-r. 
but  to  obey  strictly  our  treaty  stipulations  with  Mexico.  He  also  ordered  his  answer  lobe 
handed  to  Lieutenant  Harrison,  directing  him  to  shove  oil,  and  return  to  his  ship  at  once,  It 
was  then  growing  dark,  and  a  high  westerly  wind  prevailing.  The  men  had  been  in  the  launch 
f'fty-six  hours.  The  order  seemed  so  harsh  to  send  Harrison  o(T  at  night-fall  in  su<;h  tenipcstu- 
ous  weather  to  the  executive  officer  of  the  Saiumnali  (Livingston),  that  he  appealed  to  the  com- 
modore to  allow  Harrison  to  remain  until  daylight  the  next  morning,  and  to  allow  his  men  tn 


INT. 

led  by  our  consul, 
^rc  Sloal  iind  ihc 

daUijiUii,  from  Mr. 
na.  which  o<:curri:d 

int  and  Warren  al 
and  what  is  curious, 
result  detailed  with 
;ls  proved  to  be  vcr)- 

ra,  and  that  Father 
irrant  of  land  in  Cal- 
sh  design  to  ac<iuire 

Lnd  it  was  contidonily 
,ui  flag,  and  take  pos- 
>priate  day  to  do  it. 
r  to  chastise  (icneral 
nt.  fully  justified  and 
,e  commodore  sent  his 
.o  know  when  salutes 

fornians  against  us,  iii- 
-hc  friendly  influences 
Larkin,  who  had  been 
„  and  our  trading-ships 
irtsdiitles  and  lalh>w. 
nee  ;  but  all  this  liiiri 
•fercnce  expressed  for 
ilifornia  should  fall  to 
California  were  against 

.nimunicating  with  the 

So  flagrant  was  his 

eft  the  country. 

oon.JidySt'i-i  «''''''•'■ 
n  it,  and  it  was  watched 

,,„„„//,,  with  Past-Mirt- 
„^.ry— he  having  ln;^ird 
icen.  The  presence  of 
the  fl:ag-ship  and  de- 


Isupplic's 


uid  minulions 


I,  Fremont  stating  Hi.'i 
|-h  alarmed  by  th.-  C^ili- 
il  he  needed  the  suppl'^- 
Iricans,  and  Montgonurv 

■hnont  .viv  „>.f'~^'l''^t'-''l 

llered   his  answer  to  be 

U,  his  ship  at  once,     t 

,,ad  been  in  the  launch 

Lt-fall  in  such  tcmpcsw- 

J  he  appealed  to  the  com- 

and  to  allow  his  men  to 


THIRD  KXPEDITION.-  SLOAT  YIELDS  TO  MR.  PRICE. 


541 


come  on  board  and  sleep,  and  be  refreshed — they  were  wet  and  their  limbs  had  been  cramped. 
This  request  was  granted. 

These  circumstances  and  facts  had  been  learned  by  Mr,  Price  immediately  from  Captain 
Mervine,  who  was  on  board  the  liag-shiiJ  when  the  despatches  were  received  from  Montgomery, 
and  Sloat  had  told  him  the  character  of  his  reply  and  instructions,  at  which  he  was  greatly  dis- 
appointed, and  thought  it  a  grave  mistake  of  the  commodore's. 

Mr.  Price  made  the  facts  known  to  the  ward-room  officers,  who  discussed  them,  and  all  felt 
that  it  was  a  fatal  error,  that  the  commodore  was  ncjt  carrying  out  the  policy  or  wishes  of  the 
Government — jeopardi.'ing  its  interests  and  sacrificing  its  honor. 

Mr.  Price  considered  die  moment  so  critical  that,  as  if  by  inspiration,  he  said,  that  if  it  were 
possible  to  get  a  boat,  it  then  being  cjuite  late  at  night  and  after  the  crew  had  turned  in,  he  felt 
he  would  be  only  doing  a  duty  to  go  and  see  the  commodore  and  urge  him  to  reconsider  his 
action.  Upon  reflection  lie  decided  to  ask  Cajitain  Mervine  for  a  boat,  and  stated  his  object  for 
desiring  it.  Mervine  said  there  was  no  msc  of  going  to  see  thj  commodf)re,  that  he  himself  had 
said  everything  against  his  order  to  Montgomery,  but  wished  him  to  give  all  tlie  aid  and  sup- 
IJJies  that  Fremont  recjuired,  but  added,  "you  shall  have  it  it  you  desire  it."  The  ref^uest  was 
repeated,  Mi,  Price  saying  that  he  would  like  to  present  to  the  commodore  tlie  views  oi  Presi- 
dent Polk,  as  given  to  him  a  few  days  before  the  Cyaiw  sailed  from  Norfolk. 

First-Lieutenant  Rowan,  e.xecutive  officer  of  the  Cyaue,  was  ordered  to  have  the  captain's 
gig  called  away  for  Mr,  Price  to  go  on  board  the  flag-ship,  Mr,  Price  was  received  on  board 
the  flag-ship  by  First-Lieutenant  Livingston,  who  said  the  commodore  had  turned  in,  his  cabin 
liglils  were  out,  and  it  was  doubtful  whether  he  would  rec:eive  him.  but  would  send  in  an  fjrderly 
and  see;  and  an  answer  was  returned  that  he  would.  The  cabin  was  lighted  and  the  commo- 
dore came  out  of  his  state-room  in  his  night-dress. 

Mr.  Price  apologized  for  disturbing  him,  and  stated  that  his  visit  was  induced  at  that  unu- 
sual hour  by  information  he  had  received  from  Captain  Mervine,  who  had  informed  him  of  the 
character  of  the  communication  from  Captain  Montgomery,  and  the  reph-  to  it — that  he  must 
pardon  the  intrusion  and  venture  of  coming  to  him,  under  the  circumstances,  to  urge  the  recon- 
sideration of  his  letteis  of  instructifm  to  Captain  Montgomery  denying  Fn'mont  the  supplies  he 
wanted  to  defend  himself  and  protecrt  American  citizens  and  their  property. 

Feeling  as  Mr.  Price  did,  that  upon  the  decision  of  the  commodore  rested  the  loss  or  gain  of 
Calif(jrnia  to  the  United  States,  he  urged  upon  him  every  view  and  reason  pc  ,sible  to  recall  the 
letter  and  show  the  evils  which  would  result  to  himself  as  well  as  to  hii  countn,-,  if  Fre- 
mont was  not  sustained  and  our  flag  immediately  raised  on  shore  and  a  military  occupation 
(k'(  lared. 

The  evidence  of  hostilities  existing  between  us  and  Mexico  was  dwelt  upon — his  delay  would 
(erlainly  give  California  to  Fngland.  The  F^nglish  [xilicy  and  intention  was  clear — the  luiglish 
frigate  ^//Wi.  was  at  Santa  iiarbara  ;  that  Admiral  Seymour  was  following  him  with  the  intention 
of  landing  and  occupying  California.  Under  the  circumstances,  tlure  was  only  one  course  to 
pursue  to  meet  the  expec:tations  of  his  country.  The  flrst  and  only  reply  Sloat  made  was,  that 
he  did  not  want  to  fall  into  the  same  mistake  that  Commodon-  Jones  made  two  years  before. 
riie  great  diflerence  of  circumstances  which  existed  al  that  time  and  the  present  were  pointed 
out.  and  th  .t  delay  would  undoubtedly  bring  about  a  serious  complicati.m  \,illi  :lie  luiglish,  if 
not  a  tight ;  that  he  could  not  witness  the  raising  of  the  Englisli  flag  o\er  California  witliout  re- 
monstrance, active  and  forcible.  .After  silent  reflection,  Sloal  yielded  to  the  entreaty  of  Mr. 
Price,  and  decided  to  recall  the  letter  to  Captain  Montgomery,  and  not  only  ordered  him  to  fur- 
nisli  all  the  sup[)lies  and  all  the  aid  to  Fremont  he  required,  but  also,  on  the  receipt  of  the  order, 
to  raise  the  flag  immediately  at  San  Francisco,  informing  him  the  flag  would  be  raised  by  him 
the  next  morning,  being  Ji!ly  7.  1846,  at  Monterey.  That  he  would  receive  therewith  a  copy  of 
the  proclamation  under  whicii  California  would  be  occupied  by  us.  The  prodaniation  was  writ- 
ten that  night  before  Mr,  Price  had  left  the  .'<ii~hiiinah  :  and  he  returned  to  his  ship  receiving 
the  congratulations  of  his  captain  and  mess-males  as  having  performed  a  signal  ser\  ice.  He 
hore  orders  to  Captain  Mervine,  the  senior  oflScer  of  the  fleet,  to  go  ashore  at  daylight  in  the 
morning  and  tiotifv  the  Mexican  military  and  civil  authorities  that  the  commodore  would  land  a 
force  at  ten  o'clock  that  day  to  take  possession  of  California  in  the  name  of  the  United  Slates 
('overnment. 


:i;i: 


h 


J 


W' 


!  1'^  '■■■  il ' '  '  i  I 
iff.  ■■  i:  '■■'  1  i  15; 


'IJ 


'III  I'll  iSJiii'  ii 


■•;<  'H, 


542 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


Captain  Mervine  performed  this  ser\'ice,  taking  with  him  Lieutenant  E^dward  Higgjns,  and 
Purser  Price  as  his  aides.  Arrangements  were  accordingly  made,  and  a  force  of  sailors  and  ma- 
rines numbering  about  two  hundred  and  fifty,  taken  from  the  dilferenl  vessels,  were  landed,  aiul 
the  flag,  in  charge  of  Lieutenant  Higgins,  was  raised  on  the  flag-stalf  of  the  Custom-Mouse,  and 
the  Proclamation  of  Occupation  was  read  by  Purser  Price,  in  Spanish  and  in  English,  before 
our  own  force  and  the  assembled  citizens  of  the  place,  from  the  porch  of  the  Custom-Mouse. 
Our  sailors  and  marines  then  occupied  the  Mexican  barracks,  which  the  troops  of  General  Cas- 
tro had  just  vacated,  and  every  military  precaution  was  taken  to  resist  attack. 

The  English  admiral  arrived  a  few  days  afterward,  and  the  first  thing  he  said  <in  n-ceivini,' 
the  commodore  was,  "  Sloat,  if  your  flag  was  not  Hying  on  shore  I  should  have  hoisted  niiju: 
there." 

Purser  Price  was  appointed  prefect  and  alcalde,  and  has  the  distinction  of  having  first 
administered  American  law  in  California,  under  the  "  Proclamation  of  Occupation." 

Fremont  organized  a  military  battalion,  and  alTorded  protection  to  Americans  at  Suiter's 
Fort,  and  marched  south  to  punish  General  Castro  for  the  warfare  they  had  waged  against  him. 
This  military  organization  of  f-'rcmont's  is  historically  known  as  the  renowned  California  Bat- 
talion, and  became  the  active  power  of  subduing  California.  And  in  a  revolt  of  the  Californians 
to  our  authority  after  their  submission,  Fremont's  command  again  brought  them  to  submission. 
About  two  weeks  after  the  flag  was  raised,  Fremont  came  with  his  command  to  Monterey  and 
volunteered  their  services  to  Commodore  Stockton,  who  had  succeeded  Sloat,  and  was  anxious 
to  carry  an  active  wa.'  against  the  Californians  in  arms  against  us. 

The  English  admiral  was  still  at  Monterey  when  Fremont  came,  and  looked  on  with  his  nlfi- 
cers  with  much  interest.  It  was,  indeed,  a  novel  and  interesting  sight — the  command,  number- 
ing two  or  three  hund.ed  men,  marching  in  a  square,  wiihin  which  was  the  cattle  which  they 
w^ere  driving  for  their  subsistence.  They  were  mostly  clothed  in  buckskin,  and  armed  with 
Hawkins  rifles.  The  individuality  of  each  man  was  very  remarkable.  When  they  disnioimted, 
their  first  care  was  their  rifie.  Fremont,  by  his  explorations  and  the  geographical  and  scientific 
knowledge  he  had  given  to  the  world,  was  the  conspicuous  figure.  The  hunters  and  guides  of 
his  exploring  |)arty  were  the  next  objects  sought  for.  Kit  Carson  and  the  Indians  acoinpan)- 
ing  him  were  the  objects  of  much  attention. 

The  command  carried  terror  and  dismay  to  the  Californians;  the  unerring  and  deadly  rifle 
in  the  hands  of  the  frontiersmen  was  equally  dreaded  by  the  Indian. 

The  prompt,  decisive  action  taken  by  Fremont  before  Sloat  raised  the  flag  forced  Sloat  to 
do  so,  and  was  the  great  cause  which  conspired  to  the  acquisition  of  California. 


!  :,iS  t 


;i!i, 


r    I 


d  Higgins,  and 
sailors  and  nia- 
iTcre  landed,  and 
lom-House,  and 
English,  before 
Custom-Hoiise. 
of  General  Cas- 

iaid  on  receivinj^ 
ve  hoisted  mine 

n  of  having  first 
ion." 

ricans  at  Sutter's 
iged  against  him. 
d  California  Hat- 
f  the  Californians 
sm  to  submission, 
to  Monterey  and 
,  and  was  anxious 

;d  on  with  his  ntTi- 
onimand,  numhcr- 
c.attle  which  they 
1,  and  armed  with 
\  they  riismoimted, 
hical  and  scientitic 
iters  and  guides  of 
idians  acompanj- 

and  deadly  rifle 

lag  forced  Sloat  to 


< 


hi 

a: 

H 

o 
u 

D 
O 


2 

o 

H 

t/1 
D 
U 

Q 
-1 
O 


1.  (.:■  i 


f 

i 

! 

I 


1        H 


H: 


to 


an 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Third  Expedition— Letter  to  Senator  Benton.— Senator  Dix's  Views.— Other  Senators'  Opin- 
ions.—The  Very  Rev.  Father  MacNamara. — Mexican  Authority  Ends  in  California. — Admiral 
Seymour's  View.— The  President  Wanted  California.— What  Governor  Pickens  Says. — 
Interesting  Speculations. — Embark  on  Cya>u-  for  San  Diego. — On  Road  to  Los  Angeles. — 
Castro  Disperses  his  Force. — Carson  Starts  for  Washington  with  Despatches. — Leave  Los 
Angeles  for  Sacramento. — A  Lively  Fight  with  Bears.— General  lieale's  Humorous  Account. 
— Commander  Montgomery's  Great  Loss. — Captain  Mer\-ine's  Fight. — General  Kearny 
Reaches  California. — General  Kearny  Worsted  at  San  Bernardo. — General  Kearny  Forced 
Carson  to  Return. — Carson's  Honest  Statement  of  Kearny's  Actions. — Kearny  Refuses 
being  made  Commander-in-Chief. — Kearny  Wants  f^  be  Governor. — Flores'  Weil-Con- 
sidered Plan. — Captain  Burroughs  Shot. — Severe  March  from  San  Juan  to  Los  Angeles. — 
Don  Jesus'  Wife  and  Children  Plead. — The  Treaty  of  Couenga. — Hostilities  Ended. 

Reviewing  now,  long  afterward,  the  events  of  that  time  I  come  to  the 
belief  that  the  pause  which  Commodore  Sloat  made  at  Monterey  in  execut- 
ing the  orders  ot  his  chief,  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  was  occasioned  by 
the  conflicting  despaiv-h  of  the  Secretary  of  State  to  his  consul;  which 
was  pressed  upon  Commodore  Sloat,  by  the  consul,  Mr.  Larkin,  but  which 
had  been  already  rendered  wholly  inapplicable  to  the  existing  condition  of 
affairs  before  it  was  delivered  to  him  by  Gillespie. 

Da\s  of  indecision  followed,  fluring  which  the  only  indication  of  future 
action  came  from  Commodore  Stockton. 

In  company  with  Lieutenant  Gillespie  I  went  on  board  the  Congress  to 
talk  ()\er  the  situation  with  Commodore  Stockton.  I  informed  him  fully  of 
the  interview  with  Commodore  Sloat,  and  of  its  result  in  being  told  "  that  he 
CDukl  do  nothing.'" 

The  commodore  said  to  us  in  reply  that  he  was  only  second  in  command, 
uiul  could  not  with  propriety  express  any  opinion  upon  the  conduct  of  Com- 
modore Sloat.  I  remarked  to  him,  that  in  the  course  of  the  night  I  would 
dLX'ide  whether  I  should  return  to  the  United  States,  or  remain  in  the  territory. 
Cdniniodore  Stockton  then  informed  me  that  within  a  few  da}s  he  would  be 
in  command  of  the  fo.  .:cs  on  shore  and  afloat,  and  that  on  assuming  the  com- 
maiul  he  would  inunediately  communicate  to  me  his  intentions  as  to  future 
(Iterations.     Meantime,  he  requested  me  to  remain. 

The  next  day  he  addressed  the  following  letter  to  Commodore  Sloat: 

U.  S.  Fkioatf.  Congrks.s,  July  23,  1846. 

Mv  Dk.-vr  Commodokk  :  It  is  ver\' important  to  take  General  Castro  or  to  drive  him  out 
(if  the  country.  Until  one  or  the  other  is  done,  1  see  no  hope  of  restoring  peace  and  good  order 
to  this  territory. 

1  wish  to  send  the  Cyanr  with  Captain  Fremont's  men  to  the  southward,  to  head  him  off, 
■md  flrixe  liiin  h;ii'k  lien'. 


r   i      '   i  'r        1 

11)          ^ 

\  mm  m  1 

■  f 

1.    ,        1'    : 

1 

r 

1 

[J- 

P 

1    ■, 
i 

n  i ! 


m\ 


'  irl 

'1    i 

r  m 

544 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


m 


/i  :t ! 


H:i(l  you  not  better  send  me  an  order  tf)  take  command  at  once,  and  make  my  own 
arrani^'cinrnis  - 

It  will  facilitate  operations,  and  relieve  you  from  a  great  deal  of  trouble. 

I'aitlilully  your  obedient  Her\ant, 

(Signed;        K.  V.  Stockton. 
To  Cominoidne  J.  D.  Stoat,  t'tc,  t'ic,  J'/ui^-S/ii/>  SaTtiiiiuiti. 

In  reply  to  the  ur<.jL'nt  request  of  Commodore  Stoekton  he  was  then  told 
by  Commodore  Sloat  that  on  aeeount  of  his  ill  health  he  would  return  to 
the  United  States  as  soon  as  possible,  but  was  not  yet  disposed  to  <,Mve  iiini 
the  command  of  the  squadron.  Commodore  Stoekton  says:  "  I  then  staled 
that  it  was  very  important  that  these  Mexiean  ofheers  should  be  driven  out 
of  the  country  or  taken  prisoners,  and  requested  him  to  ]ilace  under  my  com- 
mand the  United  States  ship  of  war  C'yitt/c,  then  lyin.ii"  in  tlie  harbor;  he 
did  so.  Ilavino^  then  the  command  of  all  the  forces  on  shore,  and  the 
Cono'ress  and  the  Cyaiic^  I  imn;ediately  sent  word  to  Captain  1^'renioiit  of 
what  had  occurred,  and  to  let  him  know,  that  if  he  and  Lieutenant  Gilles- 
pie, with  the  men  who  were  with  them,  M'ould  volunteer  to  serve  under  niv 
command  as  lon<;  as  I  was  in  possession  of  the  territory  and  desired  tlicir 
services,  that  I  would  form  a  battalion  and  appoint  Captain  Fremont  the 
major  and  Lieut.  Gillespie  a  captain,  and  all  the  other  neeessar}-  ofTicers  " 

This  was  all  done  in  the  course  of  the  day  and  the  next  mornino-;  and 
they  were  ordered  to  embark  on  board  the  I'nited  States  ship  Cymic,  to  W 
landed  at  San  Diego.  \\\  this  way  was  the  Navy  Battalion  of  mounted 
ritlemen  fcirmed,  and  brought  into  the  service  of  the  United  States. 

To  accept  tVc  proposal  of  Commodore  Stockton  was  to  abandon  the 
strong  and  independent  position  in  which  I  had  left  '\Vashington  and  iiiulcr 
which  i  had  continuously  acted,  and  in  which  1  knew  I  would  ha\  e  the  sup- 
port of  the  Government. 

My  plan  had  been,  with  the  willing  co-operation  of  Conmiander  Mont- 
gomery, who  had  agreed  to  meet  me  with  the  Portsiiioiilli  at  Santa  Barbara, 
and  the  enthusiastic  support  of  the  settlers  and  immigrants,  to  contiinic  llic 
movement  south  until  it  terminated  in  the  complete  conquest  ol  the  ilcpait- 
ment. 

But  the  proposal  of  Commodore  Stockton  was  not  wliat  C'uniuddore 
Sloat  had  in  mind  when  he  wrote  to  ask  my  co-operation.  His  withdrawal 
gave  a  new  face  to  affairs.  There  was  for  me  no  longer  any  initiative.  If 
Commodore  Stoekton  could  bring  himself  to  make  this  request  I  had  no  other 
course  than  to  acquiesce,  and  accept  the  new  situation  into  which  circum- 
stances forced  me. 

Knowing  that  the  men  under  my  command  would  go  with  nic,  i 
accepted  Commodore  Stockton's  proposal  to  take  service  under  him  and 
remain  with  him  as  long  as  he  required  mv  services.  And  I  adhered  to 
this  engagement  at  the  cost  of  ni}'  commission  in  the  army. 


VT. 
make  my  own 

I, 

SrciCKTON. 

was  tlicn  lold 
uld  rctuni  to 
.1  to  give  him 
■>  1  then  staled 
be  driven  out 
inder  my  com- 
lie  harbor;  lie 
here,   and  tlie 
in  Fremont  of 
iitcnant  Gilles- 
L-rve  under  my 
d  desired  their 
\  Fremont  the 
ary  officers  " 
morning;  and 
ip  C  'ya/n',  to  he 
in   of    mounted 
itates. 

0  abandon  tlie 
ton  and  under 
.1  liave  the  sup- 

limander  Mont- 
Santa  l^arbava. 
,o  continue  die 
of  tlie  depart- 

|it   Commodore 

[lis  withdrawal 
initiative.     H 
[t  I  had  no  other 

1  which  cireuni- 

Iro  with  nie,  i 
Lnder  him  and 
[\  I  adhered  to 


■J 


-J 
2 


i'l  i- 


!  11  n 


m  1 


THIRD  EXPEDITION.— LETTER   TO  SENATOR  BENTON. 


54: 


The  temporary  indecision  over,  and  a  line  of  action  adopted,  I  wrote  from 
the  old  mission  of  Carniel  to  Senator  Benton;  giving  him  a  summary  of 
events  up  to  the  date  of  writing. 

Mission  of  Carmf.i.,*  July  25,  1846. 
Mv  Df.ar  Sir:     When  Mr.  Gillespie  overtooi<  me  in  the  middle  of  May,  we  were  encamped 
on  the  northern  siiore  of  the  greater  Tlamath  Lai<e.     Snow  was  fallini;  steadily  and  heavily  in  the 
mountains,  which  entirely  surround  and  dominate  the  elevated  valley  region  into  which  we  had 
penetrated;  in  the  east,  and  north,  and  west,  barriers  absolutely  impassable  barred  our  road  ;  we 
had  no  provisions  ;  our  animals  were  already  feeble,  and  while  any  other  way  was  open,  I  coukl  not 
brinj;  myself  to  attempt  such  a  doubtful  enterprise  as  a  passajje  of  these  unknf)wn  mountains  in 
the  dead  of  winter,     livery  day  tlie  snow  was  falling;  and  in  tlie  face  of  the  depressing  influence 
exercised  im   the  people  by  the  loss  of  our  men.  and  the  unpromising  appearance  of  things.  I 
judged  it  inexpedient  to  pursue  our  journey  further  in  this  direction,  and  determined  to  retrace 
my  steps,  and  carry  out  the  \  lews  of  the  (iovernment  by  reaching  the  frontier  on  the  line  of  the 
Colorado  River.     I  had  scarcely  reached  the  Lower  Sacramento,  when  General  Castro,  then  in 
tlie  north  (at  Sonoma,  in  the  Department  of  Sonoma,  north  of  the  bay  oi  San   Francisco,  com- 
manded by  (ieneral  V'allejo),  declared  his  determination  immediately  to  proceed  against  the  lor- 
ei^ners  settled  in  the  country,  for  wlujse  expulsion  an  order  had  just  been  issued  by  the  governor 
of  the  Californias.     For  these  purposes  Castro  immediately  assembled  a  force  at  the  Mission  of 
Santa  Clara,  a  strong  place,  on  the  northern  shore  of  the  Francisco  Bay.     You  will  rememler 
how  grossly  outraged  and  ins\illed  we  had  already  been  by  this  officei  ;  many  in   my  own  camp, 
and  throughout  the  country,  tliought  that  I  should  not  have  retreated  in  March  last.     1  fell  hu- 
miliated and  humbled;  one  of  the  main  objects  proposed  by  this  expedition  had  been  entirely 
defeated,  and  it  was  the  opinion  of  the  officers  of  the  squadron  (so  I  was  informed  by  Mr.  (Jil- 
iespic)  that  I  could  not  again  retreat  consistently  with  any  military  reputation.     Unable  to  pro- 
cure supplies  elsewhere,  I   had  sent  by  Mr.  (lillespie  to  Captain   Montgomery,  commanding  the 
United  States  ship  of  war  I\>t/si>ioiil/i,  then  lying  at  Monterey,  a  small  requisition  for  such  sup- 
plies as  were  indispensabl)- necessary  to  leave  the  valley  ;  and  my  animals  were  now  in  s\ich  a 
state  that  1  could  not  get  out  of  the  valley,  without  reachin^  the  country  which  lies  on  the  east 
side  of  them  in  an  entirely  destitute  condition.     Ha\  ing  carefully  examined   my  position,  and 
foreseeing,  I   think,  clearly,  all  the  consequences  which  may  eventuate  to  me  from  such  a  step, 
I  determined  to  take  such  active  and  anticipatory  measures  as  should  seem  to  me  most  expedi- 
ent to  protect  my  party  and  justify  my  own  character.     I  was  well  aware  of  tlie  grave  responsi- 
bility which  I  assumed,  but  I  also  determined  that,  having  once  decided  to  do  si,  I  would  assume 
it  and  its  consequences  fully  and  entirely,  and  go  through  with  the  business  completely  to  the 
end.    1  regret  that,  by  a  sudden  emergency,  I  have  only  an  hour  for  writing  to  all  friends,  and 
that  therefore  from  the  absence  of  detail,  what  I  say  to  you  will    not  be  clearlv  understood. 
Castro's  first  measure  was  an  attempt  to  incite  the  Indian  population  of  the  Joatiuin  and  Sacra- 
mento valleys,  and  the  neighboring  mountains,  to  burn  the  cro|)s  of  the  foreigners  and  otherwise 
proceed  inmiediately  against  them.     These  Indians  are  extremely  numerous,  and  the  success  of 
his  measure  would  have  been  very  destructive ;  but  he  failed  entirely.     On  the  6th  of  June  I 
decided  on  the  course  which  I  would  pursue,  and  immediatelv  concerted  my  operations  with  the 
foreigners  inhabiting  the  Sacramento  valley.     A  few  days  afterwarrls.  one  of  Castro's  officers, 
with  a  party  of  fourteen  men,  attempted  to  pass  a  drove  of  two  hundred   horses  from  Sonoma 
to  Santa  Clara,  via  New  Helvetia,  with  the  avowed  purpose  <3f  bringing  troops  into  the  country. 
On  the  nth  they  were  surprised  at  daylight  on  theConsumne  River  by  a  party  of  twelve  from 
my  camp.     The  horses  were  taken,  but  they  were  (the  men)  dismissed  without   injury.     At  day- 
break on  the  15th,  the  military  fort  of  Sonoma  was  taken  by  surprise,  with   9   brass  pieces  of 
artillery,  250   stands  of  muskets,  some  other  arms,  and  a  quantity   of  ammunition.     General 
Vallejo,  his  brother  (Captain  Vallejo),  Colonel  Prudon,  and  some  others  were  taken  prisoners, 
and  placed  at  New  Helvetia,  a  fortified  post  under  mv  command.     In  the  meantime  a  launch 
had  reached  New  Helvetia  with  stores  from  the  ship  Portsmouth,  now  lying  at  Verba  Buena,  on 


\':  '        I 


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13 


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'  ■- 

1 , 

li 

( 

'''  1 

■  .  ■  'J  ' 

% 

w 

^■;'ll 

ii' 

:ll 

*  The  Mission  of  Carmel  is  three  miles  south  of  Monterey. 


If,*! 


P    \<< 


I 


<m  ii 

i;  f ' 


1'     ^11 1 


ul      t 


54' 


MI.MOIKS  OF  MY  LI FF—JOII .\  CIIARI.h.S  IREMOXJ'. 


Franrisro  Hay.  News  of  (icncral  (Castro's  procecfiinjjs  a^jainst  ini  in  Marcli  had  reacln-d  Ciiii- 
modori'  Sloat  at  Mazatlaii  at  tlic  end  of  that  monlli,  and  lie  liad  ininiedi;a<ly  flespalc  lied 
the  ship  ]'orlsiiioulh  to  MonK'rey,  willi  ^'eneral  iiislruetions  to  protect  American  interests  in 
t'ahforni.i. 

Tliesc;  enterprises  accomplished  I  proceeded  to  tiie  American  settlements  on  the  Sacra- 
mento, and  the  Kio  de  los  Americanos,  to  obtain  reinforcements  of  men  and   rides. 

'I'lu;  information  broujjlit  by  Mr.  Ciillespie  to  Captain  Montgomery,  in  relation  to  my  po- 
sition, inrliiced  that  otficer  immediately  to  proc  eed  to  ^'<•rba  lUieiia,  whence  he  despat(  lied  his 
launch  to  inc.  I  immerliately  wrote  to  him,  by  return  of  the  boat,  describing  to  him  fullv  my 
position  and  intentions,  in  order  that  he  might  not,  by  sup|)osing  me  to  be  acting  under  orrlers 
from  our  Government,  unwittingly  commit  himself  in  affording  me  other  than  such  assisuuKe 
as  his  instructions  would  authorize  him  naturally  to  olfer  an  olTicer  tdiarged  with  an  imporiaiit 
public  duty  ;  or,  in  fine,  to  any  citizen  of  the  Cnitetl  .States. 

Information  ha\  ing  reac  lied  me  from  the  commanding  olhcer  at  .Sonoma,  that  his  post  w;)o 
threatened  with  an  attack  by  a  force  under  (ieneral  Castro,  I  raised  camp  on  the  American  I'ork 
on  the  afternoon  of  the  2jd,  and,  a<companied  by  Mr.  (iilles|jie,  at  two  in  the  morning  of  the 
J5tli,  reaclierl  Sonoma,  with  ninety  mounted  riflemen,  having  marchefl  eighty  miles.  Our  (leo- 
[lie  still  helfl  the  place,  only  one  division  r)f  Castr(/s  force,  a  sipiadron  of  cavalrv,  nuniheriiw 
seventy  men,  and  commandefl  by  J()a(|uin  de  la  Torre  (one  of  his  best  olTicersj,  having  succcerled 
in  crossing  the  straits  ( l'"rancis(-o  Hay  I.  This  forc(t  liarl  attacked  an  advanced  party  of  tweiitv 
Americans,  and  (wasi  defeated  with  the  loss  of  two  killed  and  two  or  three  wounded.  The 
Americans  lost  none.  This  was  an  unexpected  check  to  the  C'alifrirnians,  who  had  announced 
their  intentions  to  defeat  our  people  without  firing  a  gun;  to  beat  out  their  brains  with  tliiir 
"  tapaderos,"  and  destroy  them  "  con  cuchillos  puros."  They  were  lerl  to  use  this  expression 
from  the  circumstance  that  a  fi'W  days  previous  th<  y  had  capturerl  two  of  our  men  (anexpressi, 
and  after  wounding,  had  bound  them  to  trees,  and  cut  them  to  pieces  while  alive,  with  an  exat;- 
geration  of  cruelty  which  only  Indians  would  be  capable  of.  In  a  few  days  de  la  Tcjrre  was 
<liiven  from  the  country,  having  barely  succeeded  in  elTecting  his  escape  across  the  straits,  the 
guns  (six  large  and  handsome  pieces)  spiked  at  the  fort  on  tli _■  soiitlt  sifle  of  the  entrance  to 
Iraucisco  Hay,  and  the  communication  with  the  opposite  side  entirely  broken  olT,  the  hnats 
and  launches  being  either  destroyed  or  in  our  possession.  Three  of  Castro's  party  having,' 
lanrled  on  the  Sonoma  side  in  advance,  were  killed  on  the  beach  ;  and  beyond  this  there  was 
no  loss  on  either  side.  In  all  these  proceedings,  Mr,  (iillespie  has  acted  with  me.  We  narlR-d 
Sonoma  again  on  the  evening  of  July  4th,  and  in  the  morning  I  called  the  people  together,  and 
■spoke  to  them  in  relation  to  the  position  of  the  country,  advising  a  course  of  operations  wlii(  li 
was  unanimously  adopted.  California  was  declared  independent,  the  country  |)ut  under  mar- 
tial law,  the  force  organizerl  and  officers  elected.  A  pledge,  binrling  themselves  to  support  these 
measures,  and  to  obey  their  officers,  was  signed  by  those  present.  The  whole  was  placed  ujukr 
my  directi^)n.  Several  officers  from  the  I'ortsmouth  were  present  at  this  meeting.  LeavingCa|)- 
tain  (irigsby  with  fifty  men  in  command  of  Sonoma,  I  left  that  place  on  the  6tli,  and  reached  niy 
(•ncampment  on  the  American  I'ork  in  three  days.  Hefore  we  arriverl  at  that  place,  (ieneral 
Castro  had  evacuaterl  Santa  Clara,  which  he  had  been  engaged  in  fortifying,  and  with  a  force  of 
about  four  hundred  men,  anrl  two  pieces  of  artillery,  commenced  his  retreat  u[)on  St.  John's,  a 
fortified  iiost,  having  eight  iiirces  of  artillery,  principally  brass.  On  the  evening  of  the  loth 
we  were  electrilied  bv  the  arrival  of  an  express  from  Captain  Montgomery,  with  the  information 
that  Commodore  Sloat  had  hoisted  the  Hag  of  the  United  States  at  Monterey,  and  taken  posses- 
sion of  the  country.  Captain  Montgomery  had  lioist('d  the  Hag  at  Yerba  Hiuma,  and  sent  one 
to  Sonoma,  to  bt-  hoisted  at  that  place.  One  also  was  sent  to  the  ofTicer  commanding  at  New 
lleJMtia.  rerpiesting  that  it  might  bo  hoistcfl  at  his  post. 

Independence  and  the  flag  of  the  United  States  are  synonymous  terms  to  the  foreigners 
here  I  the  northern,  which  is  the  stronger  part,  particularlvi,  and  accordingly  I  directed  the  flay 
to  be  hoisted  with  a  salute  the  next  morning.  The  ('venl  ])roduced  great  rejoi<  ing  among  our 
people.  The  next  day  I  received  an  express  from  Commodore  Sloat,  transmitting  to  me  his 
proclamation,  and  directing  me  to  proceed  with  the  force  under  my  orders  to  Monterey.  Hh' 
registered  force,  actuallv  in  arms,  under  my  orders,  numbered  two  hunrlred  and  twenty  rific- 
Pten.  with  line  piece  of  field  artillery,  and  ten  men,  in  addilion  to  the  artillery  nf  tlic  L;arris('::. 


).\r. 

,u\  rciiclicd  r.im- 
iiili'ly  (Ifspali  lu'd 
ricaii  iiilLTi-sls  in 

Its  on  llic  Sa(  r;i- 
I  rifles. 

elation  to  my  po- 
le (Icspiitclicd  liis 
^  to  liiin  tiilly  my 
tin^  under  ordurs 
,n  such  assisuiiicc 
ivilli  an  important 

that  liis  post  wii" 
lu!  Anieriean  I'nrlc 
le   morning  of  tlie 
y  miles.     <  )ur  peci- 
ravalry.  numberinj^ 
,  having  snciccrled 
cfl  party  of  twenty 
•ee  woiind<-d.     Tlie 
ho  had  announied 
ir  brains  with  ttu-ir 
ise   this  ex|)ressi<jn 
ir  men  (an  ex|iressi, 
tlive,  with  an  exaji- 
ys  de  la  Torre  was 
OSS  the  straits,  the 
i)f  the  entrance  to 
)ken  off,  the   Imals 
ilro's    iiarty  having 
ond  this  there  was 
ine.     We  naclied 
pie  to^jetlier,  and 
f  operations  which 
ry  imt   under  niar- 
s  to  support  these 
was  placed  under 
n^.     Leavin>,'('ap- 
th,  .md  reached  my 
at  place,  (ieneral 
nd  with  a  force  of 
upon  St.  John's,  a 
■ninj;  <if  the  lolh 
ilii  the  infornialii'ii 
and  taken  p(]sses- 
ina,  and  sent  one 
mniandinj^  at  New 

to  the  foreigners 
directed  the  llaK 
■joicin^' among  mir 
smittinj;  to  me  his 
:o  Monterey.    The 

and  twenty  rille- 
rv  of  the  icarriso:;. 


r. 

o 
P 
3 

u 

D 

O 

v. 

3 

cc 

H 
7) 


y. 

y. 


a: 
y 


Hi  ' 


Hm    ■ 


in 
so 
;it( 
in 
at 
po: 

he 

Ian 

a,i,'; 

Ka: 

her 

casi 

ited 

disii 

fore 

don 

ha\-( 

"•itl- 


or  ir 
tary 


THIRD  liXI'EDlTIOX.—SliXATOK  DJX'S  V/EIVS. 


547 


We  were  on  the  eve  of  niarcliin{;  on  Castro  when  this  intelli^jence  arrived  ;  accordingly.  1 
directed  my  inarch  upon  Monterey,  wiierc  I  arrived  on  the  e\ening  of  tlie  19th,  with  a  command 
o(  one  hundred  and  sixty  mounteci  riflemen,  and  one  piece  of  artillery.  1  found  also  there 
I'oiiiMiodore  .Stockton  in  command  of  the  Ci'iij^rrxs,  i>'.\A  Admiral  Seymour,  in  command  of  her 
liritunnic  majesty's  ship  Collin^wiuul,  of  eighty  guns.  I  liavtr  heen  badly  interrupted,  and  shall 
scarcely  he  alile  to  put  you  in  full  possession  of  .)ccurrences. 

Toconiebrielly  toaconclusion,  Commodore  SI  lat  has  transferred  the  squadron,  with  Califor- 
nia and  its  appurtenances,  into  the  hands  of  Commodore  Stockton,  who  has  resolved  to  make  good 
llie  possession  of  California.  This  officer  ap])roves  entiri.y  of  the  course  pursued  hy  myself  and 
Mr.  (jillespie.  who,  1  repeat,  has  heen  haiul-in-hand  with  me  in  this  business.  1  received  this 
mnriiing  from  Commodore  .Stockton  a  commission  of  nuijor  in  the  United  .States  army,  retain- 
ing command  of  my  battalion,  to  which  a  force  of  eighty  marines  will  be  attached.  We  arc 
under  orders  to  eml)ark  to-morrow  morning  on  board  the  Cyaitc  sloop  of  war,  and  disembark  at 
S.iii  Diego,  immediately  in  the  rear  of  Castro.  He  is  now  at  the  Puebla  de  los  Angeles,  an  in- 
icrior  city,  with  a  force  of  about  live  hundred  men,  supposed  to  be  increasuig.  The  design 
is  to  attack  him  with  my  force  at  that  place.     He  has  there  seven  or  eight  pieces  of  artillery. 

Commodore  Sloat.  who  goes  home  by  way  of  I'anaina,  promises  to  hand  or  send  you  this 
immediately  on  his  arrival  at  Washington,  to  which  he  goes  direct.  It  is  my  intention  to  leave 
this  country,  if  it  is  within  the  bounds  of  possibility,  at  the  end  of  August.  I  could  then  suc- 
acd  in  crossing  without  fear  on  account  of  the  snow  ;  and  by  that  time  a  territorial  government 
will  he  in  operation  here. 

Yours  very  truly. 

J.  C.  Fkk.mcj.nt. 

lion.  Tlioiiias  II.  Iliitttm.  I 'ni'tril .Sta/vs  Senatr,  Was/iiiij^'/dii  Ci/y.  J).  C. 


For  the  icasDH  that  will  be  naturall}'  conceded  to  me,  that  I  feel  special 
interest  in  having  this  part  of  California  liistory  unders*-:)od,  I  introduce  here 
some  extracts  from  a  discussion  in  the  Senate  of  the  United  states  immedi- 
ately upon  the  close  of  the  war.  In  this  I  anticipate  somewhrt,  bu»  I  do  so 
in  order  to  complete  the  record  by  showincj  how  these  events  were  viewed 
at  the  time  they  took  place  by  men  in  the  Government  who  wen  in  the  be^:t 
position  to  have  correct  information  and  to  understand  them. 

In  a  speech  in  the  Senate  by  Senator  Di.\  to  which  fuller  reference  will 
liL-  made  when  I  reae.'i  a  later  subject,  he  gives  clearly  the  attitude  of  Kng- 
land  towards  us  at  the  time  immediately  preceding  the  declaration  of  war 
ajfainst  Mexico;  and,  from  a  discussion  in  the  House  of  Lords  in  1845,  the 
Earl  of  Aberdeen  defending  the  Ministry,  shows  the  power  England  gives 
her  admirals  on  foreign  stations  and  the  use  she  makes  of  the  results  in 
cases  similar  to  that  of  California.  Iler  usage  was  to  leave  to  them  unlim- 
ited discretion  in  great  contingencies;  reserving  it  to  herself  to  support  or 
disavow  their  acts,  but  always  demanding  action.  Senator  Dix  makes  it 
Idivihlv  clear  that,  if  the  work  on  land  had  not  been  done  on  which  Commo- 
dore Sloat  based  his  raising  of  tlie  American  flag.  Admiral  Seymour  would 
have  raised  that  of  England,  and  California  would  have  been  lost  to  us;  for 
with  iier  vastly  superior  navy  the  chances  of  war  were  largely  against  us. 

It  will  be  borne  in  mind  that  this  speech  was  not  made  by  an  incautious 
or  inadequately  informed  person.  General  Dix  was  a  member  of  the  Mili- 
tary Committee  of  tlie  vSenate  and  Senator  from  New  York;  his  military 


i.i.    :).. 


'■m' 


'(;■ 


•1 


'Uillii'j 


■  I 'I  ,, 


ll  ' 


;l  M 


li^V 


5^•'^ 


iVi-.MOIRS  OF  MY  LiFE—JOIIN  CHARLES  FRjkiMONT. 


i'il  '■ 


s(.'r\  ice  and  lii_<;h  social  j'xisition  ya\'c  him  habits  of  restraint  and  respect  for 
the  courtesies  of  his  posilio:-.;  and  lie  woukl  not  iiave  made  these  assertions 
in  the  presence  of  tlie  iMniisii  Minister  unless  facts  and  the  occasion  called 
for  and  justified  tiicn. 

"  The  objects  accon:p!ished  b\'  Colonel  Fremont,  as  subsequent  events 
ha\e  shown,  were  far  more  inip.ort:int  than  those  I  have  referred  to.  There 
is  no  doubt  that  his  rapid  and  decisixe  mo\enu'nts  kept  California  out  of  the 
hands  of  IJritish  subjects  and  perhaps  out  of  the  hands  of  the  J^ritish  Govern- 
ment;  and  it  is  in  this  point  of  \  iew  that  1  desire  to  present  the  subject 
to  the  Senate."  ..."  The  n-rant  to  MacXamara  is  so  coniiectfd 
with  the  movements  of  the  public  \  essels  and  public  a<ients  of  (jreat  lirit- 
ain  as  to  raise  a  stronu^  presumption  that  he  was  secretly  countenanced 
by  the  British  (lovernment.""  .  .  .  "I  have  referred  to  the  connection 
of  MacNamara's  mo\ements  with  the  ]iublic  vessels  of  (ireat  Britain  as  pre- 
sumptive evidence  of  tlie  connection  of  the  British  (jovernment  with  them 
I  do  not  incpiirc  whether  Admiral  Seymour  had  special  instructions  or  not. 
From  the  declaration  of  Admiral  i'ur\is.  in  the  intervention  of  La  Plata,  it 
is  hiyhlv  jirobable  th;.t  British  nav.al  otFicers  cru'sint,'  in  distant  seas  have 
ii,'eneral  instruction^  A'  prolcrf  Ihilish  ////ercs/s  at  all  liazanis.''''  .  .  . 
"  I'^oni  all  the  circumstances  connected  with  tlv.  transactions  in  California. 
we  are  constrained  to  believe  that  the  British  naval  commander  was  fullv 
apprised  of  MacNamara's  objects,  as  well  as  the  design  to  place  that  counliA 
undi'r  the  protection  of  (Jreat  Britain,  and  that  he  was  there  co-opcralinu'  in 
the  one,  and  ready  to  co-operate  in  the  other."  .  .  .  "  it  is  im|iossihlc 
'hat  the  success  ol  these  movements  shonUl  not  have  brought  us  into  dirni 
collision  with  (ireat  Britain.  We  could  not  have  failed  to  re^-ard  iIkiii. 
considered  in  i.'onnection  with  her  procectliii'.rs  in  Orcii^on,  and  more  ricen! 
ly  in  Central  .\merica.  as  part  of  a  deliher.-"e  design  to  en\  iron  us  with  !kv 
colonies,  and  especiallv  to  shut  us  out  from  the  I'acitlc  and  its  cxtendini; 
commerce,  I'^rom  all  the  facts,  we  can  harelh  iloubt  I'illu'i  that  she  would 
have  taken  possession  of  the  countrv  in  her  own  name,  or,  whai  is  peilia|i^ 
mo'C  probable,  that  she  wouUl  in  the  hrst  instance  have  taken  it  r.ntler  lui 
protection."'  .  .  .  "  It  is  in  this  point  of  view  that  these  transactions  pos- 
sess the  trreatest  interest  -Am]  importance,  and  that  the  sauacity.  prom]'!!- 
luile.  and  decision  of  oui-  voutlifnl  I'ommander  in  California,  at  the  time  tin.' 
disturbance  broke  out,  have  i,Mven  him  the  stroui^cst  claims  on  his  coiintn- 
men.  Any  falterini,^  on  his  part  — anv  hesitancv  in  actin<;  promptly  -miuli! 
have  lost  us  millions  of  dollars  and  thousands  of  lives;  ami  it  mitj^lit  mIm' 
iiav  e  cost  us  a  contest  of  which  the  end  is  not  readilv  foreseen." 


Senator  Atchison,  of  Missouri,  from   the  different  stand-point  of  speeiall} 
Western   interests,  said   "that    he  felt  it  his  dutv  to  sav  something  on  tli- 


^■ipfp 


fm 


''ONT. 

and  rcsjiocl  tor 

those  assertions 

occasion  called 

bscquent  events 
rred  to.     There 
fornia  out  of  the 
Britisli  (j()\  ern- 
sent  tlie  sulijeet 
is  so  connected 
ls  of  (ireat  Urlt- 
Iv  countenanced 
)   the  connection 
It  Britain  as  pre- 
iient  with  tliem 
structions  or  not. 
,n  of  La  Plata,  it 
.listant  seas  have 
izcvc/sy     .     ■    ■ 
iMis  in  California, 
naniler  was  fully 
lace  that  couuIia 
•e  co-operating  ir, 
'  It   is  impossible 
It  us  into  direel 
to  rcLTiuxl  them. 
\n(l  more  rcceni- 
iron  us  with  her 
ntl   its  extcndini: 
1   that  she  woi'.ld 
wliai   is  perhaps 
iken  it  under  her 
transactions  pus- 
lu-acity.  proinpti- 
I,  at  the  time  the 
s  on  his  country- 
iromptly  -  niiuht 
lul  it  miu'ht  ;i1mi 
en." 

■point  of  specially 
omethintr  on  thi- 


i^-'llU 


I  ?. 


J 
y 

X 

< 
u 

X 

< 

14 


< 

u 

J 


r  ^   il: 


(   hh 


mA 


\f} 

He         1 

im 

BR 

Iff 

R£           ' 

1 

IHl           ^L 

If 

l^if 

tM 

f '■ 

(f'it  tE 


ai 


THIRD  EXPEDITJOX.— OTHER  SENATORS'   OPLXIONS. 


549 


Hill  ('California  Claims  ")  because  some  of  the  claimants  were  citizens  of 
Missouri,  and  personal  triends  with  whom  he  had  been  long  acquainted. 
i  k;  ,i,Mve  it  as  his  opinion  not  only  that  the  conquest  of  Californiri  was 
effected  by  Colonel  l'"remont,  but  that  the  United  States  had  derived  the 
achantajj^e  of  this  concpiest  at  comparatively  little  cost.  He  justified  Col- 
(iiK'l  Frcnn)nt  in  all  that  he  had  done/'  He  made  some  references  to  the 
course  which  Colonel  FrC'mont  pursued — -"a  course  in  some  instances  ren- 
dered indispensable  for  his  own  iM-eserxation,  .and  alwa\s  characteri/.ecl  In' 
>kill  and  promptitude.  War  had  existed  before  Colonel  Frc-mont  struck  a 
blow;  so  that  the  United  States  Government  is  properly  liable  for  the 
claims  which  are  provided  for  by  this  Bill.  The  epi<;rants  left  their  fami- 
lies in  the  mountain-'  and  joined  the  battalion  for  the  defence  of  Colonel 
Fremont  ind  had  received  not  a  cent  of  pay  during  nine  months  in  which 
lhc\'  served.'' 

Senator  Cass,  of  Michigan: 

"One  point,  howe\er,  has  been  touched  upon  which  I  think  it  would  be 
proper'  : -ntion.  These  operations  took  place  at  a  great  distance  off, 
and  line  ■  -culiar  circumstances.  A  great  responsibility  devob.ed  upon 
the  otHcer  at  the  head  of  the  expedition;  and  I  think  he  is  entitled  to  great 
credit  for  the  course  which  he  pursued  in  getting  possession  of  the  country.'' 

Senator  Clarke,  of  Rhode  Island,  said  ''  that  Colonel  Fremont  in  turning 
back  from  his  scientific  investigations  to  mingle  in  the  revolutionary  scenes 
in  California  was  influenced  bv  the  letter  of  the  President  of  the  United 
States,  and  the  letter  (if  Mr.  l>uchanan,  convened  to  Colonel  Fremont  by 
Lieutenant  (jillespie,  ai  '  therefore  that  the  chiims  are  entitled  to  recogni- 
tion, because  the\"  arose  out  of  instructions  sent  out  by  Government.  All 
services  which  Colonel  Fremont  performed  after  the  receipt  of  these  letters 
were  strictK  legal,  and  authorized  b\  the  Executixe:  and  the  Government 
was  as  much  bound  to  pay  for  them  a--  for  any  other  services.'' 


I II 


ill 


11 


1:: 


1  |:tj| 

'■■'  ?  ■   ^^-  mil; 


tr'.:. 


■1  .■■ 


"•Hi! 


r  '  ■' 


fin|i.||,fi. 


111., 


55« 


MEMOJKS  OF  MY  LIFE—JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


courage,  and  the  sacrifices  incurred  in  rendering  these  services,  and  by 
every  otlier  consideration  that  can  entitle  men  to  remuneration.  Tlic 
courage  and  conduct  of  Colonel  Fremont  have  signalized  his  name.  His 
services  were  peculiar,  attended  with  great  responsibility  to  himself — char- 
acterized by  great  tirmness  and  humanity,  as  well  as  devotion  to  his 
country.'' 

Senator  Allen,  of  Ohio,  said  : 

"  This  is  all  that  I  intended  to  say  on  the  subject  ;  but  if  I  were  to 
indulge  mvself  in  commenting  on  the  events  out  of  which  this  claim  grew. 
I  should  be  inclined  to  occup}'  some  of  the  time  of  the  Senate  in  giving  niv 
opinion  in  regard  to  the  conduct  of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Fremont,  and  iIk' 
gallant  men  under  his  command."  ..."  Nor  is  this  m}-  opinion  of  him 
just  now  or  recently  formed  ;  for  at  the  opening  of  the  war  with  Mexico.  I 
took  occasion  to  suggest  his  name  in  connection  with  a  command  in  tin.' 
war  which  would  have  enabled  him  to  e.vert  that  military  genius  and  encru\ 
which  I  knew  him  to  possess,  and  by  which  he  would  ha\e  conferred  yet 
greater  services  on  his  country.'' 

Senator  Badger,  of  North  Carolina,  said  : 

.  .  .  "  We  next  tind  him  in  Oregon,  where  he  is  overtaken  by  a  mes- 
senger, an  officer  of  the  Government,  who  bore  to  him  a  letter,  and -there  is 
no  use  in  concealing  it,  sir — although  it  purported  to  be  a  mere  letter  of  info- 
duction,  it  was,  in  reality,  an  ofBcial  document,  accrediting  the  bearer  of  it 
to  Colonel  Fremont,  with  a  view  to  the  union  of  the  two,  in  devising  sonic 
means  to  counteract  the  designs  of  the  British  emissaries.  Captain  (iillcs- 
pie,  the  otTicer  to  whom  I  allude,  in  his  evidence  before  the  Committee  on 
Military  Affairs,  states,  that  he  was  directed  to  convey  the  order  of  tlu' 
Government  to  Colonel  I"'remont,  to  watch  the  interests  of  the  I'liitn! 
States  in  California.  This,  sir,  was  the  purport  of  Captain  Gillespie'-- 
mission  :  and  so  soon  as  the  conununieation  was  made  to  him,  Coloml 
Fremont  returned  to  California,  under  the  order  of  his  Government,  and  by 
its  express  authority." 

Th.e  W-ry  Rev.  Father  MacNamara  was  an  apostolic  missionary  who 
had  projected  a  fai -reaching  plan  to  colonize  California  with  emignmts 
from  Irelanil.  Evidently,  in  the  exercise  of  his  special  functions,  he  h;u! 
selected  California  as  the  field  for  his  labors.  Looking  back  to  the  wcil 
of  the  early  missionaries,  it  was  surely  a  great  lield,  and  a  noble  ambition  l" 
revive  on  a  higher  plane  the  power  of  the  Church  as  it  had  existed  in  tlu' 
old  missions.  In  this  he  was  strongly  supported  by  the  Archbisiiop  dl 
Mexico  who  earnestl}'  recommended  his  plan  to  the  authorities.     During' 


)X7\ 

vices,  and  by 
oration.  '1"1k' 
is  name.  His 
himself — ehai- 
;votion    to   liis 


it  if  I  were  to 
liis  claim  <j;re\v, 
c  in  givinij;  niv 
cmont,  and  the 
■  opinion  of  him 
with  Mexico.  1 
jommand  in  \.W 
inius  and  eneii:y 
•e  conferred  yet 


rtaken  by  a  mcs- 
er,  and  —there  is 
re  letter  of  inl'o- 
the  bearer  of  it 
n  devising  sonic 
Captain  ( iilles- 
c  Committee  en 
he  order  of  tlic 
\   of    the    Tnilal 
ptain    GillespicV 
to  him,  Colonil 
lernment,  and  l\\ 


missionary  wli" 
with  cmif2;rant> 
Imctions,  he  h:ul 
lack  to  the  work 
loblc  ambition  to 
lid  existed  in  Hk' 
Archbishop  o( 
horities.     Durinil 


THIRD  EXPEDITION.- 


-THE  VERY  REV.  FATHER  MC XA.]r,l R.l.    -ri 


his  stay  in  the  city  of  ^Icxico,  he  lived  cither  in  the  family  of  the  E!i_i(lish 
consul  or  the  Charge  d'Affaires.  Early  in  January  he  laid  before  the  Pres- 
ident of  Mexico  his  plan  "to  colonize  California  with  Irish  Catholics."  In 
bis  application  to  the  President  he  says  that  no  people  of  the  old  continent 
lie  better  fitted  for  colonization  and  better  adapted  to  the  reliL,'ioii,  charac- 
ter, and  temperament  of  the  inhabitants  of  Mexico  ;  "  that  the  Irish  jieople 
are  devout  Catholics,  moral,  industrious,  sober,  and  bra\c.  He  ;>ays,  that  in 
making:;  this  proposition  he  has  in  view  three  objects  :  t.rst  to  advance  the 
cause  of  Catholicism  ;  secondly,  to  contribute  to  thi  happiness  of  his  couii- 
trvnien  :  and  in  the  third  place,  he  wishes  to  place  an  impediment  to  further 
usurpations  on  the  part  of  an  irreligious  and  anti-Cat!iolic  nation.  And  tor 
these  object^  he  proposes  that  an  extensi\e  territor\'  upon  the  sea-'-oast  of 
Upper  California  be  jj^ranted  to  him.  The  tirst  colonists  were  to  be  estab- 
lished on  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco  ;  to  betjin,  one  thousand  families  would 
be  brought,  and  afterward  a  second  colony  to  be  established  about  Montere\-, 
and  a  third  about  Santa  Barbara.  In  this  way  the  whole  coast,  at  least 
that  part  of  it  where  there  was  danger  to  be  apprehended,  would  remain 
completely  assured  against  the  invasions  and  robberies  of  loreigners.  One 
square  league  was  to  be  given  to  each  family,  free  of  all  cost  ;  and  to  those 
children  of  the  colonists  who  should  marry,  half  a  league  each,  as  a  gift  of 
the  nation.  An  exemption  from  all  taxation  was  to  be  gr.inted  for  a  certain 
miniber  of  years  ;  and  the  colonists  were  to  be  considered  under  the  pritec- 
tion  of  the  (jovernment  ind  in  ^\v  enjoyment  of  all  their  lights,  upon  taking 
possession  of  their  lands. 

In  a  reply  under  date  of  the  it)tli  of  |aiiuar\  Iroiii  the  Minister  (^f  h'or- 
eign  Relations,  Father  MacNamar;i  is  inh)rmed  thai  the  project  ol  coloniza- 
tion in  California  which  he  had  presented  to  the  suprenu'  (ioxernment  had 
been  considered  bv  tlic  Cabinet,  which  had  decided  that,  in  view  of  the 
neeessitv  of  adopting  some  \  igorous  measures  upon  that  subject  and  other 
eoneessions  which  were  properly  functions  of  Congress,  an  account  of  the 
whole  matter  would  be  referred  to  that  body,  and  that  this  would  be  done 
at  a  fitting  time. 

It  appears  that  there  was  some  hesitation  on  the  part  of  the  (io\ern- 
inent  ;  but  the  principal  and  onlv  objection  to  taking  immediate  steps  for 
tounding  the  colony  was  the  ditFiculty  of  obtaining  the  necessary  iiT-ans  for 
transporting  the  colonists  to  their  destination.  To  this  objection  heather 
MaeXamara  replies  in  another  conimun'cation  to  the  President.  In  this  he 
sets  out  the  means  by  wlvch  he  proposes  u>  obtain  the  necessary  tunds  ;  one, 
by  the  sale  of  the  sniaii  projXMtie^  of  the  colonists,  another,  by  hyjiotheca- 
lion  of  a  grant  of  1;uk1s  whi\'h  vx)uld  be  given  hin  :  and  finally ,  the  use  ot 
tile  import  iluties  at  tiic  -"v>rt  of  San  h'rancisco,  which  he  asks  from  the 
(iovcmnient.      And  he  t.»-gcs  u\^>n  the  Mexican  Pix'sident  the  expedicncx   of 


wm 


pm 


!;  ii' 


it     ,    |.^>r:i 


"I     ; 


f   I 


552 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  [.U-E—JOIfX  CflAKLES  IREMOXT. 


losing  no  time  in  this  important  affair,  "  if  success  is  to  be  looked  for." 
"  ^'our  r,\c;'llenc\ ,"  he  says,  "  knows  too  well  that  we  are  surrounded  by  a 
vile  and  skilful  enemy  who  loses  no  means,  however  low  the}-  iua\-  he,  to 
possess  himself  of  the  best  lands  of  that  country,  and  who  hates  to  the  death 
your  race  and  your  relijj,ion."'  "If,"  he  continues,  "  the  means  I  propose  to 
you  are  not  iiromptly  adopted,  your  Excellency  ma\- rest  assured  lh;it  before 
a  year  the  C'alifornias  will  form  part  of  the  American  Union."  .  .  .  ••  I 
have  no  personal  interest  in  this  affair,  sa\e  the  proo;ress  of  the  Iloh'  Relig- 
ion of  God,  and  the  happiness  of  \w\  countr\-men  ;  as  for  the  loxaltv  and 
fidelity  of  these  to  tlu'  Mexican  (jon  ernment,  I  answer  with  my  life.  And 
as  there  can  he  brought  a  suiricienl  number  of  colonists,  at  least  ten  thousand, 
I  am  of  opinion  and  can  atlirm  with  certaint}'  that  this  number  would  hi' 
sufficient  to  repel  both  the  secret  iiitriij^ues  and  the  open  attacks  of  thu 
American  usurpers.'' 

It  is  in  evidence  that  his  project  secured  the  ap'irobation  of  the  Mexican 
Cioxernment  :  and  that  he  went  to  Calitornia  to  perfect  his  plans  under  the 
auspices  of  the  Enijlish  Government.  On  the  20th  of  June  he  arrived  at 
Santa  Barbara,  California,  in  th«,'  frigate  'yiiiio  which  had  brought  him  up 
from  Ma/atlan. 

It  appears  that,  immediately  upon  his  ;;rrival,  MacNamara  submitted  his 
plans  to  the  (iovernor  Don  Pio  Pice,  who  urged  them  favorably  upon  the- 
Deparlmentai  Assembly  in  his  official  note  of  the  24th  June.  On  the  ist  of 
July  he  addresscxl  to  the  Gc)\'ernt)r  ;;  petition,  in  the  usual  form,  setting  out 
the  fact  that  he  had  arrived  in  California  with  the  object  of  establishing  a 
colons  of  his  countrymen  ;  that  he  had  received  the  benign  co-operation  of 
the  \  encnible  and  illustrious  Archbishop  of  ?^Ie.\ico  and  the  cordial  recogni- 
tion of  the  supreme  Ciovernment,  which  had  recommended  him  to  coinr  in 
person  to  the  department  1.0  select  the  land  adapted  to  his  purpose  ;  in  sit 
out  to  the  go\  ernor  his  project  of  coUjni/ation  ;  aiul  to  go  through  the  cus- 
tom;ir\'  forinalities. 

lie  offers  to  contract  with  the  Government  to  introduce  into  the  depart 
menl.  in  the  shortest  possiWv  time,  two  thousand  families  of  Irish  people, 
SimiX  'le --olicits  the  governcvi  to  cause  to  Iv  adjudicated  to  him  in  ownership 
the  lands  situated  Ix'twivn  the  rixer  Siui  Joaquin,  from  its  source  to  \\> 
m^iuth.  and  the  Sierra  Ne\ada  :  tliv  northern  boundary  to  be  the  Consumnc 
River,  and  tlic  soutliern  the  extremity  of  the  Tulares  in  the  \icinitv  <»f  San 
(iabrio^'k  This  applic;4?ton  was  daKnl  Santa  Hail'.ira,  July  ist.  Bef(tre  tlit 
arifix^ti  of  L'oran'iiKHk'^r'e  Sloa*.  tidings  of  tlie  b.altles  of  the  Rio  (jrande  hail 
alreaily  reached  Cit-Hforniu  through  New  Mexico  and  Arizona  oxerlain.  : 
and  the  authorities  wIh)  were  all  la\oraM_\  dis|>osed  to  the  MacNamara 
project,  hurried  forward  the  fs>uc  i>t  this  and  a  number  of  other  land  grant- 
The  goNcrnor  immediately  rcfenvd  thv>  application  of  Fatht  r  MacXain::: 


V7'. 

looked   for." 
rounded  by  a 
:y  may  be,  to 
s  to  tbc  death 
^  1    propose  to 
cd  that  before 
'      .      .     .     "1 
K-  Holy  Reli- 
he  loyalty  aiul 
my  life-.     Ami 
,t  ten  thousand, 
liber  would  he 
attacks  of  the 

of  the  'Nlexiean 
plans  under  the 
c  he  arrived  at 
brought  him  up 

ira  submitted  his 
orubly  upon  the 
p.  On  the  ist  of 
form,  setting  out 
f  establishing  a 
,1  co-ope-ration  (it 

cordial  reeogni- 
|\  him  to  come  m 
I  purpose  ;  1"  ^^'^ 

through  the  ens- 

|e  into  the  depart- 
,,f    Irish   peopk'. 
Ihim  in  ownership 
its   source  to  it> 
be  the  Consuninii 
le  vicinity  of  San 
I  St.      Before  ihi 
\Uo  (irande  hau 
.li/ona  overlaiia  ; 
the  MaeNani^i" 
otlu '  land  grants 
Ithe!  MacNani 


MEXICAN  AUTHORITY  ENDS  IN  CALIEORNIA. 


553 


to  the  Departmental  Assembly,  with  a  request  that  it  should  give  its  opinion 
upon  tile  subject  and  return  it  to  him  for  final  action. 

On  tlie  4th  of  July  the  go\ernor  issued  a  grant  conformably  to  the  appli- 
cation, reciting  that  the  Departmental  Assembly  iiad  agreed  to  grant,  for 
colonization  by  Irish  families,  the  lands  solicited  by  the  Father  Eugenio 
MacNamara,  subject  to  the  approval  of  the  Supreme  National  Government 
and  under  the  usual  conditions  which  accompanied  grants  of  land  in  Cali- 
fornia. The  boundaries  were  the  same  as  I  have  already  stated,  and  the 
number  of  families  to  constitute  the  colony  was  tl.xed  at  three  thousand,  to 
each  of  whom  a  square  league  of  land  was  to  be  assigned,  making  in  all 
thirteen  and  a  half  millions  of  acres. 

L^ion  the  7th  of  July  at  Los  Angeles  the  Departmental  Assembly  trans- 
mitted to  the  go\ernor  the  report  of  a  special  committee,  appr()\"ed  b\'  tlie 
Assembly  in  extra  session  of  that  date,  upon  the  eoU)ni/ation  project  which 
ho  had  ''  referred  to  them  with  the  expression  of  his  great  desire  that  it  be 
<,n\en  immediate  effect." 

But  it  was  too  late.  On  the  morning  of  the  day  that  the  Departmental 
Assembly  communicated  to  the  governor  their  formal  appro\  al  of  the  Mac- 
Namara grant  the  Hag  of  the  United  States  was  hoisted  at  Monterey,  and 
the  Mexican  authorit}'  ended  in  California. 

The  Mexican  archives  comprehending  tlic  titles  to  land  in  California 
were  taken  possession  of  by  me,  and  among  them  the  grant  to  MacNamara. 
This,  with  the  documents  relating  to  it,  I  delivered  to  the  Government  in 
Washington.  All  other  titles  to  land  I  delivered  afterward  to  General 
Kearny. 

We  cannot  fail  to  s^npathizc  with  the  grief  of  a  mind  which  had  con- 
ceived a  project  so  far-reaching  and  which  had  experienced  the  shock 
of  overthrow  in  the  moment  of  its  complete  success.  The  time,  the 
thought,  the  labor  of  solicitation,  the  patient  endurance  with  slower  or 
inferior  mmds — all,  had  resulted  in  the  blank  of  absolute  failure. 

In  the  interest  of  his  Church  it  was  a  nobly  conceived  plan  ;  one  among 
the  great  ideas  which  affect  nations.  Doubtless,  in  looking  abroad  for  a 
tick!  of  missionary  labor,  he  had  chosen  this,  as  out  of  all  others  that  one 
which  combined  singular  advantages  and  promised  the  most  glorious  results 
tor  tile  Church  of  which  he  was  a  devoted  serAant  :  laboring  with  no  selfish 
aim  other  than  the  satisfaction  which  he  promised  himself  in  the  advance- 
ment of  his  religion  and  the  h.'tpr>iness  of  his  countrymen.  Under  his  direc- 
tion the  three  thousand  families  would  have  spread  over  the  whole  beautiful 
valley  of  the  San  Joaquin.  Farms  would  have  occupied  the  ri\er  lands,  and 
the  plains  between  would  have  served  as  cattle  ranges  in  that  climate  of 
mderful  animal  growth  ;  and  among  the  innumerable  springs  and  streams 


\V( 


of  til 


e  foot-hills,  and   up  to  the  snow  of  the  Sierra  would  h.ive  been  happv 


*'!i 


iii< 

1 

111 


554 


MEMOIRS  OF  MV  LIFE— JO  If. V  CHARLES  FR/-:M0NT. 


\  i 


ft   -^^ 


and  prosperous  homesteads.  I'nder  the  <fuidance  of  an  intelHgent  and 
stable  authorit\  the  L;ro\es  of  yraiul  old  oaks,  and  the  nia^nitieent  ]iine  for- 
ests would  not  ha\e  been  swept  away.  With  its  ad\antaj^es  of  climate  and 
soil  and  abundant  streams  the  whole  valley  would  have  presented  a  picture 
of  aj^rieultural  beauty  unsurpassed  on  earth. 

The  mountain  Indians  would  have  been  reclaimed  and  made  useful 
herdsmen  and  laborers,  and  the  abandoned  missions  alon<;  the  coast  would 
have  been  restored  on  a  hi<j[her  level  and  made  centres  of  productive  lahoi. 
The  Indians  would  have  been  held  under  the  steady  inlluence  of  a  tlrni 
iXovernment  and  educated  to  the  advantaijes  of  eixilization  and  not  left  onlv 
to  the  detcradinLC  contact  with  its  vices.  This  is  not  merely  an  opinion 
asserted.  It  had  been  a  reality  proved  by  the  successful  work  of  the  mis- 
sions when  the  country  was  very  remote  and  the  resources  were  w\y  from 
within  themsehes. 

I  re'di/.ed  fully  at  the  time  what  I  ha\e  been  here  writing,  for  it  hap. 
pened  that  just  in  those  da^ys  when  the  colonization  project  failed,  I  wrote 
from  the  quiet  of  the  beautiful  ruin  of  the  old  C'armel  Mission  to  Senator 
Benton,  of  the  c\ents  which  had  brought  me  to  that  date  and  place.  The 
date  of  the  letter,  "C'armel  Mission,  July  i\.  1S46,"  carried  witii  it,  for 
me,  a  marked  significance;  it  entled  my  mission  as  well  as  that  of  Mac- 
Namara.  After  the  wreck  »f  his  hopes,  Father  MacNamara  left  California 
in  Admiral  Seymour's  tlag-ship,  the  Collino-vood. 

From  early  in  '45,  through  to  the  commencement  of  hostilities,  \v;n 
with  Mexico,  though  not  begun,  was  accepted  as  imminently  certain.  The 
hostile  forces  faced  each  other  on  the  banks  of  the  Rio  Grande.  On  the 
Pacific  coast  we  were  facing  ICngland.  Her  fleet  there,  commanded  bv 
Rear  Admiral  Sir  (Jeorge  Seymour,  was  the  largest  she  had  ever  sent  to 
those  waters.  Mexico  had  no  fleet,  and  her  coast  on  the  Pacific  was  com- 
paratively defenceless.  The  chief  anxiety  of  our  (iovernment  was  to  he 
the  first  to  seize  California,  and  with  or  without  war,  and  in  no  event,  and 
U'ldcr  no  disguise,  to  let  pjigland  take  possession  of  that  countr}-.  The 
h^nglish  fleet  watched  closely  the  movements  of  the  American  commodore. 
T3eing  aware  of  this  fact  Commodore  Sloat,  upon  hearing  of  the  first  battle 
on  the  Rio  (irande.  got  under  way  in  the  frigate  Savannah,  then  at  anchor 
off  Mazatlan.  for  the  ostensible  purpose  of  proceeding  to  California  ;  an 
English  vessel  of  war  weighed  soon  after  the  Savaiiiia/i,  and  stood  in  the 
direction  of  San  IMas,  where  it  was  known  the  English  admiral  was;  after 
cruising  in  the  (lulf  two  days,  the  commodore  returned  to  his  anchorajic 
off  Mazatlan,  when  another  F^nglish  ship  got  under  way  and  stood  in  the 
direction  of  San  Bias.  It  is  believed  that  this  manceuvrc  of  Conmiodore 
Sloat  was  intended  to  mislead  the  I'^nglish  admiral.  On  the  Stli  Juno 
the  Savannah  again  made  sail  and  after  a  passage  of  twenty-three  da\s. 


J  ,M 


mack   useful 
;  coast,  would 
luctivc  labor. 
\ce  of  a  tivni 
I  not  loft  only 
ly   an  opinion 
rk  of  the  mis- 
ere  only  from 

ng,  for  it  hap. 
failed,  I  wrote 
ion  to  Senator 
id  place.  TIk' 
ed  with  it.  for 
s  that  of  Mac- 
I  left  California 

hostilities,  wai 
certain.     The 
irande.     On  the 
commanded  by 
,cl  ever  sent  to 
leitic  was  com- 
iient   was  to  be 
no  event,  anil 
country.     The 
in  commodore. 
If  the  first  battle 
then  at  anelior 
California  :  an 
,d   stood   in  the 
niral  was;  after 
l)  his  anchorage 
md  stood  in  the 
of  Commotl'ire 
the    Sth  June 
jnty-three  da\s. 


rn/RD  EXPEDITION.— ADMIRAL  SEYMOUR'S  VIEW. 


555 


during  which  a  press  of  canvas  was  carried,  she  arrived  on  llie  2d  of  July 
at  the  port  of  Monterey,  in  Upper  California.  'The  Co/h'iii^-i.ooif  of  eight\' 
^'•uns,  llag-siiip  of  Admiral  Seymour,  cnlcretl  llie  harbor  on  the  ir)tii  of  juh. 

Concurrent  events  make  it  clear  that  it  was  Admiral  Sc\in<)ur"s  inten- 
tion to  hoist  the  English  flag  at  Monterey,  but  the  movements  of  Conuno- 
dore  Sloat  misled  him  :ind  lie  came  into  the  harbor  too  late.  .Still  he  did 
not  admit  that  California  was  lost  to  ICngland.  This  will  be  recognized  in 
the  letter  by  whicli  he  instructed  Knglisb  consids  at  the  different  ports  in 
the  attitude  they  were  to  maintain.  These  instructions  show  that  he  looked 
upon  the  questic  n  as  only  adjourned,  and  that  the  raising  of  the  tlag  of  the 
United  States  eperated  simply  as  a  stay  of  proceedings. 

The  cool  a  id  defiant  tone  of  the  note,  with  which  he  comnninicated  a 
copy  of  thesj  instructiows  to  commodore  Sloat,  shows  that  it  was  in  this 
liirht  he  wished  that  officer  to  know  that  he  regarded  the  situation. 

\\.  B.  M.  Ship  Coi.linowood. 

MoNlKKKV,  July  22,   1846. 

•SlK  :  As  I  think  it  desirable  that  you  should  be  in  possession  of  my  view  of  the  present  oe- 
ciipation  of  this  provinee  l)y  the  'urce  under  your  eomniand,  and  the  duties  and  eonduct  which 
1  have  recommended  to  Her  l?ritannic  Majesty's  vice-consul  under  the  cireumstanecs,  I  beg  to 
incUise,  for  your  information,  a  ropy  of  a  letter  I  have  this  day  addressed  to  Mr.  ForI)es  ;  and, 
with  every  consideration,  have  the  honor  to  remain 

Your  most  oliedicnt  servant, 

(Signed)  G,  F,  Skymour, 

Near  A<fmiral  and  Ciuinnaiidi'i-in-Clu'cf  of  //.  />.  .l/.'v  St/iiadron  in  llw  Pacific. 

To  Commodore  Sloat,  Commander-in-Cliicf  of  the  I'ni/fd  States  Sqitadroii,  Pacific. 

\Copy.\ 

H.  M.  Snu'  CoLLiNGwoon, 

MoNiKKKv,  22d  July,  1S46, 

Sir  :  On  quitting  the  coast  of  Upper  California,  it  may  be  useful  to  you  that  I  should 
shortly  state  my  views  of  your  situation  as  Her  Majesty's  vice-consul  in  that  Province,  under 
present  circumstances. 

The  squadron  of  the  United  States  having  taken  forcible  possession  of  the  principal  ports, 
in  consequence  of  hostilities  having  occurred  on  the  Rio  Grande  between  the  armies  of  the 
United  States  and  Mexico,  the  value  of  the  ser\'iees  of  the  consuls  of  the  dilTerent  powers  is  en- 
hanced, in  order  that  they  may  assist  in  affording  or  obtaining  jirotection  for  their  fellow-suli- 
ii'cls,  whose  interests  may  be  compromised  in  the  distracterl  state  of  affairs  which  exists,  or  may 
he  expected  to  prevail ;  I  am,  therefore,  glad  to  have  been  informed  by  tiie  commodf)re  command- 
ing the  United  States  squadron  that  there  is  no  intention  to  disturb  the  foreign  consuls  in  the 
exercise  of  their  functions. 

I  observe  in  the  proclamation  issuefl  on  the  /ih  of  July,  that  he  acquaints  the  inhabitants 
'.hal  California  will  henceforward  be  a  portion  of  the  United  States. 

Whatever  may  be  the  expectations  of  that  officer,  I  appnliend  he  would  not  lie  warranted 
'iv  the  practice  or  law  of  nations,  nor,  I  believe,  by  the  Constitution  of  the  I'nited  Stales,  to  de- 
Hare  that  California  has  been  annex,  d  l  i  lluit  Republic:  and  that  the  tenure  under  which  the 
i'lrces  of  the  United  St;ites  at  present  hold  'his  province  should,  therefore,  lie  regarderl  as  a  pro- 
v'.sional  occupation  pending  future  di'ciiions,  or  the  issue  of  the  contest  between  the  Uniterl 
States  and  Mexico;  and  in  that  light  alone  it  should  be  regarded  by  you.  until  you  receive  in- 
structions from  the  department  undi'r  wliich  you  act,  for  your  conduct. 


'  1'  i: 


I 


m\m 


iBif 


'  i 


II 


ft 


(     ,:. 


mii 


mm 


55^ 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LUE—JOJIN  CHARLES  ERiiMONT. 


I  recommend  to  you  to  presene  the  strictest  neiitnility  between  contending;  parties,  and  to 
Cf)n(luct  yinirself  with  the  prudence  and  circumspection  which  arc  so  essential  to  make  your 
services  as  ller  Majesty's  vice-consul  beneficial  in  the  present  state  of  Upper  California. 
1  have  the  lionor  to  be.  sir,  your  obedient  servant, 

(Signed)  G.  K.  Skvmouk, 

l\car  ^Itiiiiiral  and  Cominandi'r-in-Chicf. 
To /iiiitcs  Alexander  Forbes,  Esq., 

//<•/■  Majesty's  \' ici'-Consiil  in  California. 

The  nation  seems  now  in  the  hunior  to  read  its  titles  to  its  lands  and  its 
honors.  In  this  interval  of  renewed  prosperity,  and  rest  from  ^-ivat  agita- 
tions which  were  made  personal  to  all,  they  lot)k  back,  and  read  with  coni- 
preiiendinij  interest  of  the  men  concerned  in  siiapin"'  affairs,  jiidoini,^  for 
themselves  what  intluence  their  personal  character  had  upon  national 
events.  In  readin<^  history  the  time  which  nurses  _<^rcat  events  seems  Ioult, 
but  the  culminatinii^  moments  which  briiiijj  triumph  or  disaster,  and  in  which 
men  displav  their  real  character,  are  swift  in  passin<^  and  demand  action 
ecjually  swift. 

Up  to  the  time  of  the  Louisiana  piuchase  our  western  coast  line  liad 
been  the  bank  of  the  Mississippi.  That  jj^reat  transfer  of  territory  e\tciulcd 
oiu-  limits  to  the  Pacific  and  the  settlement  of  the  Oregon  question  now 
contirnicd  oiu"  title  to  a  coast  line  on  that  ocean.  \Vith  this  question  of 
Oregon  the  country  had  been  made  familiar  by  the  efforts  of  the  statesmen 
who  had  successfully  defended  and  finally  enforced  our  title.  The  great 
value  of  California  in  itself,  and  by  its  position  commercially  so  ad\an- 
tageous,  and  geographically  appurtenant  to  the  Ignited  States,  were  until 
recently  so  little  known  as  not  to  have  attracted  public  attention  in  this 
coiuitr}'.  Its  acquisition  by  us  was  a  new  idea ;  and  entertained  only  by 
the  few  men  with  whom  an  increase  of  territor}-,  which  should  secure  for 
the  Republic  enduring  existence  and  with  it  unlimited  prosperity,  was  a 
lixed  idea.  The  histor)'  of  the  time  shows  that  these  men  were  few. 
Fewer  still  are  living  now  to  witness  the  marvellous  result  of  their  fore- 
thought. As  its  value  to  us  beean;j  cradualh'  recognized  the  idea  of  its 
acquisition  by  purchase  from  Mexico,  as  an  outlier  useless  to  her,  took 
definite  shape.  War  had  interfered  to  prevent  acquiring  a  title  to  this 
valuable  territory  by  purchase  alone;  but  the  coiu'se  of  events  had  ended 
in  possession  by  force,  finally  confirmed  to  us  both  by  treaty  and  purcliasc. 
Now  in  the  possession  of  California  the  country  had  rounded  off  its  grand 
domain,  and  could  say  with  Senator  Benton,  ''  We  own  the  country  from 
sea  to  sea — from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific — and  upon  a  breadth  equal  tn 
the  length  of  the  Mississippi  and  embracing  ths  whole  temperate  zone.'' 

The  President  had  proposed  to  himself  the  acquisition  of  California  as 
one  of  the  chief  measures  of  his  administration.  In  his  Cabinet  he  was  en- 
ergetically supported  by  his  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  Mr.  Bancroft,  who  had 


partius.  iind  to 
Id  make  your 
lifornia. 


(,r-in-Chirf. 


1;uk1s  iinil  its 
\  u-ix'iil.  aiiita- 
;;kI  with  i.i)iii- 
s,  iudf4ln^  fur 
upon  nalional 
ts  socins  loivj;, 
,  and  in  which 
Llomaml  action 

ct)ast  line  liad 
•itory  extended 
,  question  now 
his  question  of 
,f  the  statesmen 
tic.     The  great 
ally   so   ailvan- 
tites,  were  until 
ittention  in  this 
i-taincd  only  h} 
Kndd  secure  for 
•ospcrity,  was  a 
men  were  few. 
t  of  their  forc- 
1  the  idea  of  its 
•ss  to  her,  took 
.  ^  title  to  this 
cuts  had  ended 
.y  and  purchase. 
[led  off  its  grand 
he  country  from 
Ibrcadth  equal  to 
lieriitc  zone.'' 
of  California  as 
Lbinet  he  was  eiv 
.ncroft,  who  had 


T/n-:  rN/'S/PFXT  iv.i.vr/:/)  cAL/roNX/.t. 


^.■^/ 


long  before  had  this  in  \  lew  as  a  eherislied  political  measure;  for  reasons 
which  time  has  singularly  justified. 

Outside  of  his  L'abinet  lie  had  the  powerful  aid  of  Senator  Benton,  who 
was  Chairni.m  of  the  Conunittee  on  Militar}'  Affairs  and  the  head  of  tlu' 
Deinoeratie  party;  and  who,  as  is  known,  was  imbued  with  the  suhjecl  as 
belonging  with  his  plan  of  western  expansion. 

The  remoteness  of  California  rendered  it  practically  impossible  to  ojht- 
iUe  there  by  land  force  instantly  upon  the  breaking  out  of  the  war,  and  Mr. 
Marcv  made  no  preparation  for  such  ;ui  exigencv  there,  but  occupied  him- 
self with  Texas  and  Mexico  on  the  Rio  (irande. 

To  reach  California  by  a  force  overland  needed  months  of  time,  and  re- 
(piired  that  tu'st  possession  shoulil  he  had  of  the  intcr\  i.'iiing  proxince  of 
New  Mexico  which  lay  across  the  road.  Tliis  was  also  in  the  nature  of  a 
niidwa}'  station  which  could  furnish  supplies  to  an  invading  army,  and 
through  it  and  by  way  of  the  Spanish  trail  was  the  only  road  known  at  that 
time. 

The  Secretary  of  State,  Mr.  IJuchanan,  was  a  man  by  nature  habitually 
courteous  and  conciliatorv  ;  of  a  temperament  averse  to  disturbed  condi- 
tions. While  agreeing  with  Mr.  l^olk  in  this  administrative  measure,  he 
naturally  wished  that  California,  if  ac(piireil,  should  come  to  us  through 
the  Department  of  vState  and  by  his  diplomacy.  But  in  the  progress  of 
affairs  it  soon  became  evident  that  the  outcome  would  be  war.  The  duty 
of  taking  possession  of  California  as  a  %  'ar  measure  fell  to  the  willing 
hands  of  Mr.  Bancroft.  He  had  ample  uieans  to  know,  and  reason  to 
believe,  that  Mexico  intended  to  make  war  upon  us,  and  every  possible 
measure  of  precautionary  readiness  was  put  in  motion  by  him.  hi  less 
than  four  months  after  the  inauguration,  on  the  24th  day  of  June,  1H45,  he 
sent  orders  to  the  commanding  officer  of  the  naval  forces  on  the  Pacific 
that,  if  he  should  ascertain  that  Mexico  had  declared  war  against  the 
United  States,  he  should  at  once  possess  himself  of  the  port  of  San  Fran- 
cisco and  such  other  ports  as  his  force  would  permit.  Tlie  .Secretary  of 
the  Navy  repeated  these  orders  in  August  and  in  October  of  1S45,  and  in 
February  and  March  of  i(S46.  To  get  these  orders  through  Mexico  was 
a  service  of  danger,  requiring  judgment  ;  and  the  naval  officers  carrying 
them  wx're  selected  accordingly.  These  were  f^ieutenant  (lillis.  Midship- 
men INfcRae  and  fJeale  ;  and,  as  the  plan  of  the  President  became  more 
definite  and  the  need  for  action  more  pressing,  I^ieutenant  Gillespie,  who 
was  well  instructed  in  the  designs  of  the  Department  and  with  the  pur- 
poses of  the  Administration  so  far  as  they  related  to  California. 

Mr.  George  Ticknor  Curtis,  in  his  memoir  of  Mr.  Buchanan,  gives,  in 
Chapters  21  and  22,  Volume  i,  a  compact  and  clear  view  of  English  policy 
towards  the  ITniied    States  at    this  time,     lie  says  :    "  hi   the  meantime, 


lit 


liii 


m 


\  i    M 


li  .  I: 


1:1    Iv 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


4, 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


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12.5 
2.2 

2.0 


M.  Ill  1.6 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  j-  .'iEET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  873-4503 


"^ 


t/^ 


r 


558 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


Mr.  Buchanan  had  not  only  to  manage  the  relations  between  the  United 
States  and  Mexico,  under  circumstances  of  great  delicacy,  with  firmness 
as  well  as  conciliation,  but  also  to  keep  a  watchful  eye  upon  the  course  of 
England  and  France  in  reference  to  this  measure.  It  must  be  remembered 
that  Mr.  Buchanan  had  succeeded,  as  Secretary  of  State,  to  the  manas^c- 
ment  of  the  Oregon  question  with  England,  as  well  as  to  the  completion  of 
the  arrangements  for  annexing  Texas  to  the  United  States.  He  was  in- 
formed, both  privatel}'  and  officially,  by  the  Ministers  of  the  United  States 
at  London  and  Paris,  of  the  danger  of  an  intervention  by  England  and 
France  in  the  affairs  of  Mexico.     ... 


THE    PRESIDENT    TO    MR.    BUCHANAN. 

Washington  City,  August  7,  1845. 

Mv  Dkar  Sir  :  I  enclose  you  a  letter  from  Mr.  Bancroft,  and  will  add,  to  what  he  has  said, 
that  the  information  from  Mexico  comes  in  so  authentic  a  shape  as  to  entitle  it  to  entire 
credit.    .    .     . 

You  may  consider  me  impatient  on  this  subject.  I  do  not  consider  that  I  am  so,  but  still  I 
have  a  great  desire  that  what  is  contemplated  should  be  done  as  soon  as  it  may  suit  your  con- 
venience. I  have  felt  great  reluctance  in  saying  this  much,  because  I  desired  not  to  interfere 
with  your  arrangements  during  the  short  recreation  which  you  have  taken  from  your  arduous 
labors. 

I  am,  very  faithfully  and  truly,  your  friend,  James  K.  Polk. 

P.S. — If  you  determine  to  anticipate  the  period  of  your  return  to  Washington,  you  will  see 
the  propriety  of  leaving  Bedford  in  a  way  to  produce  no  public  sensation  as  to  the  cause  of 
your  departur;-  That  it  may  not  be  known  that  you  leave  on  receiving  a  letter  from  me,  I  will 
not  place  my  frank  on  this  letter. 

Yours,  etc.,  J.  K.  P. 

The  letter  of  Mr.  Bancroft,  enclosed  by  the  President  to  Mr.  Buchanan, 
and  in  which  he  asks  his  immediate  return  to  Washington,  has  been 
already  given.  From  exceptional  sources  of  information  in  the  City  of 
Mexico  Baron  Gerolt  gave  the  same  warning  concerning  the  danger  of 
intervention  by  European  powers  of  which  Mr.  Buchanan  was  informed, 
both  "privately  and  officially,"  by  our  Ministers  at  London  and  Paris. 


"In  1845,  when  the  war  between  the  United  States  and  Mexico  was 
impending,  there  was  reason  to  believe  that  England  was  aiming  to  obtain 
a  footing  in  the  then  Mexican  province  of  California,  by  an  extensive 
system  of  colonization.  Acting  under  Mr.  Buchanan's  advice,  President 
Polk,  in  his  first  annual  message  of  December  2,  1H45,  not  only  reasserted 
the  Monroe  doctrine  in  general  terms,  but  distinctly  declared  that  no  future 
European  colony  or  dominion  shall,  with  the  consent  of  the  United  States, 
be  planted  or  established  on  any  part  of  the  American  continent.  This 
declaration  was  confined  to  North  America,  in  order  to  make  it  emphati- 
cally applicable  to  California. 


IT. 


THIRD  EXPEDITION.— WHAT  GOVERNOR  PICKENS  SAYS. 


559 


I  the  United 
nth  firmness 
he  eourse  of 
remembered 
the  manage- 
coinpletion  of 
He  was  in- 
United  States 
England  and 


tugust  7,  1845. 
what  he  has  said, 
intitle  it  to  entire 

I  am  so,  but  still  I 
nay  suit  your  con- 
;d  not  to  interfere 
[rem  your  arduous 

.MES  K.  Polk. 

ington,  you  will  see 
as  to  the  cause  of 
tier  from  me,  1  will 

J.  K.  P. 

Mr.  Buchanan, 
o-ton,  has  been 
in  the  City  of 
the  danger  of 
was  informed, 
and  Paris. 

id  Mexico  was 
kming  to  obtain 
an    extensive 
Ivice,  President 
1  only  reasserted 
that  no  future 
United  States. 
lontinent.     This 
lake  it  emphati- 


July  5,  1846. 
What  are  you  going  to  do  with  the  Mexican  War  ?    I  hope  there  will  be  no  treaty  without 
the  acquisition  of  California.     The  loss  of  California  tc  Mexico  will  be  nothing,  as  it  will  aid  in 
consolidating  her  Government,  and  finally  strengthen  it,  while  its  acquisition  will  be  immense 
to  us.     .     .     . 

If  we  had  California,  with  its  vast  harbors,  in  the  next  fifty  years  we  could  control  the  com- 
merce of  the  Pacific  and  the  wealth  of  China  and  India,  and  the  future  dwSiiny  of  our  glorious 
Republic  would  be  to  accumulate  as  vast  wealth  and  power  on  the  Pacific  as  we  have  on  the 
Atlantic.  Some  people  seem  to  have  very  tender  consciences  of  late  as  to  conquests.  I  should 
like  to  know  if  half  the  earth  is  not  now  owned  by  the  rights  of  conquests .' 

F.  W.  Pickens.* 

Edgewood,  S.  C. 

What  Governor  Pickens  says  here  is  in  the  philosophy  of  history.  From 
the  brother  of  Esau  down  to  Bismarck  the  story  is  the  same  of  the  acqui- 
sition of  lands.  It  is  an  inherent  desire  ;  and,  whether  by  arts  of  diplo- 
macy or  by  the  strong  hand,  makes  a  continuous  chain  in  the  world's  story. 

Upon  current  knowledge  it  was  believed  by  the  men  concerned  in 
watching  over  the  interests  of  the  country  that  England,  having  failed  in 
Oregon,  was  intending  to  gain  a  foothold  in  California.  A  year  later,  after 
the  experience  of  California,  Mr.  Buchanan,  in  the  instructions  prepared  for 
the  Charge  to  Guatemala,  Mr.  Hise,  speaking  of  England's  "  encroach- 
ments," says:  "  Her  object  in  this  acquisition  is  evident  from  the  policy 
which  she  has  uniformly  pursued  throughout  her  past  history — of  seizing 
upon  every  valuable  point  throughout  the  world,  wherever  circumstances 
have  placed  this  in  her  power."  f 

But  upon  Mr.  Bancroft's  distinctly  military  plans  Mr.  Buchanan  now 
intervened.  His  desire  to  avert  war  led  him  to  send  the  SHdell  mission 
with  its  offer  to  purchase  California.  In  the  angry  condition  of  the  politi- 
eal  atmosphere  this  mission  resulted  only  in  the  affront  from  Mexico  of 
refusing  to  receive  our  Minister.  In  the  same  clinging  to  peace  when 
events  showed  that  the  time  for  peace  was  past,  the  State  Department 
ordered  its  Consul  in  California  to  make  a  tentative  effort  to  induce  Cal- 
ifornia to  offer  herself  to  us.  The  object  proposed  to  be  accomplished  by 
this  eleventh-hour  effort  was,  to  conciliate  the  people  of  California  in  favor 
of  the  United  States,  so  as  to  induce  them  to  ask  its  protection  against 
Mexico.  But  the  rapid  progress  of  affairs  had  already  rendered  this  inap- 
plicable; there  was  no  time  for  such  an  experiment — no  time  now  left  for  a 
gradual  acquisition  of  California.  It  only  remained  to  carry  out  the  ulti- 
mate purpose  of  the  Government. 

Had  there  lived  in  California  such  a  man  as  Magoffin  was  in  Santa  Fe, 
with  his  will  and  intelligence,  his  wealth,  and  long  close  relations  with  lead- 
ing men,  the  successful  experiment  made  by  him  soon  after  in  New  Mexico 
might  have  been  equally  successful  in  California. 

*  Afterwards  Governor  of  South  Carolina  under  the  first  period  of  Secesalon. 
t  Curtis'  Memoir  of  Mr.  Buchanan. 


i      i;.. 


mi:' 


T 


560 


MEMOIJiS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


California  was  already  semi-independent,  setting  aside  the  authority  of 
the  home  Government  when  it  suited  its  ch'efs  to  do  so.  Among  its  lead- 
ing men — leaders,  because  of  large  property  and  strong  personal  force- 
were  some  who  had  also  within  themselves  ideas  and  influences  resulti'itj 
from  their  foreign  education,  and  which  made  them  feel  disapprobation  and 
resentment  against  the  capricious  and  inadequate  policy  pursued  toward 
California  by  the  home  Government.  Had  these  leading  men  decided  upon 
a  separation  from  Mexico,  with  the  aid  of  the  immigrants  already  in  the 
country,  a  strength  might  readily  have  been  drawn  together  sufiicient  to 
render  abortive  any  attempt  from  Mexico  to  reclaim  it  wlien  the  time  came 
to  declare  independence.  The  certain  immigration  that  would  have  taken 
place  would  have  made  a  background  of  constantly  increasing  strength. 

When  Commodore  Sloat  arrived  at  Monterey,  affairs  had  reached  a 
culminating  point.  England  had  then  just  failed  in  Oregon.  California 
remained  open  to  her.  Mexico,  resolved  on  war,  had  determined  that  for- 
eign powers  also  should  settle  the  terms  of  its  close.  In  this  intervention 
England  would  have  had  the  first  voice. 

California  could  be  made  an  English  colony  and  the  debts  of  Mexico 
paid  through  that  outlying  province.  The  intended  colonization  is  proved. 
So  much  of  the  history  of  the  day  as  can  be  gleaned  from  London,  Paris, 
and  Mexico,  and  California,  goes  to  show  the  intention  of  England  to 
occupy  that  ten  iiory. 

At  the  critical  moment,  when  the  squadrons  of  the  two  nations  were 
watching  each  other,  when  the  moment  had  arrived  which  would  force  Cal- 
ifornia into  the  arms  of  the  boldest,  Mr.  Buchanan  sends  to  his  consul  at 
Montc-ey  the  despatch  which  had  no  place  in  the  occurring  events,  but 
which  mfluenced  the  American  Commander  to  pause  in  the  execution  of 
his  strict  orders,  making  a  delay  that  left  the  field  broadly  open  to  Eng- 
land ;  and  brought  upon  himself  a  severe  reprimand,  and  which  might  have 
cost  him  his  commission.  Had  those  two,  the  Commodore  and  the  Consul. 
been  the  only  two  men  acting  for  the  United  States  a  page  in  our  history 
would  have  been  left  open  for  a  story  to  be  written  upon  it  very  different 
from  that  which  we  read  there  to-day. 

A  few  words  may  here  well  be  used  to  show  how  sometimes  the  turn 
given  to  great  events  is  narrowed  down  at  the  decisive  moments. 

At  this  time,  as  the  shifting  uncertainties  settled  into  the  realities  of  war, 
it  chanced  that  four  men  had  been  drawn  into  such  positions  that  the  result 
for  California  was  centred  in  them.  All  power  to  this  end  on  land  and  sea 
was  in  the  will  of  Mr.  Bancroft.  His  executive  officer  was  Commodore 
Sloat,  and  upon  him  the  Secretary  mainly  depended  for  the  carrying  out  of 
his  plans.  There  being  no  land  force  available,  Mr.  Bancroft  sent  Mr. 
Gillespie  to  me.     He  reached  me  after  a  land  journey  from  ^lontcrcy  of 


iT. 


I  lllRD  EXPEDrnOX.—hXTERESTING  SPECULA  TIONS. 


561 


authority  of 
ong  its  lead- 
onal  force — 
:es  resulti'iti 
robation  and 
sued  toward 
decided  upon 
.Iready  in  tlie 

sufficient  to 
he  time  came 
d  have  taken 

strength. 
ad  reached  a 
n.     CaHfornia 
ined  that  for- 
s  intervention 

bts  of  Mexico 
tion  is  proved. 
London,  Paris, 
)f    England  to 

)  nations  were 
)uld  force  Cal- 

his  consul  at 
ig  events,  but 
e  execution  of 

open  to  Eng- 
Ich  might  have 

id  the  Consul. 

in  our  history 

^•ery  different 

limes  the  turn 
bnts. 

jalities  of  war, 

Ithat  the  result 

land  and  sea 

Commodore 

larrying  out  of 

Iroft  sent  M'"' 

Monterey  of 


more  than  six  hundred  miles,  the  greater  part  of  which  was  through  the 
country  of  the  Modocs  and  Tlamaths,  the  most  daring  and  savage  Indians 
of  the  continent.  Had  he  been  killed  on  that  journey — as  it  nearly  chanced 
— the  communications  which  he  bore  for  me  from  the  President,  the  Secre- 
tary of  the  Navy,  and  Senator  Benton  would  not  have  reached  me. 

And  on  the  night  when  1  found  him  on  the  lake  shore  and  the 
Tlamaths  attacked  us,  the  chance  was  even  that  I  might  have  been  killed — 
or  both  of  us — instead  of  Basil  and  the  Delaware.  There  would  then  have 
been  no  act  of  mine  in  northern  California  to  furnish  Commodore  Sloat  his 
reason  for  raising  the  flag  at  Montere}-. 

I  write  here  only  of  such  scenes  and  incidents  as  had  connection  with 
the  current  of  my  own  life,  and  which  were  chiefly  directed  by  me  ;  which 
occupied  my  mind  at  the  time  and  so  stand  out  prominent  in  my  memory 
now  ;  holding  so  far  as  possible  to  my  own  path  among  the  events  of  the 
time,  and  dwelling  only  upon  those  which  had  for  myself  some  personal 
interest. 

Renouncing  my  independent  position  by  taking  service  under  Commo- 
dore Stockton,  I  was  no  longer  burdened  with  responsibilities  ;  but  also  I 
had  no  longer  that  initiative  in  which  there  is  alway's  the  necessity  for  the 
thought  and  resource  that  in  difficult  situations  gives  the  highest  pleasure 
and  rouses  the  mind  into  the  highest  excitement,  while  it  calls  for  the 
exercise  of  its  best  powers. 

The  plan  of  campaign  on  which  I  had  been  acting  was  very  different 
from  that  which  Commodore  Stockton  had  conceived  Under  the  plan  of 
operations  which  I  had  proposed  to  myself  I  had  intended  to  travel  down 
the  coast  road  through  that  part  of  the  countrj'  which  was  occupied  by 
towns  and  ranchos  ;  drawing  into  my  force,  or  into  my  support,  the 
foreigners  already  settled  in  the  country  and  the  incoming  emigrants  from 
Oregon  and  our  West  ;  meantime  getting  into  communication  with  the 
Californians  on  their  ranchos,  pay'ing,  or  arranging  to  pay,  for  what  supplies 
we  needed  from  them  ;  and  "  conciliating  "  the  rancheros  in  favor  of  the 
new  order  of  things,  not  by  promises  but  by  acts  which  would  give  assur- 
ance of  friendly  intentions.  In  this  way  I  was  satisfied  I  could  keep  open 
my  communication  with  the  Sacramento  valley,  through  a  country  that 
would  be  not  ill-disposed,  but  of  necessity  friendly.  It  had  been  arranged 
with  Captain  Montgomery  that  he  would  meet  me  at  Santa  Barbara  with 
the  Portsmouth.  Looking  back  over  events,  it  is  clear  they  would  ha\e 
justified  this  plan  by  complete  success,  had  Commodore  Sloat  not  arrived. 
The  news  of  the  battles  on  the  Rio  Grande  would  have  authorized  us  to 
raise  the  flag  at  Santa  Barbara.  Now  with  Commodore  Stockton  the 
same  plan  of  campaign  would  have  brought  me  to  Los  Angeles  at  the  head 
of  a  strong  and  efficient,  and  constantly  increasing  force,  well  mounted  and 


562 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JO HX  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


supplied,  with  a  pacitied  country  behind  mc  and  the  coast  towns  garrisoned 
by  the  tieet.     And  again  this  was  proved  by  subsequent  events. 

Landing  on  the  coast  in  the  country  of  an  enemy  who  could  easily  sweep 
out  of  reach  horses  and  cattle  was  not  the  way  to  intercept  a  leader  at  the 
head  of  a  well-mounted  body  of  cavalry,  operating  among  his  own  friends 
and  people,  and  familiar  with  every  pass  and  trail. 

We  were  ready  to  embark.  My  camp  was  always  in  a  state  of  readi- 
ness, and  it  needed  but  a  few  hours  to  prepare.  The  emigrants,  who  com- 
posed the  greater  part  of  my  force,  were  accustomed  to  the  use  of  arms, 
strong  men  seasoned  to  hardship,  roughened  to  field  life  by  the  exposure  of 
their  overland  journey,  and  full  of  the  courage  and  energy  which  brought 
them  to  make  it,  and  which  were  now  roused  into  a  generous  excitement  by 
the  call  made  upon  them  to  serve  their  country. 

The  men  of  my  exploring  party  had  been  trained  every  man  to  his  horse 
and  his  rifle,  until  the  use  of  both  had  become  an  instinct,  will  and  hand  and 
eye  going  together.  As  my  reader  by  this  time  knows,  if  he  has  had  the 
patience  to  go  with  me  in  the  preceding  journeys,  many  of  them  had  had  ex- 
perience of  uncommon  bodily  hardship  and  times  of  danger,  all  of  which 
they  had  gone  through  with  cheerful  obedience  and  splendid  resolution.  In 
the  sudden  emergencies  which  sometimes  came,  every  one  of  them  knew 
what  to  do  and  every  one  might  be  relied  on  to  do  it.  Living  an  uncon- 
trolled life,  ranging  prairies  and  mountains  subject  to  no  will  but  their  own, 
it  was  a  great  sacrifice  for  these  border  chiefs  to  lay  aside  their  habits  of 
independence  and  subordinate  their  knowledge  and  experience  to  the  con- 
trarieties of  discipline.     But  once  undertaken  they  did  it  thoroughly. 

Coming  back  one  day  from  the  State  Department,  where  the  urgent  busi- 
ness on  which  he  had  been  sent  had  been  met  by  fresh  delay,  Carson  said  : 
"  They  are  princes  here  in  their  big  houses,  but  out  on  the  plains  we  are  the 
princes.  What  would  their  lives  be  worth  without  us  there.''  "  And  when 
the  battalion  was  being  organized  and  they  were  told  by  me  that  Commo- 
dore Stockton  "  felt  authorized  to  pay  them  ten  dollars  a  month,"  they 
simpl}'  laughed  at  the  value  set  upon  their  services,  but  said  they  would 
give  them,  all  the  same,  and  leave  it  to  the  Government  to  pay  what  it  could 
afford. 

We  were  now  about  to  change  from  the  nature  of  the  work  in  which  we 
had  been  engaged  together.  And  in  parting  from  that  I  gratify  myself  and 
do  some  justice  to  them  by  recording  the  fidelity  and  courage  with  which 
they  had  done  their  part. 

The  appearance  of  the  men  when  we  entered  Monterey  merited  the  en- 
comiums given  them  by  the  American  and  the  English  officers.  Lieutenants 
Minor  and  Walpole.  The  only  trace  of  uniform  worn  by  them  were  sailor 
shirts  of  blue  or  white,  with  low  falling  collars  of  the  contrasting  color,  bear- 


EMBARK  ON  "  CYANE"  FOR  SAN  DIEGO. 


563 


ing  a  star  in  the  broad  points.  These,  through  the  kindness  of  Captain 
Montgomer}',  \  had  obtained  for  some  of  the  men  from  the  Portsmouth's 
stores  to  siipr^y  the  damage  from  the  wear  and  tear  of  travel.  Except  the 
tall  man  in  buckskins  of  whom  Mr.  Walpole  speaks,  few  or  none  wore  such 
clothes,  lie  was  probably  a  new-comer  and  not  a  Western-frontier  man. 
Many  jears  before,  when  solitary  trappers  spent  their  hardy  lives  in  remote 
mountain  districts  where  all  the  necessaries,  or  if  it  is  better  to  call  them  so, 
the  lu.xuries,  of  life  were  difficult  to  procure,  they  wore  buckskin  clothes 
made  from  the  skins  which  they  dressed  themsehes  or  traded  from  the  In- 
dians. But  that  was  long  ago.  In  later  years,  when  trading  posts  were  es- 
tablished within  easier  reach,  cloth,  which  was  warmer  for  the  winter,  and 
lighter  stuffs  for  the  summer,  were  always  worn  by  hunters  and  trappers. 
"  Bill  Williams  "  even,  whom  I  had  with  me  as  guide  for  a  time  and  who 
had  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  life  and  until  he  had  become  an  old 
man  trapping  alone  among  the  mountains,  never  wore  buckskin;  and  he 
was  the  most  careless  and  slovenly  of  all  the  mountain  men.  Of  course, 
as  these  men  are  exposed  to  all  weathers,  their  clothes  are  frequently  wet, 
and  buckskin  shrinks  and  dries  very  hard.  A  buckskin  dress  in  these 
(lays,  so  far  as  my  knowledge  goes,  is  worn  only  by  amateurs  or  in  order 
to  produce  some  scenic  effect;  a  pair  of  leggings,  perhaps,  but  nothing 
more  in  the  country  where  the  real  work  is  done  or  the  real  hunter  lives. 


m 


On   the  25th  of  July  we  embarked  on  the  Cyane.     My  men  were  all 

greatly  pleased  at  the  novelty  of   a   voyage  in  a  man-of-war,  which  they 

anticipated  would  be  very  pleasant  now  when  the  regular  northwest  wind 

belonging  to  the  season  was  blowing,  and  there  was  no  prospect  of  storms. 

But  like  many  prospective  enjoyments  this  one  proved  to  be  all  in  the 

anticipation.     By  the  time  we  had  been  a   few  hours  at  sea  we  were  all 

very  low  in  our  minds;  and  there  was  none  of  the  expected  enjoymenf  in 

the  sparkling  waves  and  the  refreshing  breeze,  and  the  sail  along  the  mours- 

tainous  shore  as  the  ship  rolled  her  waj-  down   the  coast.     Carson  was 

among  those  who  were  badly  worsted  by  this  enemy  to   landsmen,  and 

many  were  the  vows  made  to  the  winds  that  never  again  would  they  put 

trust  in  the  fair-weather  promises  of  the  ocean.     But  all  was  forgotten 

when  at  the  end  of  three  days  the  ship  entered  the  land-locked  ba}'  of  San 

Diego,  where  the  still  waters  reflected  the  quiet  of  the  town.     Here  no 

enemy  was  found.     On  the  contrary,  we  were  received  on  the   footing  of 

friends  by  Don  Juan  Bandini,  the  chief  citizen  of  the  place,  and  by  Don 

Santiago  Arguello,  the  Captain  of  the  Port. 

Seflor  Bandini  was  a  native  of  Spain ;  of  slight  and  thin  person,  sarcastic 
and  cynical  of  speech,  often  the  shape  in  which  a  keen  intelligence,  morbid 


.  i  M 


5^4 


MEMOIRS  or  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


because  without  outlet,  expresses  itself.  lie  realized  for  himself  and  his 
interesting  family  the  isolation  to  which  the  slumber  of  this  remote  place 
condemned  them.  lie  knew  that  from  our  regular  force  no  acts  of  violence 
would  take  place,  and  li.at  we  owed  it  to  oursches  to  prevent  disturbances 
and  maintain  good  order.  And  he  was  glad  of  the  relief  from  the  monot- 
ony of  the  place,  and  so,  immediately,  a  friendly  intercourse  was  established, 
which  was  aidful  to  us.  One  of  Don  Juan's  daughters  was  married  to  Don 
Ab'.'l  Stearns,  whose  residence  was  at  Los  Angeles,  the  seat  of  the  Govern- 
ors-General of  California,  and  distant  about  a  hundred  and  forty  miles  from 
San  Diego.  In  sounding  the  chief  men  of  the  South  concerning  the  mooted 
change  in  the  sovereignty  of  the  Department,  Don  Abel  would  naturallv 
have  conferred  with  him  as  the  most  influential  personage,  in  whom  also  he 
could  have  the  fullest  confidence.  From  himself  and  his  family  I  received 
the  social  attentions  and  kindly  aid  which,  in  our  condition,  was  not  only 
very  agreeable  but  extremely  valuable.  We  were  entirely  ignorant  of  the 
surrounding  country,  and  consequent!}',  where  best  and  most  quickly  to 
obtain  horses  to  mount  my  command,  and  beef  cattle  for  its  subsistence. 
These  were  the  first  necessity,  but  very  difficult  to  procure.  The  large 
ranchos  in  this  part  of  Southern  California  were  few  and  distant;  there 
were  not  enough  horses  at  hand  to  mount  a  party  to  send  after  animals  to 
distant  places  through  an  enemy's  country.  In  the  midst  of  these  difficul- 
ties, the  aid  which  Bandini  and  Arguello  were  willing  to  give  was  most 
fortunate. 

Exploring  for  horses,  we  became  well  acquainted  with  the  general 
character  of  this  district.  Every  farm  or  rancho  had  its  own  spring  or  run- 
ning stream  sufficient  for  the  supply  of  stock,  which  hitherto  had  made  the 
chief  object  of  industry  in  California.  In  this  neighborhood  there  are  places 
of  extraordinar}'  fertility.  Cultivation  has  always  been  by  irrigation,  and 
the  soil  seems  to  require  onl}*  water  to  produce  vigorously.  Among  the 
arid,  brush-covered  hills  south  of  San  Diego  we  found  little  valle\s  con- 
verted by  a  single  spring  into  crowded  gardens,  where  pears,  peaches, 
quinces,  pomegranates,  grapes,  olives,  and  other  fruits  grew  luxuriantly 
together,  the  little  stream  acJng  upon  them  like  a  principle  of  life.  This 
southern  frontier  of  Upper  California  seems  eminently  adapted  to  the  culti- 
vation of  the  vine  and  the  olive.  A  single  vine  has  been  known  to  yield  ;i 
barrel  of  wine,  and  the  olive  trees  are  burdened  with  the  weight  of  fruit. 

While  we  remained  between  San  Diego  and  Los  Angeles  during  this 
month,  the  days  were  bright  and  hot,  the  sky  pure  and  entirely  cloudless. 
and  the  nights  cool  and  beautifully  serene.  In  this  month  fruits  generally 
ripen — melons,  pears,  peaches,  prickly-fig  {cactus-tuna)^  and  others  of  like 
kind — and  large  bunches  of  ripe  grapes  are  scattered  numerously  throujjh 
the  vineyards,  but  do  not  reach  maturity  until   in  September.     After  the 


THIRD  EXPEDITION.— ON  ROAD  TO  LOS  ANGELES. 


565 


vintage,  grapes  are  hung  up  iii  the  houses  and  so  kept  for  use  during  the 
winter.  On  one  of  these  excursions  we  came  upon  a  pretty  spot  where  the 
noon-day  heat  enticed  us  into  making  a  halt.  It  was  in  garden  grounds, 
not  far  from  the  liouse  of  the  rancho,  where  the  water  from  a  httle  stream 
was  collected  in  a  basin  about  fifteen  feet  across,  around  which  ran  a  low, 
cement-covered  wall.  Fruit  trees,  among  them  pomegranates,  hung  over 
the  basin,  making  a  cool,  pleasant  place  with  the  water  and  shade.  With  a 
portion  of  lamb,  which  we  got  at  the  hor-e  and  cooked  ourselves,  we  had 
a  hearty  luncheon  after  our  own  fashion,  with  appetites  the  better  for  their 
late  interruption  by  the  sea. 

The  forced  delay  at  an  end,  after  little  more  than  a  week  occupied  in 
this  way  with  the  aid  of  Don  Juan,  the  sufficient  number  of  animals  were 
obtained  to  enable  me  to  move,  and  on  the  eighth  of  the  month  we  mo\ed 
out  on  the  road  to  Los  Angeles.  The  marines  and  about  fifty  of  m}'  men 
were  left  in  garrison  under  Lieutenant  Minor  at  the  port. 

If  little  gifts  nourish  friendship  a  timely  one  lays  a  good  foundation  for 
it,  because  it  shows  a  really  kind  intent  behind.  Just  before  leaving  the 
town  an  uucommonly  beautiful  sorrel  horse,  thoroughly  trained,  was 
brought  me  from  Seflor  Bandini.  It  had  been  brought  up  to  hand  in  the 
family ,was  accustomed  to  take  a  sup  of  coffee  and  eat  sugar  and  other  horse 
delicacies;  and  when  brought  to  me  its  tail  and  mane  were  plaited  and  tied 
with  green  ribbons.     It  was  a  gift  from  the  family. 

From  this  time  forward  I  felt  safe  in  relying  upon  the  influence  of  Don 
Juan  and  Don  Santiago  to  support  us  in  the  endeavor  to  obtain  quiet  posses- 
sion of  the  territory,  while  disturbing  the  people  as  little  as  possible  in  their 
customary  pursuits,  and  giving  them  no  unnecessary  alarm  by  our  presence. 
And  in  this  reliance  upon  his  co-operation  to  this  end  I  authorized  Bandini 
to  extend  this  assurance  as  far  as  practicable  among  the  Californians. 
Coming  from  him  and  Arguello  these  assurances  would  go  far  to  alia}-  the 
natural  excitement  created  by  our  invasion.  In  this  way  I  acted  upon  the 
instructions  sent  me  to  "  conciliate  the  people." 

The  march  to  Los  Angeles  was  a  pleasant  one.  Necessar}'  food  was 
always  to  be  had,  the  fine  beef  of  the  country  being  equal  to  game;  good 
water  was  frequent,  and  the  animals  we  rode  were  accustomed  to  the 
grasses  of  the  country,  their  usual  feed,  good  throughout  the  year;  and  they 
knew  how  to  provide  for  themselves.  This  was  the  dry  season  when  there 
was  no  rain,  but  the  face  of  this  country  is  always  beautiful.  Its  great  fer- 
tility forces  itself  on  the  attention,  and  at  the  ranchos  there  were  the  grain 
fields  and  the  green  of  the  vineyards  with  the  cluster  of  ripening  grapes. 
With  the  aid  of  my  friends  at  San  Diego  I  had  felt  the  country  well  up 
towards  Los  Angeles,  and  had  ascertained  that  General  Castro  was  encamped 
at  the  mesa  near  the  city  with  a  force  of  about  five  hundred  men  and  ten 


I       ' 


mi 


■M 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE-JOIIX  CHARLES  EREMO.XT. 


pieces  of  artilk'iy.  Commodore  Stockton  had  informed  me  of  his  hindin<r  iU 
San  I'edro  witli  a  force  of  three  hundred  and  sixty  men  and  several  pieces 
of  artillery,  and  that  he  \vould  move  about  the  loth  on  Los  An^felc>.  c\- 
pectin<;  me  to  join  him  upon  his  march,  which  was  about  twcnty-ei<,'ht  miles. 
On  my  own  road  I  was  in  constant  expectation  of  an  attack  from  General 
Castro.  Having  but  one  hundreil  and  twenty  men  I  naturally  suppose.! 
that  he  would  endea\or  to  intercept  my  march  before  I  could  effecf  a  junc- 
tion with  Stockton.  But  with  the  exception  of  scattered  horsemen  occa- 
sionally seen,  and  disappearing  as  quickly,  there  was  no  demonstration  of 
any  kind,  and  on  the  13th  I  joined  Commodore  Stockton  outside  of  the  citv. 

In  tlie  afternoon  the  combined  force  entered  Los  Angleles  without 
opposition,  our  entry  having  more  the  effect  of  a  parade  of  home  guards 
than  of  an  enemy  taking  possession  of  a  conquered  town. 

General  Castro  in  the  meantime  had  broken  up  his  camp  on  the  mesa, 
buried  part  of  his  guns,  and  liis  force  had  dispersed  over  the  countr\  : 
himself,  as  reported,  finding  temporary  refuge  in  the  mountain  which  ox  er- 
looks  the  San  Gabriel  plain.  Detachments  from  my  command  were  sent 
out  to  scour  the  country  and  to  capture  and  bring  into  Los  Angeles  an\  of 
his  officers  who  might  be  still  within  reach,  together  with  any  of  the  lead- 
ing citizens  who  under  the  alarm  of  unfounded  rumors  had  fled  from  their 
homes.  A  number  were  made  prisoners  and  others  surrendered;  all  of 
whom  were  either  released  on  parole  or  set  at  liberty  after  being  notified 
that  they  would  be  required  to  comply  with  the  necessary  police  regula- 
tions, and  expected  to  aid  in  the  preservation  of  order.  Before  our  occupa- 
tion of  the  city,  the  governor,  Don  Pio  Pico,  had  retired  to  one  of  his 
estates,  lying  near  the  coast  about  forty  miles  to  the  southward  of  Los 
Angeles. 

I  wrote  to  him,  assuring  him  of  protection  to  his  person  and  property, 
and  inviting  him  to  return  to  the  city.  I  knew  afterwards  that  he  thor- 
oughly appreciated  my  sincere  desire  to  save  himself  from  annoyance  and 
his  affairs  from  derangement,  and  to  publicly  show  my  respect  for  him 
and  his  official  position  ;  and  although  he  did  not  then  decide  to  return,  my 
action  led  to  the  most  friendly  relations  with  his  brother,  Don  Andres  Pico. 

On  the  1 7th  Commodore  Stockton  issued  a  proclamation  for  the  inf<n- 
mation  and  government  of  the  people.  There  seemed  to  him  no  apparent 
reason  why  the  conquest  thus  easily  made  should  not  become  permanent. 
as  the  acquiescent  condition  of  the  people  seemed  to  indicate  that  it  would. 
So  considering  it,  and  treating  California  as  already  a  territorial  possession 
of  the  United  States,  he  occupied  himself  immediately  in  organizing  a  civil 
government  and  formulating  such  regulations  as,  in  his  opinion,  would  best 
tend  to  preserve  order  and  guard  against  any  attempt  at  surprises  from  the 
Californians. 


THIRD  EXPEDiriON.— CASTRO  DISPERSES  HIS  EORCR. 


h^l 


His  reason  for  speedy  action  was  his  desire  to  jj;o  at  once  himself  to  the 
southern  coast  of  Mexico.  In  his  arranj^enients  for  tlie  more  convenient 
trovernment  of  the  Territory,  he  divided  it  into  three  districts,  and  on  the 
24th  of  Aujxiist,  in  anticipation  of  his  speedy  return  to  the  sea,  he  completed 
them  b}"  appointing  me  Military  Governor  of  the  Territory  and  (iillespic 
Commandant  of  the  Southern  District,  with  headquarters  at  Los  Anj^eles, 
and  a  garrison  from  the  battalion  of  fifty  men.  Notwithstanding  tiie  ex- 
istence of  martial  law,  the  civil  officers  of  the  country  were  permitted  to 
proceed  with  the  usual  exercise  of  their  functions,  and  were  not  to  be  inter- 
fered with,  except  in  cases  where  the  peace  and  safety  of  the  district  re- 
quired aid  or  interference  from  the  military  authority. 

In  his  letter  to  me  he  says  :  '*  I  propose,  before  I  leave  the  Territory,  to 
appoint  you  to  be  governor,  and  Captain  Gillespie  to  be  secretary;  and  to 
appoint  also  the  Council  of  State,  and  all  the  necessary  officers.  You  will, 
therefore,  proceed  to  do  all  you  can  to  further  my  views  and  intentions  thus 
frankly  manifested.  Supposing  that  by  the  25th  of  October  you  will  have 
accomplished  your  part  of  these  preparations,  I  will  meet  jou  at  San  Fran- 
cisco on  that  day,  and  place  you  as  Governor  of  California." 

A  copy  of  this  letter  with  a  copy  of  all  the  rest  of  the  acts  of  Commo- 
dore Stockton  up  to  the  28th  of  August,  as  governor  and  commander-in- 
chief  in  California,  were  sent  now  to  Mr.  Bancroft.  To  insure  the  safety  and 
speedy  delivery  of  these  important  papers,  and  as  a  reward  for  brave  and 
valuable  service  on  man}*  occasions,  we  decided  to  make  Carson  the  bearer 
of  these  despatches,  which  announced  to  the  Government  that  its  orders  con- 
cerning California  had  been  successfully  carried  out.  And  I  was  pleased  to 
procure  for  Carson  any  occasion  where  he  would  meet  with  the  personal  rcc- 
nirnition  which  he  had  earned  by  good  ser\ice.  He  was  to  go  direct  to 
Senator  Benton  at  Washington,  who  would  personally  introduce  him  to  the 
President  and  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  and  to  whom  he  could  give  in  fulness 
the  incidental  detail  always  so  much  more  interesting  than  the  restricted  offi- 
cial report. 

On  the  way  he  would  see  his  family  at  Taos,  New  Mexico,  through 
which  lay  his  shortest  road  to  the  frontier.  It  was  a  service  of  high 
trust  and  honor,  but  of  great  danger  also.  The  shortest  way  led  through 
Mexican  territory  and  through  the  dangerous  Indians  we  have  already  de- 
scribed along  the  Spanish  trail.  He  went  off,  charged  with  personal  mes- 
sages and  personal  feelings,  and  I  looked  to  his  arrival  at  home  and  the  deep 
interest  and  pleasin-e  he  would  bring  to  them  there,  almost  with  the  pleas- 
ure I  should  feel  in  getting  there  myself — it  was  touching  home.  Going  off 
« the  head  of  his  own  party  with  carte  blanche  for  expenses  and  the  pros- 
pect of  novel  pleasure  and  honor  at  the  end  was  a  culminating  point  in  Car- 
>on's  life. 


i'1 


1  ■' 


568 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FR&MONT. 


He  had  been  so  part  of  all  my  life  for  eighteen  months  that  my  let- 
ters were  chietl)-  indications  of  points  which  he  would  tell  them  at  home  in 
fulness. 

Tile  despatches  reached  Washington  safely;  but  by  another  hand. 

The  ciiicf  points  they  contained  concerning  California  affairs  were  em- 
bodied in  the  message  of  the  President  and  the  reports  of  the  Secretaries 
of  War  and  of  the  Navy.  When  the  courier  reached  Washington,  Mr. 
Bancroft  was  no  longer  in  the  Cabinet,  but  was  already  at  sea  on  his  way 
to  England,  having  been  appointed  Minister  from  the  United  States. 

KXIRACr    FROM    IHF.   PRKSIDKN 1 's   ANNUAL   MKSSAOK.,    DKCF.MBER,    1846. 

Our  squadron  in  tlie  Pacific,  with  the  co-operation  of  a  gallant  officer  of  the  army,  and  a 
.small  force  hastily  collected  in  that  distant  country,  have  acquired  bloodless  possession  of  the 
C'alifornias,  and  the  American  flag  has  been  raised  at  every  important  point  in  that  p.ovince.  I 
congratulate  you  on  the  success  which  has  thus  attended  our  military  and  naval  operations.  In 
less  than  seven  months  after  Mexico  commenced  hostilities,  at  a  time  selected  by  herstH.  we 
have  taken  possession  of  many  of  her  principal  ports,  driven  back  and  pursued  her  invading 
army,  and  acquired  military  possession  of  the  Mexican  provinces  of  New  Mexico.  New  Leon, 
Coahuila.  Tamaulipas,  and  the  Californias,  a  territory  larger  in  extent  than  tluil  embraced  in  the 
original  thirteen  States  of  the  Union,  inhabited  by  a  considerable  population,  and  much  of  it 
more  than  a  thousand  miles  from  the  points  at  which  we  had  to  collect  our  forces  and  commence 
our  movements.  By  the  blockade,  the  import  and  the  export  trade  of  the  enemy  have  been  cut 
oflf.  Ry  the  law  of  nations  a  conquered  territory  is  subject  to  be  governed  by  the  conqueror 
during  his  military  possession,  and  until  there  is  either  a  treaty  of  peace,  or  he  shall  voluntarily 
withdraw  from  it.  The  old  civil  government  being  necessarily  superseded,  it  is  the  right  and 
duty  of  the  conqueror  to  secure  his  conquest,  and  to  provide  for  the  maintenance  of  civil  order 
and  the  rights  of  the  inhabitants.  This  right  has  been  exercised  and  this  duty  performed  by 
our  military  and  naval  commanders,  by  the  establishment  of  temporary'  governments  in  some  of 
the  conquered  provinces  in  Mexico,  assimilating  them,  as  far  as  practicable,  to  the  free  institu- 
tions of  our  own  country.  In  the  provinces  of  New  Mexico  and  of  the  Californias  little,  if  any, 
further  resistance  is  apprehended  from  the  inhabitants  to  the  temporary  governments  which 
have  thus,  from  the  necessity  of  the  case  and  according  to  the  laws  of  war,  been  established. 

It  may  be  proper  to  provide  for  the  security  of  these  important  conquests,  by  making  an 
adequate  appropriation  for  the  purpose  of  erecting  ortifications  and  defraying  the  expenses 
necessarily  incident  to  the  maintenance  of  our  poss     sion  and  authority  over  them. 

K.KTRACT    FROM  THK   REPORT   OF  THE  SFXRETARV   OF  WAR,   DECEMllER,    I846. 

Commodore  Stockton  took  possession  of  the  whole  country  as  a  conquest  of  the  United 
States,  and  appointed  Colonel  Fremont  governor,  under  the  law  of  nations,  to  assume  the  func- 
tions of  that  office  when  he  should  return  to  the  squadron. 


EXIRACT    FROM    1  HE   REPORT   OF  THE   SECRETARY   OF  THE   NAVY,    DECE.MBER,    1846. 

On  the  25th  of  July,  the  Cyane — Captain  Mervine — sailed  from  Monterey,  with  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Fremont  and  a  small  volunteer  force  on  board,  for  San  Diego,  to  intercept  the  retreat 
of  the  Mexican  General  Castro.  A  few  days  after,  Commodore  Stockton  sailed  in  the  Congress, 
frigate,  for  San  Pedro,  and,  with  a  detaciiment  from  his  squadron  of  three  hundred  and  sixty 
men,  marched  to  the  enemy's  camp.  It  was  found  ili-it  the  camp  was  broken  up,  and  that  the 
Mexicans,  under  Governor  Pico  and  General  Castro,  had  retreated  so  precipitately  that  Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel Fremont  was  disappointed  in  intercepting  him.  On  the  13th,  the  commodore 
was  joined  by  this  gallant  officer,  and  marched  a  distance  of  thirty  miles  from  the  sea,  and  en- 
tered without  opposition  the  Cindad  de  los  Angeles,  the  capital  of  the  Californias;  and,  on  the 


^ONT. 


!is  that  my  let- 
icni  at  home  in 

her  hand, 
iffairs  were  em- 
the  Secretaries 
Washington,  Mr. 
sea  on  his  way 
J  States. 

K,    1846. 

'  of  the  army,  and  a 
iS  possession  of  the 
in  that  piOvincc.  I 
ival  operations.  In 
Ected  by  herself,  we 
irsued  her  invading 

Mexico.  New  Leon, 
hut  embraced  in  the 
lion,  and  much  of  It 
Drees  and  commence 
nemy  have  been  cut 
:d  by  the  conqueror 
•  he  shall  voluntarily 

it  is  the  right  and 
enance  of  civil  order 
3  duty  performed  by 
ernments  in  some  of 
;,  to  the  free  institu- 
ifornias  little,  if  any, 

governments  which 
been  established, 
uests,  by  making  an 
raying  the  expenses 
;r  them. 


Vi."\ 


i:'      t\ 


MllER,    1846. 

quest  of  the  United 
to  assume  the  func- 


lECEMBER,    1846, 

rey,  with  Lieutenant- 
intercept  the  retreat 
ailed  in  the  Congress, 
i  hundred  and  sixty 
iken  up,  and  that  the 
;cipitately  that  Lieu- 
[  3th,  the  commodore 
rom  the  sea,  and  en- 
iifornias;  and,  on  the 


I 


CARSON  STAHTS  FOR   WASHIXGTON  WITH  DESPATCHES. 


569 


22d  of  August,  the  flag  of  the  United  States  was  flying  at  every  commanding  position,  and  Cal- 
ifornia was  in  the  undisputed  military  possession  of  the  United  States.  The  conduct  of  the 
officers  and  men  of  the  squadron  in  these  important  operations  has  been  characterized  by 
activity,  counige,  and  steady  discipline,  and  entitles  them  to  the  thanks  of  the  department. 
Efficient  aid  was  rendered  by  Lieutenant-Colonel  Fremont  and  the  volunteers  under  his  com- 
mand. In  his  hands,  Commodore  Stockton  informs  the  department,  he  will  leave  the  military 
government  when  he  shall  leave  California,  in  the  further  execution  of  his  orders. 

In  anticipating  to  insert  these  extracts  I  ha\e  made  a  long  detour  of 
some  two  thousand  miles  or  more  from  the  actual  scenes  and  places  of 
which  I  am  writing,  but  though  the  distance  is  long  the  connection  is  close, 
and  to  borrow  a  favorite  quotation  of  Mrs.  Fremont's,  from  Montaigne, 
"  yc  (livagiie  forf,  iiiais  fy  refoitnie.'''' 

I  lis  plans  having  been  all  fornmlated  and  piit  in  movement,  Commodore 
Stockton  was  ready  to  leave  by  the  end  of  the  month  on  his  voyage  north 
to  Santa  liarbara  and  San  Francisco  to  prepare  for  his  expedition  to  the 
southern  coast  of  Mexico.  In  furtherance  of  his  plans  he  had  directed  me, 
so  soon  as  certain  work  about  Los  Angeles  was  completed,  to  go  to  the 
Sacramento  valley,  with  the  purpose  of  increasing  the  force  of  the  battalion 
to  tiiree  hundred  men,  and  of  ascertaining  how  many  men  I  could  intluence 
to  embark  with  him  in  an  expedition  against  Mazatlan  or  Acapulco,  "  where, 
if  possible,  he  intended  to  land  and  tight  his  way  as  far  on  to  the  city  of 
Mexico  as  he  could."     The  number  required  was  one  thousand. 

It  must  be  conceded  to  Commodore  Stockton  that  if  he  was  bold 
in  the  conception  of  his  plans,  he  was  equall}'  prompt  in  the  endeavor  to 
execute  them.  In  this  one  his  expectation  was  at  least  to  distract  the 
attention  of  Mexico,  and,  in  the  presumable  event  that  her  forces  would  be 
fully  occupied  by  ours,  on  the  eastern  side,  he  might  find  an  open  way  to 
'shake  hands  with  General  Taylor  at  the  gates  of  Mexico." 

All  arrangements  being  completed,  he  re-embarked  his  men  and  sailed 
for  San  Francisco  on  the  5th  of  September,  touching  at  Santa  Barbara  to 
take  on  board  the  garrison  which  had  been  left  there.  The  civil  go\ern- 
ment.  as  he  had  formed  it,  was  in  cpiiet  operation  there,  the  American  tlag 
thing  peaceably;  and  the  prefect  and  alcalde,  appointed  by  himself,  in  the 
undisturbed  execution  of  their  duties. 

1  did  not  remain  at  Los  Angeles  many  days  after  his  departu  e.  Diu- 
ini;  this  time  I  made  occasional  excursions  into  the  neighborhood,  and  in 
ran<,nng  over  the  countiy  and  visiting  different  ranchos  made  friendly  ac- 
(I'aaintance  with  the  rancheros  which,  in  making  us  known  to  each  other, 
proved  afterwards  useful;  some  of  them  were  Californians  and  others  Eng- 
lishmen or  Americans  who  had  for  many  years  been  citizens  of  California. 
These  were  all  owners  of  tracts  of  land,  large  enough  to  be  called  domains, 
under  grants  from  the  Mexican  Government.  Among  the  places  which  I 
had  pleasure  in  visiting  was  the  Mission  of  San  Fernando,  which  m\-  Span- 


M  I     Pr 


if 


fi    II 


r 


570 


MEMOJKS  OF  MV  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  EREMOXT. 


ii    f 


';  I 


ish-spcaking  Indian  guide,  who  had  shown  me  the  way  over  the  desert  two 
years  before,  and  parted  from  me  within  a  day's  ride  of  this  mission,  had 
deseribed  to  me  as  most  beautiful  and  the  surrounding  country  most  lo\ulv. 
It  is  at  tlie  foot  o.'  the  pass  of  its  own  name,  and  after  occurrences  made  it 
a  marked  point  in  my  memory,  The  hirge  buildings  gave  it  to  me  an  im- 
posing appearance,  as  I  approached.  A  tall  palm  tree  which  extended  its 
branches  over  the  high  garden  wall  gave  it  at  once  a  southern,character.  I 
spent  some  pleasant  hours  in  going  over  the  buildings  and  the  church,  and 
in  the  vineyards  then  just  ready  for  the  vintage.  The  ceps  or  vines  liere 
were  forty  years  old.  At  Los  Angeles  the  September  mornings  were  cool 
and  generally  delightful,  at  times  almost  cold  enough  to  freeze;  the  midday 
hours  bright  and  sometimes  hot  enough  to  keep  the  native  bitumen,  with 
which  many  of  the  roofs  are  covered,  dripping  from  the  eaves  like  riiin- 
drops.  But  a  breeze  usually  made  the  shade  pleasant.  The  evenings  wore 
calm  and  the  nights  cool  and  clear  when  they  were  unobscured  by  fogs,  and 
the  dews  were  occasionally  heavy.  The  first  clouds  I  saw  appeared  on  the 
6th  of  September,  at  sunset,  gradually  spreading  over  the  sky,  and  tlic 
morning  following  was  cloudy,  but  clear  again  before  noon.  Lightning  at 
this  time  was  visible  in  the  direction  of  Sonora,  where  the  rainy  season  had 
already  this  commenced,  and  the  cloud}'  weather  was  perhaps  indicative  of 
its  approach  to  California. 

In  the  early  part  of  September  I  left  Los  Angeles  for  the  Sacramento 
valley  with  about  thirt}'-tive  men.  Travelling  along  at  sunrise  the  morninj.' 
was  cool  enough  to  make  the  barrel  of  my  rifle  disagreeably  cold  to  niv 
hand,  but  the  day  soon  became  pleasantly  warm;  it  was  just  the  weather 
for  days  on  horseback  when  there  is  no  special  care  to  interfere  with  the  en- 
joyment of  tine  weather  and  exercise.  Journeying  along  the  coast  towards 
Santa  Barbara  fogs  occasionally  obscured  the  sunset  over  the  ocean,  and 
rose  next  morning  with  the  sun.  There  fs  a  fertile  wooded  plain  stretching 
along  the  foot  of  the  San  Gabriel  Mountain,  and  frequently  on  the  way,  and 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Santa  Barbara,  I  noticed  that  some  of  the  trees  were 
partly  covered  with  moss,  indicating  in  this  localitv  a  moist  climate.  The 
great  variety  of  soil  and  climate  which  valleys  and  plains,  the  hills  and 
mountains  afford,  will  give  a  great  variety  and  difference  in  quality  to  the 
products  of  California.  When  I  first  came  to  the  country  it  was  supposed 
that  nothing  could  be  produced  without  irrigation,  not  even  the  ordinary 
vegetables  used  in  the  household  economy.  Where  only  a  little  patch  of  these 
was  cultivated  because  there  was  but  little  water,  I  soon  afterwards  saw  a 
ten-thousand-acre  field  of  barley,  and  a  hundred  miles  of  wire-fencing  enclos- 
ing the  cultivated  fields,  nearly  all  potatoes,  belonging  to  one  man.  And 
all  without  any  other  moisture  than  the  regular  season  and  the  soil  afforded. 
Near  the  sea  in  this  journey  I  came  across  some  very  attractive  spots. 


LEAVE  LOS  A.VGELES  FOR  SACRAMENTO. 


571 


t;  desert  two 
mission,  had 
most  lovely. 
;nces  made  it 
to  me  an  inv 

extended  its 
,charaetev.    I 
le  chureh,  and 
;  or  vines  here 
in<z;s  were  eool 
<jc\  the  midday 

bitumen,  with 
;aves  lilie  rain- 
I  evenings  were 
red  by  fos^s,  and 
appeared  on  the 
ic  sky,  and  the 
n.     Lightning  at 
rainy  season  had 
laps  indieative  o{ 

.  the  Saeramento 
„risc  the  mornin- 
•cablv  cold  to  my 
*  just  the  weather 
•rfere  with  the  en- 
■  the  eoast  towards 
|er  the  ocean,  and 
-d  plain  stretching 
[y  on  the  way,  and 
.of  the  trees  were 

pist  climate.     The 
ains,  the  hills  ami 
in  quality  to  the 
.y  it  was  supposed 
leven  the  ordinary 
little  patch  of  these 
afterwards  saw  a 
■ive-fencing  enclos- 
|to  one  man.    A"J 
.d  the  soil  afforded 
y  attractive  spots. 


The  garden  of  Dr.  Den,  near  Santa  Barbara,  was  one  of  these.  It  extended 
to  the  verge  of  a  low  sea-bluff  on  the  level  lowland  between  the  mountains 
and  the  sea;  and  in  the  midst  of  tlie  many  fruits  which  were  clustered 
together  in  a  luxuriance  almost  wild,  and  the  home  comforts  around,  the 
sheltered  securit}'  was  made  felt  by  tlie  sullen  \va\es  as  they  were  thrown 
back,  disappointed, from  the  shore.  It  was  pleasant  to  look  out  o\er  the  sea 
from  the  stillness  of  such  lovely  surroundings  and  picture  its  blind  rages 
and  deceptive  calms. 

We  were  travelling  one  morning  down  tlie  Salinas  valley,  three  or  four 
of  us  some  distance  ahead  of  the  party.     The  river  was  spread  over  several 
hundred  yards  in  little    streams  and    water-holes    and    threads    of  water, 
and  densely  covered  over  the  whole  space  of  the  bed  with  matted  thickets 
of  tall  willow.     Where  we  were  riding  on  the  prairie  bottom,  between  the 
willows  and  the  river  hills,  some  clumps  of  shrubbery  hid  for  the  moment  an 
open  ground  on  which  were  several  of  the  long-acorn  oaks.     Suddenly  we 
saw  among  the  upper  boughs  a  number  of  young  grizzly  bears,  busily  oc- 
cupied in  breaking  off  the  smaller  branches  which  carried  the  acorns,  and 
throwing  them  to  the  ground.     Seeing  us  as  soon  as  we  discovered  them, 
they  started  to  climb  down  but,  were  apparently  checked  and  driven  back, 
running  backw'ard  and  forward  in  great  alarm.     Dismounting  quiokl}-  and 
running  into  the  open  we  found  the  ground  about  the  trees  occupied  by  full- 
grown  bears,  which  had  not  seen  us,  and  were  driving  the  young  ones  back 
until  the  jingle  of  our  spurs  attracted  their  attention.     In  their  momentary 
pause  the  young  ones  clambered  down  and  scampered  into  the  brush,  as  did 
some  of  the  larger  ones.     Others  stood  tlicir  groimd  for  right,  some  charg- 
ing on   us,  and  for  awhile  the  skirmish  was  close  and  dangerous.     The 
party  behind  came  up  at  full  speed,  thinking  we  were  engaged  with  the 
Californians.     We  drove  the  bears  into  the  willows,  on  to  the  sand-bars, 
and  into  the  water  lioles,  among  which  our  men  were  dispersed  in  parties 
of  three  or  four.     When  the  iiicUe  was  over  twelve  bears,  old  and  young, 
were  found  killed.     During  the  right  at  a  moment  when  the  bears  made 
the  firing  rapid,  I  saved  the  life  of  Davis,  who,  looking  to  his  own  bear, 
stepped  in  front  of  King  just  as  he  rired  upon  another.     I  jerked  him  aside 
and  saved  him  by  an  instant's  breadth.     Our  noon-day  halt  was  made  on 
tlie  rield.     In  the  afternoon  we  came  upon  a  stretch  of  the  river  where  it 
had  collected  into  a  stream  about  eighty  yards  wide  and  on  the  opposite 
side  a  fine-looking  grizzly,  with  shining  coat  so  dark  as  to  be  almost  black, 
came  out  of  the  willows  to  the  water's  edge  and  stood  looking  at  us.     We 
tired  upon  him,  but  he  retreated  immediately  into  the  thicket.     It  was  a 
question  for  a  moment  wiiether  we  should  follow,  but  finally  Dick  Owens, 
Kniglit,  and  I  waded  across  the  river  and  went  in  after  him.     We  were 
moving  slowly  abreast,  among  the  willow  clumps,  when  Knight,  wh.o  was 


:i|i 


!■'! 


M 


llC  \  \ 


572 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


i 


one  of  the  outside  men  at  my  side,  found  the  bear  right  behind  him,  hidden 
for  the  moment  by  the  chimp  which  he  had  just  passed.  His  favorite 
weapon  was  a  double-barrelled  gun,  and  he  had  just  time  to  turn  and  fire 
both  barrels  into  the  bear  as  it  sprang  upon  him.  It  was  close  quarters; 
a  few  feet  distance,  with  a  big  grizzly — fortunately  he  was  killed.  Tiic 
skin  was  very  large,  with  thick  and  glossy  fur.  Writing  in  this  desultory 
way,  which  in  fact  only  followed  my  life,  for  that  was  desultory,  I  have  not 
before  spoken  of  William  Knight.  Mow  long  he  had  been  in  the  countr}- 1 
do  not  know.  I  Ic  was  one  of  the  settlers  and  one  of  the  best ; — afterwards 
well  known  by  his  ferry  and  rancho  on  the  Stanislaus.  I  had  engaged  him 
as  scout,  for  which  he  proved  excellently  well  qualified.  His  specialtv 
was  hunting,  and  this  made  him  know  the  countr)'  intimately;  and  in 
both  capacities  of  scout  and  hunter  he  will  appear  again. 

In  the  latter  part  of  September  1  reached  the  Sacramento  valley.  The 
three  months  which  had  elapsed  since  I  came  down  from  the  Tlamath  Lake 
had  worked  a  change.  There  were  no  rumors  now  of  burning  grain  fields, 
or  of  driving  emigrants  beyond  the  mountains.  From  north  and  east  thev 
were  fast  finding  their  way  into  the  valley,  looking  about  undisturbed  for 
farming  land,  buying  cattle,  and  laying  the  foundation  for  homes. 

I  dispersed  a  number  of  my  men  over  the  country,  with  the  object  of  ascer- 
taining by  inquiry  among  the  immigrants  the  probability  of  any  sufficient 
number  being  found  willing  to  engage  in  the  expedition  of  Commodore 
Stockton  against  southern  Mexico.  With  the  same  object  I  went  myself  to 
the  ranchos  of  several  men  whose  prudence  and  means  of  information  would 
enable  me  to  form  some  idea  of  probable  success  in  my  mission.  I  found 
the  prospect  not  encouraging.  There  was  no  difficulty  in  obtaining  the  aid 
of  the  immigrants  to  hold  the  country  we  had  taken.  They  had  come  to 
California  to  live  there  and  make  homes  for  their  families,  and  were  eagerly 
ready  to  defend  what  I  felt  authorized  to  assure  them  would  be  permanent!}- 
ours.  The  greater  number  had  left  their  women  and  children  behind  until 
they  should  have  built  a  home  and  prepared  mean.^  for  them  to  live  in  it. 
They  were  mostly  intelligent  men,  with  a  purpose,  and  the  men  who  had 
crossed  the  continent  with  a  purpose  had  will  and  energy  behind  it — usually 
men  of  the  best  kind  in  their  particular  business.  Generally,  now,  I  found 
them  indisposed  to  break  up  their  plans,  which  in  the  favorable  change  in 
the  condition  of  the  country  they  saw  would  be  successful,  to  go  off  on  ;i 
doubtful  enterprise,  that,  in  an}-  event,  would  surely  bring  to  them,  indi- 
vidually, no  corresponding  advantage.  And  I  met  with  a  serious  difficulty 
in  the  fact  that  when  appealed  to  by  them  for  my  own  opinion,  I  did  not 
have  enough  confidence  in  the  enterprise  to  advise  them  to  embark  in  it. 
So  that  when  I  received  the  following  note  I  was  unable  to  give  Commodore 
Stockton  any  reasonable  encouragement : 


THIRD  EXPEDITION.— A  LIVEL  Y  FIGHT  WITH  BEARS. 


T. 

him,  hidden 
lis   favorite 
urn  and  tire 
)se  quarters; 
killed.     The 
tiis  desultory 
y,  I  have  not 
the  country  I 

• afterwards 

engaged  him 

His  specialty 

ately;    and  in 

o  valley.    The 
Tlamath  Lake 
;ng  grain  fickls, 
h'and  east  they 
undisturbed  for 

omes. 

le  object  of  ascer- 
|of  any  sufficient 
of   Commodore 
ll  went  myself  to 
[formation  would 
nission.     Ho""^^ 
obtaining  the  aid 
hey  had  come  to 
,nd  were  eagerly 
tl  be  permanently 
dren  behind  until 
ficm  to  live  in  it. 
he  men  who  had 
',chind  it-usually 
aiy,  now,  1  found 
orable  change  in 
ill,  to  go  off  on  ii 
[na  to  them,  indi- 
serious  difficulty 
.pinion,  I  did  not 
to  embark  in  it. 
crive  Commodore 


573 


U.  S.  Frigaie  Congress, 
Harbor  of  San  Francisco,  September  28,  1846. 
{Private^ 

Sir  :  I  am  here,  anxious  to  know  what  prospect  there  is  of  your  being  able  to  recruit  my 
thousand  men  for  a  visit  to  Mexico. 

Let  me  know  as  soon  as  possible.  Many  serious  arrangements  will  have  to  be  made,  all 
requiring  more  or  less  time,  which,  you  know,  in  war  is  more  precious  than  "  rubies." 

Your  faithful  friend  and  obedient  servant, 

(Signed)  R.  F.  Stockton, 

Girucrnor,  etc. 
To  Major  Fremont, 

Military  Coriimandcr  of  the  Territory  of  California. 

But  meantime  c\'ents  were  occurring  which  compelled  an  abrupt  cliange 
in  his  plans.  A  few  days  after  this  note  reached  me  I  received  an  order 
from  Conmiodore  Stockton  to  come  forthwith  to  San  Francisco  with  as 
many  men  and  saddles  as  I  could  obtain  for  imiuediate  service  in  southern 
California.  An  insurrection  had  broken  out  in  the  south  under  Jose  Maria 
Flores,  a  captain  in  the  Mexican  Army,  and  the  Mexican  officers  generally 
had  broken  their  parole  and  joined  him.  Gillespie  was  besieged  in  the 
Government  House  at  Los  Angeles. 

The  territory  had  been  placed  b\'  Commodore  Stockton  under  martial 
law  and  in  his  arrangements  at  Los  Anireles  for  their  g(nernment  he  had 
acted  with  little  or  no  knowledge  of  tlie  Californians,  who,  without  pretence 
or  declarations,  had  been  in  fact  and  in  practice  essentially  a  free  people, 
and  governed  themselves.  Their  tic  to  tlie  mother  government  was  simply 
one  of  feeling  and  race  as  to  a  country  which  was  hereditary;  but  they 
were  capricious  and  refractory  children,  fond  of  having  their  own  way.  A 
large  part  of  their  time  they  were  accustomed  to  spend  on  horseback  witii- 
out  let  or  hindrance.  There  were  no  restrictions  of  ground — no  fences  or 
barred  up  roads — the  country  was  everywhere  open  to  horse  and  rider. 
They  led  wholesome  and  careless  lives.  The  little  care  their  cattle  re- 
quired was  only  healthy  exercise.  On  the  great  ranges  these  were  like 
game,  and  supplied  them  w-i-h  abundant  food.  The  hides  and  tallow  which 
made  '  ■'  chief  value  brought  trading  vessels  to  the  coast  and  procured 
for  t!iv.n-i  all  the  ordinary  necessaries  of  life;  and  the  rich  soil  gave  them 
abundi  nt  vegetables  and  fruit.  They  were  a  happy  people,  li\ing  withcnit 
restraint  or  vexatious  authority,  one  large  family,  with  kinships  ramified 
throughout  the  whole.  Mostly,  in  the  towns,  the  evenings  were  spent  in 
social  gatherings,  with  only  the  light  refreshments  of  the  wines  of  the  coun- 
try. Healthy  and  good-tempered,  they  had  their  pleasure  in  the  friendly 
meeting  and  the  dancing,  for  other  amusements  there  were  none.  And 
each  one  had  the  old  Spanish  pride  in  his  personality,  for  every  ranchero 
NViis  a  grandee  of  the  country.  Such  a  people,  free  to  range  at  pleasure  by 
night  as  by  day,  would  hardly  endin-e  any  restraints  upon  that  personal  lib- 


■;  ll 


\ 


574 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRiiMONT. 


erty.  where  any  oppression  is  most  quickly  felt.  Among  the  police  regu- 
lations laid  down  by  Commodore  Stockton  were  two  which  jarred  against 
all  the  instincts  of  this  people.  These  two  were,  first,  that  any  one  who 
wished  to  be  out  of  his  house  before  sunrise  must  have  a  pass  from  Cap- 
tain Gillespie,  the  commandant  of  the  district.  And,  second,  that  any  per- 
sons who  wished  to  carry  arms  for  protection  to  themselves  and  servants 
must  have  a  written  pass  from  the  same  authority. 

As  a  naturally  to  be  expected  consequence  from  these  and  other  exac- 
tions, we  had  hardly  left  the  south  before  the  people  rose  against  the  new 
order  of  things,  which  had  been  decreed  but  not  established,  because  thoy 
could  not  take  root.  This  was  the  natural  result  of  those  ill-adapted  rcgu- 
lations  which  interfered  directly  with  the  personal  convenience  and  habits 
of  the  Californians.  In  the  same  spirit,  afterward,  were  the  arbitrary  exac- 
tions, amounting  to  conh'.ication,  rigorously  enforced  against  them  by  the 
government  in  regard  to  the  lands  which  were  absolutely  their  sole  moans 
of  existence.  All  this  regardless  of  the  usages  and  tenure  of  a  century. 
The  promises  of  our  Government,  while  the  object  was  to  "  conciliate  "  and 
disarm  any  hostile  feelings  of  the  people,  were  full  of  good-will  and  consid- 
eration; but  their  acts,  when  they  had  acquired  the  power  to  act,  were  not 
onl}-  ill-judged  and  ill-adapted  to  the  interests  of  these  people,  but  arbitrary 
and  oppressive;  and  while  apparently  only  in  the  exercise  of  rights  which 
the}'  had  purchased,  singularly  inequitable  and  false  in  the  highest  degree  to 
their  promises  and  treaty  obligations. 

To  bring  my  command  to  San  Francisco  Commodore  Stockton  had 
sent  a  fleet  of  boats  in  charge  of  Midshipman  Edward  Bcale,  whom  I  had 
met  in  Montere}'  in  July.  At  our  meeting  now  commenced  intervals  of 
agreeable  companionship  on  interesting  occasions  that  resulted  in  a  family 
friendship  which  has  continued  for  forty  years. 

General  Bcale,  at  the  date  to  which  I  refer,  was  a  real  midshipman  of 
the  old  t}'pe:  happy  and  spilling  over  with  uncontrolled  good  spirits,  as 
mostly  midshipmen  are  used  to  be  when  away  from  the  restraints  of  the 
ship.  Many  miles  of  a  delta,  broad  and  long,  ha\'e  been  made  by  the  San 
Joaquin  and  Sacramento  Ri\"crs,  covered  with  tulc  and  intersected  b}'  a  net- 
work of  sloughs.  The  bay  and  its  sloughs  at  that  time  were  not  familiar 
to  seagoing  men,  or  indeed  to  men  of  any  kind.  Of  his  navigation  through 
the  fiihires  in  search  of  me  I  will  let  Beale  speak  for  himself. 

I  remember  the  lovely  spring-like  morning  (I  think  it  was  autumn,  but  it  ought  to  have  been 
spring  because  I  was  so  happy)  when  I  was  ordered  to  command  a  squadron  of  boats  (what  is 
the  Presidency  to  that  at  nineteen  or  twenty?)  and  go  to  find  Fremont — ^Sir  Galahad  going  to 
search  for  the  Holy  Grail.  Wide  and  beautiful  before  us  was  the  splendid  and  lovely  bay.  So 
far  as  we  were  concerned,  "we  were  L,,e  first  that  ever  burst  into  that  lonely  sea." 

We  looked  curiously  at  Rod  RocU,  p.;ssf»d  f.j ys/f  (fr  /as yr-rnas  And  met  the  furious  title  nf 
Garquinez  Straits.     My  remembranci'  is  .■/  steered  us,  and  we  camped  for  the  night.     The  next 


GENERAL  JiEA/.E'S  HUMOROUS  ACCOUNT. 


575 


iolice  regu- 
-red  against 
ny  one  who 
s  from  Cap- 
hat  any  per- 
md  servants 

\  other  exac- 
linst  the  new 
because  they 
adapted  regu- 
,ce  and  habits 
irbitrary  exac- 
,  them  by  the 
eir  sole  means 
of  a  century. 
:onciUate  "  and 
^•iU  and  consid- 
o  act,  were  not 
e,  but  arbitrary 
of  rights  which 
ighest  degree  to 

Stockton  had 
tie,  whom  I  had 
Iced  intervals  of 
ilted  in  a  family 

midshipman  of 
Icrood  spirits,  :^^^ 
Ir^estraints  of  the 
Invade  by  the  San 
rsected  by  a  net- 
/ere  not  familiar 
agaticn  through 
llf." 

lit  ought  to  have  been 
Iron  of  boats  (what  .s 
Isir  Galahad  going  w 
I  and  lovely  bay.    So 

l\V  sea."  . ,     , 

let  the  furious  tulco 

1  the  night.    The  next 


day  we  looked  over  the  vast  ocean  of  Tules  which  make  at  Suisun  and  towards  where  the  Sac- 
ramento and  San  Joaquin  come  together  in  the  great  middle  mere  of  that  wonderful  delta. 
There  was  everything  curious  to  us  that  sunset.  Monte  Diavolo,  with  double  peaks — a  long 
white  line,  very  distant,  which  told  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  and  the  bewitching  contour  of  the 
nearer  coast  range  and  quiet  and  lovely  valleys  lying  close  aboard — I  believe  there  were  mosqui- 
toes in  those  Tules,  but  I  never  saw  one  until  after  1  became  fifty  and  died  to  all  there  is  worth 
living  for  in  life.  Anyhow,  we  were  more  interested  in  raccoons,  which  the  sailors,  who  always 
know,  said  were  mitn/^ooses ;  and  the  coyotes,  which  they  knew  to  be  panttfrs,  because  one  of 
them  1  .id  read  Cooper's  "  Leather-Stocking ;"  all  of  which  I  firmly  believed  until  a  venerable 
captain  of  the  fore-top  told  me  he  had  read  "  Horace  Pottle  "  and  knew  them  to  be  the 
American  lion— he  got  tiie  lie  on  me  that  time  and  I  lost  faith  in  him  to  a  great  extent.  Well, 
we  pulled  in  and  tied  up  to  the  Tules  that  night,  and  next  day  I  took  the  disciple  of  "  Horace 
Pottle"  with  me,  and  wading  a  long  time,  we  at  last  reached  dr>'  land  and  cast  about  for  some- 
thing to  shoot.  Not  far  oft  were  some  animals  wliich  the  captain  of  the  top  told  me  were  cows. 
He  said  he  knew  they  were  cows,  because  all  cows  had  horns  excepting  bulTalocs.  Nevertheless, 
as  we  were  out  of  meat  and  in  a  foreign  countr}-  wilh  which  we  proposed  a  little  war,  I  fired  and 
killed  one  of  them,  and  after  some  discussion,  in  which  the  boats'  crews  took  part  as  jurors,  we 
decided  it  could  not  be  a  cow.  Next  day — tlie  philtjsopher  still  with  me — we  discovered  a  man 
on  horseback,  whereupon  we  prepared  to  give  him  a  broadside,  as  we  were  at  some  distance  from 
camp,  and  were  already  owners  (in  fancy)  of  a  horse  and  saddle,  when,  to  our  intense  disgust, 
he  spoke  to  us  in  English  and  proved  to  be  Jake  Snyder,  of  Fremont's  Battalion.  Then  1  had 
found  my  Holy  (irail  and  went  with  him  to  Sonoma,  or  some  such  place.  We  went  like  tiie 
knightly  Hospitalers,  two  on  one  horse,  I  holding  on  to  the  talTrail  when  at  a  gallop. 

The  town  was  all  ablaze.  Old  Ide — I  wonder  if  he  was  descended  of  that  Alexander  Iden 
who  slew  Jack  Cade — was  there,  and  Cosgrove  and  Snyder  and  Hensley  and  Hidwell  and  Gili- 
son  and  a  lot  of  others — perhaps  I  have  named  some  who  were  not,  as  the  names  all  come  by  a 
hazy  sort  of  mist  to  my  memorj'.  Very  soon,  mayhap  it  was  the  next  day,  we  all  went  to  the 
boats  and  soon  set  sail  for  the  bay  again.  Major  Fremont  being  naturally  in  the  fastest  boat 
with  me,  we  outsailed  the  fleet  and  at  nightfall  hauled  up  on  an  island.  Here  I  went  to  work  to 
signal  by  a  hre  where  we  were.  I  pulled  all  sorts  of  bushes  and  among  these  a  lot  of  poison- 
oak.  When  the  boats  had  all  come  safely  to  us  we  had  supper,  at  which  our  cow  played  the 
part  of  first  lady.  After  supper  to  bed.  Witii  my  usual  providence  I  had  brought  no  blankets, 
and  Mr.  Fremont  offered  nie  part  of  his  bed,  which  was  a  monstrous  grizzly  bear-skin.  1  soon 
began  to  itch  so  much  I  told  him  there  must  be  fleas  in  his  bear-skin,  at  which  he  laughed. 
Very  soon  I  seemed  to  be  on  fire  and  got  up  and  went  to  where  the  water  was  lapping  on  the 
crag,  but  there  was  no  balm  in  Gilead  for  me  that  night  nor  for  many  after.  I  could  do  nothing 
but  swell  and  swear  and  swear  and  swell.  Soon  my  head  was  as  big  as  a  flour-barrel  and  Job 
had  no  harder  time  than  I.  Howsomever.  we  got  under  way,  and  by  the  time  we  reached  the 
old  frigate  Coiii^rrss,  I  had  no  need  to  pray,  "Oh.  for  an  hour  of  blind  old  Dandolol  "  for  1  was 
blind  as  ever  he  was.  I  remember  the  old  surgeon,  who  must  have  got  his  diploma  in  a  Sioux 
lodge,  poured  arnica  over  me,  for  which  I  promised  him  if  I  ever  caught  him  ashore  to  pay  him 
olT  with  a  vitriol  bath.  And  all  this  happened  in  the  fall  of  forty-six,  and  a  few  unimportant 
matters  have  liappened  since,  but  harrlly  worth  reco.    "ng. 

PS. — I  forgot  to  say  that  Jakr  Snyder  said  our  cow  was  an  <•//!•,  an  assertion  whicli  the 
philosopher  received  and  disputed  with  contempt. 

While  engaged  in  operations  at  the  south  I  had  the  great  regret  to  learn 
that  in  just  such  a  boat-voyage  through  the  Straits  of  Carquinez,  Commander 
Montgomery  had  the  shock  of  losing  his  eldest  two  sons.  He  had  been 
appointed  Military  Commandant  of  the  Northern  District,  which  included 
the  vSutter  Fort.  There  was  need  to  send  some  supplies  to  the  fort  by  boat, 
in  eiiarge  of  which  were  these  sons,  accompanied  b}-  Midshipman  Iluganin. 
A  violent   gale  overtook  them  in  the  straits,  where  the  wind  against  the 


V  i  I ! 


I  i 


57' 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LfFK—JO/LV  CHARLES  ERilMONT. 


swift  current  (which  forced  Beale  to  encamp  for  the  night)  raises  heavy 
seas.  In  these  it  is  beHcved  the  boat  was  swamped,  and  all  on  board 
were  lost. 

It  happened  that,  although  we  had  worked  cordially  together,  1  had 
never  met  Coiiimander  Montgomery,  but  the  generous  promptness  witli 
which  his  mind  rose  to  the  spirit  of  the  occasion,  and  the  willing  activity 
with  which  he  had  entered  into  ni}-  plans  in  the  Sacramento  valley,  had 
given  me  a  feeling  of  comradeship  with  him  that  made  his  loss  almost  pur- 
sonal  to  me.  The  aid  which  lie  ga\e  had  encouraged  the  settlers,  added 
strength  to  my  movements,  and  embarrassed  the  Mexican  authorities.  He 
was  a  man  of  quick  and  generous  impulses,  and  with  that  kind  of  io\al 
patriotism  which  sets  countr}'  above  self  and  does  not  stop  to  calculate  the 
cost  when  the  occasion  offers  to  serve  it.  lie  did  not  fail  to  compreliend 
that  there  was  purpose  in  my  movements,  and,  from  his  interview  with 
Gillespie,  he  learned  enough  to  satisfy  himself  that  I  had  authority  for  wliat 
I  was  doing.  From  that  moment  I  had  his  willing  aid  and  cordial  sym- 
pathy. He  could  not  go  beyond  a  certain  limit,  but  he  chafed  with  the 
restraint  of  his  position,  and  was  eager  for  open  action.  The  3ear  for  which 
the  name  of  a  "  m/ss/>/i>"'  officer  is  still  carried  on  the  rolls  was  about  to  ex- 
pire, and  brought  the  official  inquiry  which  is  answered  in  the  following 
official  reports  to  the  Navy  Department.  They-  show  that  all  search  had 
been  in  vain,  and  that  no  trace  of  the  missing  boat  could  be  found.  vSuch 
an  accident,  surrounded  b}-  land  and  so  near,  seemed  harder  than  if  it  had 
occurred  on  the  open  sea. 

(X<>.  43.— C«//.) 
U.  S.  Ship  Independence,  Monterey,  September  30,  1847. 
Sir  :     I  enclose  a  report,  from  Commander  J.  B.  Hull,  of  all  that  is  known  in  relation  to  the 
loss  of  the  launch  of  the  Warren  and  Midshipmen  Montgomery  and  Huganin. 

The  boat  is  supposed  to  have  foundered  in  the  Straits  of  Carquinez,  through  which  the  ebb- 
tide sets  with  great  velocity  against  a  strong  wind  and  caused,  of  course,  a  dangerous  sea. 

The  shores  in  the  neighborhood  and  whereve:  it  was  supposed  the  wreck  might  have  drifted, 
have  been  carefully  and  frequently  examined,  but  nothing  that  wa"?  in  the  boat  has  been  found, 
and  I  regret  to  say  that  there  is  not  a  shadow  of  doubt  that  all  on  board  perished. 
I  am  respectfully  your  obedient  servant, 

W.  Branfori)  Shubrick, 

Commanding  Pacific  Squadron. 
Hon.  John  Y.  Mason, 

Secretary  of  the  Navy,  Washington.  D.C. 

(Copy.) 
U.  S.  Ship  Warren,  Monterey  Bay,  September  30, 1847. 
Sir  ;  In  reply  to  your  letter  of  this  date,  directing  me  to  make  to  you  a  detailed  report  of 
the  loss  of  the  launch  in  which  Midshipman  Montgomery  perished,  I  have  the  honor  to  submit 
the  following  statement  of  that  melancholy  occurrence.  On  the  13th  of  November  last,  the 
launch  of  this  ship  left  San  Francisco  to  go  up  the  Sacramento  to  Sutter's  Fort,  on  public 
service,  under  the  order  of  Commander  Montgomer>',  then  in  command  of  the  Northern  Depart- 


COMMANDER  MONTGOMERY'S  GREAT  LOSS. 


577 


meni  of  California.  She  was  in  charge  of  Acting  Master  William  H.  Montgomery,  and  had  on 
board  a  brother  of  W.  Montgomery  and  Midshipman  D.  C.  Huganin,  of  the  /'or/smotit/i.nnA  the 
following  men  belonging  to  the  ship,  viz.:  Geo.  Redmore,  C.  A.  G. ;  Milton  Ladd,  seaman  i 
Anthony  Sylvester,  seaman  ;  John  Dowd,  seaman  ;  Alexr.  McDonald,  O.  S.:  Philip  L.  Lee,  sea- 
man;  Saml.  Lane,  O,  S. ;  Gilman  Hilton,  O.  S. ;  Saml.  Turner,  landsman.  And  a  quantity  of 
arms  and  ammunition  sufficient  for  her  defence.  There  was  also  on  board  the  sum  of  about 
nine  hundred  dollars  sent  to  pay  bills  due  at  the  fort  on  account  of  the  service. 

After  she  had  been  absent  longer  than  was  thought  necessary  to  perform  the  trip,  great 
anxiety  was  felt  for  her  safety,  and  on  the  30th  of  the  month  a  hired  boat  with  some  men  from 
this  ship  was  sent,  by  my  direction,  in  search  of  her:  on  the  iSth  of  December  the  boat  re- 
turned, after  having  searched  the  river  and  inlets  as  far  as  Fort  Sacramento,  without  hearing 
anything  of  the  missing  launch.  A  day  or  two  after  the  launch  left  the  ship  there  was  a  vir)lent 
gale,  in  which  it  was  afterwards  thought  she  must  have  been  lost,  and  no  definite  intelligence 
has  since  been  heard  of  her. 

Very  respectfully,  your  obedient  servant, 

J.  B.  Hull. 

Coiiiinaiitier. 
Commodore  IV.  B.  S/tuin'ck, 

Commanding  U.  S.  Squadron,  Pacific  Ocean. 

The  next  morning  I  reported  to  the  commodore  my  arrival  with  one 
luindred  and  seventy  good  men,  well  armed  and  with  their  iior.se  equip- 
ments ready  for  service  when  horses  could  be  had  to  moimt  them.  The 
dav  following  we  were  embarked  on  the  ship  Sf/r!/iig\  under  orders  to  pro- 
ceed to  Santa  Barbara  and  endeavor  to  surprise  the  enemy  at  that  place. 
Tiie  commodore  meanwhile  had  ordered  Captain  Mcrvine,  then  l3"ing  at 
Monterey  in  the  frigate  Savautiah  under  sailing  orders  for  the  coast  of 
Mexico,  to  go  direct  to  San  Pedro  and  give  all  possible  support  to  the  little 
garrison  at  Los  Angeles. 

The  Sh' rl in <r  got  underway  at  the  same  time  with  the  Congress.,  but  the 
commodore  having  crossed  the  bar  and  got  to  sea  before  us,  hove  to  until 
we  were  also  fairly  at  sea,  and  both  vessels  headed  their  way  with  a  fair 
wind  down  the  coast.  In  the  afternoon  of  the  day  of  sailing  we  separated, 
in  a  fog,  from  the  Co>i<rress. 

The  events  which  were  involved  in  the  movements  of  the  commodore 
intluenced  the  course  of  my  own  life,  and  for  this  reason  I  will  leave  the 
.S7/r//wi»'out  of  sight  in  the  fog  and  follow  him.  Between  San  Francisco  and 
Monterey  the  commodore  spoke  the  merchant  ship  Barnsfabh^  with  de- 
spatches to  himself  from  Captain  Maddox  at  Monterey,  informing  him  that 
an  attack  on  the  town  was  expected  and  asking  immediate  aid.  Running 
the  Congress  into  the  bay  of  Monterey,  he  reinforced  the  garrison  with 
two  officers  and  fifty  men  and  some  artillery ;  and  continuing  down  the  coast, 
he  touched  at  Santa  Barbara  to  ascertain  if  I,  with  my  sailing  vessel,  had 
succeeded  in  "  surprising  "  that  town.  Not  finding  me  there,  he  concinued 
on  to  San  Pedro,  where  he  found  the  Savannah. 

Upon  his  capitulation  at  Los  Angeles,  Captain  Gillespie  had  retreated 
with  his  garrison  to  San  Pedro  and  the  merchant  ship  Vandalia,  then  lying 


ill   if  ip 

I'll  ,'  iii 


I! 


57« 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFJi-JO/fX  CHARLES  EREMONT. 


Ri   ii 


there.  Shortly  after,  Captain  Mcrvine  entered  with  the  frij^'ate  Savannah, 
under  orders  from  Commodore  Stoekton,  to  afford  all  the  aid  within  the 
compass  of  the  Saz'annah\s  resources  to  the  little  ^^^arrison  at  Los  Anj^'cles. 
Acting  in  the  spirit  of  his  instructions,  Mervine  landed  part  of  his  crew  of 
sailors  and  marines  with  Gillespie's  men,  but  without  artillery,  and  attempted 
to  force  his  way  across  the  plain  to  Los  Angeles.  Early  on  the  march  lie 
was  met  by  a  body  of  Californians  with  a  single  piece  of  artillery,  which 
they  used  so  effectually  to  harass  him  that  he  was  compelled  to  abandon 
his  attempt  to  reach  the  town  and  retreat  to  his  ship,  with  a  loss  of  four 
killed  and  several  wounded.  Wherever  horses  could  be  brought  into  plav 
the  Californians  were  at  home,  and  being  naturally  brave,  could  be  used  to 
the  utmost  advantage  that  man  and  horse,  acting  together,  were  capable  of. 
Men  gro\>'ing  up  on  foot  will  be  '^Mually  bra\e  but  not  equally  bold  as  men 
growing  up  on  horseback.  Here  in  California  we  had  the  spectacle  of 
ranchmen,  without  discipline  and  fresh  from  their  ranchos,  attacking  and 
defeating  a  regular  force  having  the  prestige  which  regular  forces  alwavs 
have  in  their  favor  against  irregular  troops.  In  this  skirmish  their  simple 
tactics  were  to  run  down  upon  Mervine's  troops  within  fair  range  of  tiicir 
single  gun  and  open  tire  upon  them;  continuing  it  until  the  Americans  got 
near  enough  to  make  their  fire  in  turn  effectual,  when  the  vaqueros  would 
lasso  their  gun  and  gallop  off  with  it  at  full  speed  to  another  C()n\ciiiL'nt 
distance;  keeping  up  this  manoeuvre  until  Captain  Mervine  found  that  lie 
could  not  reach  Los  Angeles  without  great  loss,  if  in  fact  he  should  \\\v\ 
himself  able  to  reach  it  before  being  surrounded  and  cut  off  by  the  accumu- 
lating force  of  the  Californian  cavalrv,  which  in  the  meantime  was  suffi'i- 
ing  no  loss.  Mervine  repeatedly  attempted  to  charge  the  Californians,  his 
men  bravely  seconding  him  and  making  evcr\'  effort  to  reach  them,  but  it 
was  literally  impossible;  he  being  on  foot  and  they  being  on  horseback. 

The  commodore  was  displeased  with  this  incident  and  with  its  natural 
result  in  the  encouragement  it  would  gi\"e  to  the  Californians,  and  pro- 
ceeded at  once  to  remove  this  impression.  "  Elated  by  this  transient  suc- 
cess which  the  enemy,  with  his  usual  want  of  veracity,  magnified  into  a 
great  victory,  they  collected  in  large  bodies  on  all  the  adjacent  hills,  and 
would  not  permit  a  hoof  except  their  own  horses  to  be  within  fifty  miles  of 
San  Pedro."  I  have  a  reason  for  letting  Commodore  Stockton  speak  here- 
along  for  himself. 

hi  the  instructions  given  to  me  I  had  been  informed  that  he  would  land 
here  to  co-operate  with  me  on  niv  approach  from  Santa  Barbara.  Orders 
were  accordingly  giA-en  to  prepare  for  the  landing  of  the  troops  in  the 
morning,  and  a  party  of  volunteers  were  ordered  to  land  before  daylight, 
"  to  cover  the  general  landing  which  was  to  be  made  up  a  ^•ery  steep  bank 
and  in  the  face  of  the  enemy.     The  volunteers  failing  to  land  in  time,  in 


THIRD  EXPEDITION.— CAPTAIN  AIER VINE'S  EIGHT. 


579 


consequence  of  a  fancied  force  of  the  enemy;  not  so  with  the  sailors  and 
marines,  who  were  ready  in  the  boats  alonj^side  the  two  ships,  and  who,  as 
soon  as  I  discovered  that  the  vokmteers  had  not  succeeded,  I  ordered  to 
land.  The  boats  of  the  Savannah  were  under  the  immediate  command  of 
Captain  Mervine;  those  of  the  Congress  under  the  immediate  command  of 
Lieutenant  Commander  Livingston,  and  performed  the  service  in  a  most 
gallant  manner,  being  myself  present." 

"  On  our  approach  to  the  shore,  the  enemy  fired  a  few  muskets  without 
harm  and  fled;  we  took  possession  and  once  more  hoisted  our  flag  at  San 
Pedro." 

The  commander-in-chief  commended  "  the  determined  courage  with 
which  the  oflicers,  sailors,  and  marines  landed  (in  despite  of  the  false  alarm 
as  to  the  enemy's  force),  and  again  hoisted  the  American  standard  at  San 
Pedro." 

"  The  troops  remained  encamped  at  that  place  for  several  days  before 
the  insurgents,  who  covered  the  adjacent  hills,  and  until  both  officers  and 
men  had  become  almost  worn  out  by  chasing  and  skirmishing  with  and 
watching  them,  and  until  I  had  given  up  all  hope  of  the  co-operation  of 
Major  Fremont.  Besides,  the  enemy  had  driven  off  every  animal,  man 
and  beast,  from  that  section  of  the  country,  and  it  was  not  possible,  by  any 
means  in  our  power,  to  carry  provisions  for  our  march  to  the  city." 

"I  resolved,  thercfc  ;,  to  embark  the  troops,  and  waste  no  more  time 
there,  but  to  go  down  south  and,  if  possible,  to  get  animals  somewhere 
along  the  coast  before  the  enemy  could  know  or  prevent  it,  and  to  mount 
my  own  men  and  march  to  the  city  by  the  southern  route." 

Sometimes,  hovvever,  infantry  has  been  known  to  carry  rations  enough 
for  support  during  a  march  of  thirty  miles.  Tired  of  waiting  on  me,  the 
commodore  left  the  Savannah  to  look  out  for  me,  and  sailed  to  San  Diego, 
where  Lieutenant  Minor  was  in  command.  Arri\ing  off  the  harbor  he 
attempted  to  cross  the  bar,  but  the  ship  got  ashore,  and  he  was  obliged 
to  return  to  the  outside  anchorage. 

Lieutenant  Minor  reporting  the  town  besieged  by  the  Californians  and 
that  more  men  and  provisions  were  required  for  the  garrison.  Captain  Gilles- 
pie was  sent  on  shore  with  supplies  and  that  part  of  my  battalion  which  had 
formed  the  garrison  at  Los  Angeles. 

At  Lieutenant  Minor's  request  Captain  Gibson  of  the  battalion  was 
sent  with  a  party  to  a  localit}-  of  ranchos  near  the  coast,  to  the  south- 
ward, indicated  by  Senor  Bandini,  where  some  horses  and  cattle  might  be 
obtained. 

Two  days  after  his  arrival  at  San  Diego,  the  Maiek  Adhel  CAvne  in  from 
Monterey  with  despatches  from  me,  in  which  I  wrote  to  Commodore  Stock- 
ton:    "Wc  met  the   f'^rwAc/Zi^  with  information  of  the  occurrences  belo- 


■•  ■;'.* 


l:« 


'J 


'4  ■ 


m 


5S0 


m/-:mo/ks  of  my  i.ni:  -joitx  ciiaiu.es  frIimoxt. 


Mr.  Howard  rcprcscntLd  tliat  tlic  enemy  had  driven  off  all  the  horses  and  cat- 
tle, so  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  obtain  either  for  transportation  or  sup- 
plies. I'^nder  the  circumstances,  and  usinjj  the  discretionary  authorit\-  voii 
have  jjiven  me,  I  jud»jed  it  of  paramount  necessity  to  haul  up  immediately  for 
this  port,  with  the  intention  to  send  for  all  the  men  who  could  be  raised  in  liic 
north,  and  for  the  band  of  horses  which  I  had  left  on  the  Consumne.  In  the 
meantime  we  should  be  able  to  check  the  insurrection  here,  and  proeun- 
horses  and  supplies,  so  as  to  be  in  readiness  to  march  to  the  southward  im- 
mediately on  the  arrival  of  our  reinforcements."  I  have  sometimes  won- 
dered, since  reading  the  commodore's  letters  to  the  Stcretar}-  of  the  Navv, 
in  which  he  kept  him  informed  of  my  failure  to  connect,  if  it  never  occurred 
to  Stockton  that  the  same  dirtieullies  which  blocked  his  march  upon  Los 
Anj^eles  were  also  in  the  way  of  my  command,  which  was  expected  to 
operate  as  a  mounted  force  in  the  interior. 

I'^pon  the  receipt  of  my  letter  the  commodore  went  back  with  his  ship 
to  San  Pedro  and  sent  the  Savninnr/i  to  Monterey  to  aid  me  in  preparinir  for 
the  march  on  Los  Angeles.  Returning  to  San  Diego  he  buoyed  the  bar 
and  succeeded  in  getting  the  Co//o-ress  into  the  harbor,  where  she  could  lie 
undisturbed  by  the  southeast  storms.  Meantime  Gibson  had  succeeded  in 
bringing  into  San  Diego  some  horses  and  cattle,  but  the  horses  were  in  such 
pot)r  condition  that  it  would  require  weeks  of  rest  to  fit  them  for  ser\  ice. 
On  the  afternoon  of  the  commodore's  arrival  the  Californians  made  an 
attack  on  the  town,  but  were  driven  bnck  with  the  loss  of  two  men  killed 
and  four  wounded.  Such  skirmishes  were  of  almost  daily  occurrence, 
resulting  mostly  from  the  attempts  of  the  garrison  to  reach  the  ranchos  for 
supplies. 

During  the  time  that  he  remained  at  San  Diego  the  unreflecting  impa- 
tience which  belonged  to  the  temperament  of  Commodore  Stockton  ex- 
perienced some  useful  schooling.  Inside  the  bulwarks  of  a  ship  of  war 
patience  in  the  commander  was  an  unknown  quantity.  He  could  hold 
coast  towns  under  the  i  re  of  his  guns;  but  when  it  came  to  equipping  a 
force  on  the  coast  of  an  nemy's  country  for  a  march  into  the  interior  he 
saw  with  surprise  that  ch  things  as  obstacles  to  his  will  , could  exist. 
Finding  that  his  alert  enc  v  had  dri\en  every  animal  oH  from  the  coast  in 
the  neighborhood  of  San  .  'Cgo,  and  refused  to  let  him  have  any  horses  or 
cattle  or  fresh  provision  of  any  kind,  he  bethought  himself  of  the  sea 
which  he  knew  about,  an.,  decided  to  deceive  the  Californians  by  sending 
a  vessel  down  the  coast  several  hundred  miles  away  to  a  part  of  Lower 
California,  where  the  tidings  of  war  had  probably  not  3-et  reached  the  scat- 
tered ranchos,  or  where,  if  they  had,  one  of  the  usual  trading  vessels  would 
arouse  no  suspicion.  Accordingly  about  the  end  of  November  Captain 
Hensley,  with  Company  B  of  the  battalion,  was  embarked  in  the  merchant 


)Ar. 

horses  and  cat- 
;)rtati()n  or  sup- 
authority  you 
inmcdiatcly  for 
be  raised  in  the 
suninc.     In  the 
•0,  and  proeurc 
southward  inv 
;()metinies  won- 
•y  of  tlic  Navy, 
never  oeeurred 
areh  upon  Los 
•as  expected  to 

:k  with  his  ship 
in  prepariuL:  for 
buoyed  tlie  bar 
;re  slie  could  He 
id  succeeded  in 
■ses  were  in  such 
lem  for  service, 
rnians  made  an 

two  men  killed 
lily   occurrence, 

the  ranehos  for 

ireflecting  impa- 
e  Stockton  ex- 
a  ship  of  war 
le    could    hold 
to  equipping  a 
the  interior  he 
11,  could    exist. 
om  the  coast  in 
c  any  horses  or 
iself  of   the  sea 
ans  by  sending 
part  of  Lower 
cached  the  scat- 
"■  vessels  would 
ember   Captain 
n  the  merchant 


»f 


GENERAL  KEARXY  REACHES  CALIEORXIA. 


58i 


ship  Stonitigton^  directed  to  go  down  the  coast  of  C.ilifornia  to  try  there 
for  horses  and  mules,  saddles  and  saddle  gearing,  cattle  and  working  bul- 
locks for  the  guns;  all  of  which  were  essential  for  the  march  on  Los  An- 
geles. The  saddle  tree  and  horse-hair  girth  and  saddle  gear  generally  of 
the  Californians  are  made  for  hard  service  and  very  strong,  especially  the 
tree  and  girth;  and  usually  were  made  on  the  ranches.  While  efforts 
were  made  to  procure  these  from  the  outside,  the  men  inside  the  town  were 
kept  at  work  to  contribute  to  the  necessary  equipment. 

About  tnis  time  two  men  came  into  San  Diego  from  the  eneni}  's  camp 
at  San  Bernardo,  reporting  it  to  consist  of  onl\-  about  fifty  men.  Thereupon 
Captain  Gillespie  was  ordered,  with  as  man\"  men  as  horses  could  be 
found  to  mount,  and  one  field-piece,  to  make  an  attempt  to  "  surprise  " 
them.  During  his  day  of  preparation  for  this  ser\ice  an  English  resident 
of  California,  Mr.  Stokes,  came  into  San  Diego,  bearing  the  following  letter 
to  Commodore  Stockton  from  Brigadier-General  Kearny,  of  the  United 
States  Army,  who  had  just  reached  by  overland  journey  the  frontier  of 
inhabited  California : 

Hkadquarikks,  Army  of  thf.  Wkst, 

Camp  at  Warnkr's,  December  2,  1846. 
Sir:     1  (this  afternoon)  reached  here,  escorted  by  a  party  of  the  First  Regiment  Dragoons. 
I  came  by  orders  from  the  President  of  the  United  States.    We  left  Santa  Vi  on  the  25ih  of 
September,  having  taken  possession  of  New  Mexico,  annexed  it  to  the  United  States,  established 
a  civil  government  in  that  territory,  and  secured  order,  peace,  and  quietness  there. 

If  you  c;;n  send  a  party  to  open  a  communication  with  us,  on  the  route  to  this  place,  I  wish 
you  would  do  so,  and  as  quickly  as  possible. 

The  fear  of  this  letter  falling  into  Mexican  hands  prevents  me  from  writing  more. 
Your  express  by  Mr.  Carson  was  met  on  the  Del  Norte,  and  your  mail  must  have  reached 
Washington  at  least  ten  days  since. 

Very  respectfully,  your  obedient  servant, 
s!  W.  Kkarnv, 

nrii;,;.i'icr-Gcitfra/.  C.  S.  A. 

It  will  be  remarked  that  in  this  letter  no  mention  is  made  of  Carson, 
other  than  the  reference  to  him  as  bearer  of  an  '*  express." 

A  good  pas-s  called  by  the  name  of  Warner  led  directly  from  the 
desert  through  the  lower  mountain  onto  Warner's  rancho.  Stockton 
replied  as  follows: 


,|i; 


I 


H 


I: 


,..  „    : 


i 


Hkadquari  KRs,  San  Dikgo, 

December  3,  1846,  half-past  6  o'clock  P.^^. 
Sir  :     I  have  this  momen'  received  your  note  of  y(?sterday.  by  Mr.  Stokes,  and  have  or- 
dered Captain  Gillespie,  with  a  detachment  of  mounted  riflemen  and  a  field-piece,  to  your  camp 
without  delay. 

Captain  Gillespie  is  well  informed  in  relation  to  the  present  state  of  things  in  California,  and 
will  give  you  all  neeatui  information.     I  need  not,  therefore,  detain  him  by  saying  anything  on 


1,   I' 


mHHiini 


582 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


the  subject.  I  will  merely  say  that  I  have  this  evening  received  information,  by  two  deserters 
from  the  rebel  camp,  of  the  arrival  of  an  additional  force  in  this  neighborhood  of  one  hundn.d 
men,  which  in  addition  to  the  force  previously  here,  makes  their  number  about  one  hundred 
and  fifty. 

I  send  with  Captain  Gillespie,  as  a  guide,  one  of  the  deserters,  that  you  may  make  inquiries 
of  him,  and,  if  you  see  fit,  endeavor  to  surprise  them. 
Faithfully,  your  obedient  ser\-ant, 

R.    F.   SlOCKION, 
CommaiK/er-in-C/nef  ami  Governor  of  the  Territory  of  California. 

By  Kearny's  letter  it  appeared  that  he  had  not  only  taken  possession  of 
New  Mexico,  but  had  "  annexed  "  it  to  the  United  States.  Givinjjf  my  stoiv 
here  alone;  as  briefly  as  I  can,  to  do  so  clearly,  I  still  thousjht  it  well  to  insert 
some  letters  in  order  to  <five  at  their  source  statements  of  facts  or  events, 
which  have  special  bearing  on  my  narrative,  and  I  have  not  given  much 
space  to  minor  occurrences  of  the  time,  but  occupied  myself  with  the  men 
who  were  chief  actors  in  the  more  important  events,  and  who  made  them. 
And  in  order  to  isolate  them  from  their  surroundings  and  give  them  the 
greater  prominence,  I  have  let  them  tell  their  own  story,  and  disclose  their 
thoughts  in  their  letters;  so,  giving  a  truer  idea  of  their  characters  than  I 
should  have  done  if  I  had  transfused  their  thoughts  through  my  own  mind 
and  language.  Gillespie's  command  being  immediately  available,  he  was 
ordered  to  proceed  forthwith  to  General  Kearny's  camp.  His  party  con- 
sisted of  twent}'-six  men  from  the  battalion  under  Captain  Gibson;  with  a 
detachment  of  ten  carbineers  and  a  brass  four-pounder  field -piece  from  the 
Congress,  under  Acting-Lieutenant  Beale  and  Midshipman  Duncan. 

Among  the  men  from  the  battalion  was  Godey,  who  had  been  made 
by  Stockton  a  first  lieutenant.  His  knowledge  of  the  country  and  ex- 
perience in  it  made  him  at  this  junctiu'e  a  valuable  man.  Captain  Gilles- 
pie left  San  Diego  with  his  command  about  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening  of 
the  3d,  in  all  but  forty  men,  every  horse  fit  for  service  having  been  taken  for 
the  use  of  the  party.  With  every  effort  made,  the  few  animals  brought  in 
by  Ca^Jtain  Gibson  were  all  that  could  be  gleaned  from  the  country.  Mr. 
Stokes  accompanied  the  party,  and  with  it  went  also  one  of  the  Califor- 
nians  who  had  come  in  from  their  camp  at  San  Bernardo.  He  was  sent  to 
guide  General  Kearny  in  the  event  that  he  should  wish  to  attack  it. 

On  the  day  but  one  following  his  departure  from  San  Diego,  Gillespie 
met  General  Kearny  about  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  in  the  mountains 
between  Santa  Maria  and  Santa  Ysabcl,  and  put  himself  at  his  orders. 
Small  as  it  was,  his  part)'  proved  a  seasonable  addition  to  the  force  which 
the  general  had  with  him.  Informed  by  Gillespie  of  the  proximity  of  the 
small  force  of  the  Californians,  the  general  decided  to  attack,  and,  if  possi- 
ble, to  "  surprise  "  them.  In  the  evening  of  the  same  day  he  encamped 
near  San  Pasqual. 


'ONT. 

n,  by  two  deserters 
od  of  one  hundred 
ibout  one  hundred 

may  make  inquiries 


■y  of  California. 

:en  possession  of 
Giving  my  story 
it  well  to  insert 
facts  or  events, 
not  given  mucli 
jlf  with  the  men 
^vho  made  them, 
d  give  them  the 
md  disclose  their 
characters  than  1 
A\  my  own  mind 
avaihable,  he  was 
His  party  con- 
1  Gibson ;  with  a 
Id-piece  from  the 
n  Dvnican. 

had  been  made 
country  and   ex- 
Captain  Gilles- 
in  the  evening  of 
\c\^  been  taken  for 
imals  brought  in 
|he  country.     Mr. 
le  of  the  Cahfor- 
lle  was  sent  to 
attack  it. 
Diego,  Gillespie 
in  the  mountains 
If  at    his    orders. 
|o  the  force  which 
proximity  of  the 
;ack,  and,  if  possi- 
lay  he  encamped 


UEXER  IL  KEARXY  WORSTED  AT  SAX  BERXAKDO. 

A  few  days  after  Gillespie  had  left  San  Diego  Mr.  Stokes  returned, 
bringing  information  that  General  Kearny  had  attempted  to  "  surprise  " 
the  Californians  at  San  Bernardo,  and  that  sharp  fighting  had  followed  the 
attack,  in  which  the  general  had  lost  many  killed  and  wounded,  and  one  of 
his  guns;  and  had  been  worsted.  What  was  the  final  reswlt  he  did  not 
know,  as  he  had  left  before  the  action  was  over,  without  communicating 
with  any  one  on  the  field  of  battle.  It  suggests  itself  naturally  here  that 
Gillespie  would  have  fared  badly  had  he,  as  was  intended,  attempted  the 
same  performance  with  his  forty  men.  Mr.  Stokes,  in  his  excitement,  had 
seen  a  great  many  men  on  the  field,  and  he  reported  General  Kearny's 
force  as  three  hundred  and  fifty. 

The  day  after  the  arrival  of  Stokes,  Lieutenant  Godey,  on  the  7th, 
with  two  men,  came  in,  having  been  hurried  forward  from  San  Pasqual 
with  the  following  letter: 

Headquarters,  Camp  near  San  Pasqual,  December  6,  1846. 
Sir  :     I  have  the  honor  to  report  to  you  that  at  early  dawn  this  morning  General  Kearny, 
with  a  detachment  of  the  United  States  dragoons  and  Captain  (iillespie's  company  of  nn-.unted 
riflemen,  had  an  engagement  with  a  very  considerable  Mexican  force  near  this  camp. 

We  have  about  eighteen  killed  and  fourteen  or  fifteen  wounded  ;  several  so  severely  that  it 
may  be  impracticable  to  move  them  for  several  days.  I  have  to  suggest  to  you  the  propriety  of 
despatching,  without  delay,  a  considerable  force  to  meet  us  on  the  route  to  San  Diego,  via  the 
Soledad  and  San  Bernardo,  or  to  find  us  at  this  place  ;  also,  that  you  will  send  up  carts  or  some 
other  means  of  transporting  our  wounded  to  San  Diego.  We  are  without  provisions,  and  in 
our  present  situation  find  it  impracticable  to  obtain  cattle  from  the  ranches  in  the  vicinity. 

General  Kearny  is  among  the  wounded,  but  it  is  hoped  not  dangerously ;  Captains  Mon- 
roe and  Johnson,  First  Dragoons,  killed  ;  Lieutenant  Hammond,  First  Dragoons,  dangerously 
wounded.  I  am,  sir,  very  respectfully, 

Your  obedient  ser\'ant, 

H.  S.  Turner, 

Captain  U.  S.  A.,  comi^. 
Commodore  R.  F.  Stockton,  V.  S.  A'a7y,  San  Diego. 

Godey  was  unable  to  give  any  certain  account  of  the  force  engaged  on 
cither  side,  and  the  result  of  the  action,  together  with  Stokes'  report,  in- 
duced Stockton  to  believe  that  the  Californian  strength  was  much  greater 
than  he  had  been  led  to  suppose.  He  therefore  prepared  to  set  out  himself 
to  Kearny's  relief  with  his  whole  force. 

Preparations  were  at  once  made  for  his  advance,  with  two  pieces  of 
artillery,  to  move  forward  at  seven  o'clock  of  the  same  evening  to  the 
Mission  of  San  Diego,  about  nine  miles  from  the  town;  the  commodore 
intending  to  join  it  with  the  remainder  of  his  force  the  next  day. 

Meantime,  great  was  his  surprise  to  learn  from  Godey  that  Carson  was 
in  General  Kearny's  camp,  and  he  lost  liimself  in  conjectures  as  to  how  he 
came  there. 

Preparations  for  the  intended  march  were  being  pushed  at  all  points 


584 


xMEMOIRS  OF  MV  LIl-E-JOHX  CHARLES  JREMONT. 


when  in  the  evenin<jf  of  the  yth  an  Indian  who  had  been  with  Beale  as  a 
servant  came  into  San  Diego.  He  reported  that  Beale  and  Carson,  with 
himself,  had  been  sent  for  reUef  and  had  succeeded  in  getting  through  tlie 
lines  of  the  Californians  who  were  surrounding  the  American  camp.  On 
approaching  S^i  Diego  the  three  had  separated,  taking  different  routes,  in 
the  hope  that  at  least  one  of  liieni  would  reach  the  town.  Living  at  San 
Diego,  he  was  fam'Har  with  the  ground  and  was  the  first  to  get  in.  About 
ten  o'clock  Beale  came  in,  and,  following  him,  Carson.  They  stated  that  the 
force  under  General  Kearny's  command  had  attempted  to  surprise  the 
insurgents  on  the  morning  of  the  6th  at  San  Pasqual;  that  in  the  tight 
which  ensued  General  Kearny  had  been  defeated,  with  the  loss  of  eighteen 
or  nineteen  killed  and  thirteen  or  fourteen  wounded;  that  General  Keani\- 
and  his  v.iiole  force  were  besieged  on  a  small  hill  of  rocks,  and  so  surrounded 
by  the  enemy  that  it  was  impossible  for  them  to  escape  unless  immediate 
assistance  was  sent  to  them;  that  all  their  cattle  had  been  taken  away  from 
them  and  that  they  were  obliged  to  eat  their  mules;  that  they  were  burn- 
ing and  destroying  a  quantity  of  public  propert}- — tents,  saddles  and  bridles, 
and  camp  equipage  of  every  description,  as  well  as  pri\  ate  stores  and  cloth- 
ing. On  the  side  of  the  Californians  Don  Andres  Pico,  the  brother  of  the 
governor,  was  in  command. 

These  tidings  showed  that  the  urgency  of  General  Kearn\'s  situation 
admitted  of  no  delay  and  the  advance  at  San  Diego  Mission  was  detained  and 
increased  to  the  number  of  two  hundred  and  iifteen  men  and  one  tield-pieee, 
it  being  found  impracticable  to  get  ready  the  artiller}-  which  Commodore 
Stockton  had  intended  to  take  with  him.  The  relief  force  was  put  under 
the  command  of  Lieutenant  Andrew  Gray,  of  the  Congress ,  and  hurried  off, 
lie  was  directed  to  march  until  near  daylight,  when  he  was  to  make  some 
convenient  camp  where  his  men  might  lie  concealed  during  the  day;  resuni- 
in$f  his  march  at  nightfall,  and  to  avoid  enga-jing  the  enemv  before  effecting' 
a  junction  with  General  Kearny. 

Ciuickl}-  as  possible,  after  his  arrival  with  the  letter  from  Captain 
Turner,  Lieutenant  Gode\'  had  been  sent  off  to  the  American  camp  with 
tidings  of  the  coming  relief.  Bv  habit,  mindful  of  the  tritles  that  make 
comfort  in  camp,  he  carried  with  him  some  supplies  to  Captain  Gillespie, 
who  had  been  wounded.  Afterward,  I  regretted  to  learn  that  Captain 
Gibson  had  been  lanced  tlirough  the  body.  Among  other  incidents  of  the 
fight,  which  1  heard  when  we  met  at  Los  Angeles,  there  was  one  which 
long  remained  fresh  in  my  memory.  One  of  the  Californians  in  the  inclic 
ran  his  sword  through  the  body  of  ;i  Christian  or  iSIexican  Indian  who  was 
lighting  on  the  American  side.  \Vhen  he  felt  the  sword  go  through  him 
the  Indian  knew  that  he  was  killed  and  called  out  "  Bastay  "  (Vni  vcz'' 
said  the  soldier-murderer,  and  ran  him  through  the  second  time.     ".7/// 


WT. 


ith  Beale  as  a 
Carson,  with 
;  through  the 
n  camp.  On 
rent  routes,  in 
Living  at  San 
et  in.  About 
;tated  that  the 
)  surprise  t!ie 
t  in  the  tight 
)ss  of  eighteen 
encral  Kcarn\' 
so  surrounded 
CSS  immediate 
;cn  away  from 
e\'  were  burn- 
ies  and  bridles, 
;)res  and  elotii- 
brother  of  the 

rn\'s  situation 
s  detained  and 
Dne  ticld-pieee, 
Commodore 
was  put  under 
nd  liurricd  off. 

o  make  some 
le  day;  resum- 

.'fore  effecting 

from  Captain 
an  camp  with 
Ies  that  make 
(tain  Gillespie, 
that  Captain 
icidents  of  the 
as  one  which 
IS  in  the  iiiclcc 
idian  who  was 
through  him 
"  (Vni  vcz:' 
time.    "  Aki 


a 
o 
u, 

Q 

O 


Z 


14 

e 

Q 

y. 


w 

(- 
y. 


s^ewBBwssT 


GENERAL  KEARNY  FORCED  CARSON  TO  RETURN. 


585 


e^/rt,"  said  he.  "  Si  Senor^^''  said  the  dying  man,  with  the  submission  of  an 
Indian  to  his  fate* 

Stockton  was  angered  when  he  learned  from  Carson  how  it  was  that  he 
came  to  be  in  General  Kearny's  camp.  A  few  days  out  from  Santa  F6  he 
had  met  the  general,  who,  after  hearing  from  him  what  had  taken  place  in 
California,  had  turned  him  back  to  act  as  his  guide  and  given  the  despatches 
of  which  he  was  the  bearer  to  Fitzpatrick,  to  be  carried  to  Washington. 

Cuvicr  said  that  give  him  a  bone  and  he  would  construct  the  animal. 
It  has  been  remarked  a  little  way  back  that,  in  the  letter  announcing  to 
Commodore  Stockton  his  arrival.  General  Kearny  mentioned  Carson's  name 
only  incidentally  as  having  met  him  as  the  bearer  of  Stockton's  despatches. 
He  said  nothing  of  having  stopped  him  on  his  road  and  turned  back  the 
trusted  man  whom  Commodore  Stockton  and  myself  had  chosen  to  be  the 
bearer  of  important  despatches,  and  equally  important  verbal  communica- 
tions, to  the  Government  and  friends  in  Washington,  nor  of  having  taken 
away  from  him  the  despatches  and  sent  them  forward  through  a  man  of  his 
own  selection.  Merely,  he  "  had  met  him.''''  That  misleading  letter  was  the 
bone  out  of  which  to  make  the  man.  The  concealment  of  an  act  which 
was  wrong  in  itself  and  which  it  so  much  interested  Commodore  Stockton 
to  know,  showed  with  the  clearness  of  light  the  quality  which  was  the  root 
of  his  character — a  falseness  which  contaminated  every  other  quality. 


EXTRACT    FROM    SPEECH    OF    SENATOR    BENTON     IN    U.  S.  SENATE. 

"  Mr.  Carson  has  since  arrived  in  Washington  and  given  me  the  following  statement  in 
relation  to  '.he  turning  back,  the  truth  of  which,  as  of  everything  else  that  he  says,  I  under- 
write : 

"  '  STATEMENT   OF  MR.  C.  CARSON. 

" '  I  met  General  Kearny,  with  his  troops,  on  the  6th  of  October,  about  —  miles  below  Santa 
Fe.  I  had  heard  before  of  their  coming;  and  when  I  met  them,  the  first  thing  I  told  them  was 
that  they  were  "  too  late" — that  California  was  conquered,  and  the  United  States  flag  raised  in 
all  parts  of  the  country.  But  General  Kearny  saif  he  would  go  on  ;  and  said  something  about 
going  to  establish  a  civil  government.  I  told  hin  a  civil  government  was  already  established,- 
and  Colonel  Fremont  appointed  governor,  to  com  nence  as  soon  as  he  returned  from  the  north, 
some  time  in  that  very  month  (October).  Genenl  Kearny  said  that  was  no  dilTerence  ;  that  he 
was  a  friend  of  Colonel  Fremont,  and  he  would  make  him  governor  himself.  lie  began  from 
the  first  to  insist  on  my  turning  back  to  guide  1  im  into  California.  I  told  him  I  could  not  turn 
hack— that  I  had  pledged  myself  to  Commode  re  Stockton  and  Colonel  Fremont  to  take  their 
despatches  through  to  Washington  City,  and  ti  return  with  them  as  far  as  New  Mexico,  where 
niv  family  lived,  and  to  carry  them  all  the  way  I  ack  if  I  did  not  find  some  one  at  Santa  Fe  that 
I  could  trust  as  well  as  I  could  myself;  that  I  li;.d  promised  them  I  would  reach  Washington  in 
sixty  days,  and  that  they  should  have  return  desparrhes  from  the  Government  in  one  hundred 
and  twenty  days.  I  had  performed  so  much  of  the  journey  in  the  appointed  time,  and,  in  doing 
so,  had  already  worn  out  and  killed  thirty-four  mules  ;  that  Stockton  and  Fremont  had  given 


ife 


*The  Indian  knew  that  he  was  killed,  and  called  ont"  Enoit!;!i."  "  Anotlier  time."  saXA  the  soldier- 
murderer,  and  ran  him  through  the  body  a  second  lime.  "There  it  is,"  said  he.  "  i'es,  Seiior"  said  the 
dying  man,  with  the  submission  of  an  Indian  to  his  fate. 


586 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


me  letters  of  credit  to  persons  on  theway  to  furnish  mc  with  all  the  animals  I  needed,  and  all  sup- 
plies to  make  the  trip  to  Washinfjtoii  and  back  in  the  one  hundred  and  twenty  days :  and  that  I 
was  pledged  to  them,  and  could  not  disappoint  them  ;  and,  besides  that  I  was  under  more  obli- 
gations to  Colonel  I'ninont  than  to  any  other  man  alive.  CJeneral  Kearny  would  not  hear  any 
such  thing  as  tny  going  on.  He  told  me  he  was  a  friend  to  Colonel  F"rimont  and  Colonel  Hen- 
ton,  and  all  the  family,  and  would  senrl  on  the  despatches  by  .Mr.  ['"itzpatrick,  who  had  been  with 
Colonel  Fremont  in  his  exploring  party,  and  was  a  good  friend  to  him,  and  would  take  the  de- 
spatches through  and  bring  them  back  as  quick  as  1  could.  When  he  could  not  persuade  me  to 
turn  back,  he  then  told  me  that  he  had  a  right  to  make  me  go  with  him,  and  insisted  on  his 
right;  and  I  did  not  consent  to  turn  back  till  he  had  made  me  believe  that  he  had  a  right  to 
order  me  ;  and,  then,  as  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  was  going  on  with  the  despatches,  and  General  Kearny 
seemed  to  be  such  a  good  friend  of  the  colonel's,  I  let  him  take  me  back;  and  1  guided  him 
through,  but  with  great  hesitation,  and  had  prepared  everything  to  escape  in  the  night  before 
they  started,  and  made  known  my  intention  to  Maxwell,  vho  urged  me  not  to  do  so. 

•■  ■  More  than  twenty  times  on  the  road.  General  Kearny  told  me  about  his  being  a  friend  of 
Colonel  Benton  and  Colonel  Fremont  and  all  their  family,  and  that  he  intended  to  make  Colo- 
nel Fremont  the  governor  of  California,  and  all  this  of  his  own  accord,  as  we  were  travelling 
along  or  in  camp,  and  without  my  askine^  him  a  word  about  it. 

"  '  This  statement  I  make  at  the  request  of  Senator  Henton,  but  had  much  rather  be  examined 
in  a  court  of  justice,  face  to  face  with  General  Kearny,  and  there  tell  at  once  all  that  I  know 
about  General  Kearny's  battles  and  conduct  in  California.'  " 


Later,  the  mischievous  results  brought  upon  us  by  the  turning  back  of 
our  messenger  to  Washington  will  fully  appear. 

The  estimate  which  I  had  made  of  the  frank  and  brave  character  of  the 
Californians  is  well  sustained  by  the  conduct  of  Don  Andres  Pico,  as  told 
in  the  same  speech  of  Senator  I3enton: 

The  four  days'  siege  of  the  hill  was  the  period  of  interesting  events,  which  it  was  the  duty  of 
the  general  to  have  told,  and  which  he  suppressed  to  keep  up  his  assumed  character  of  victor. 
First,  there  was  the  capture  of  the  generous  and  daring  Godey,  with  his  two  companions  in  full 
view  of  Kearny's  camp,  after  his  adventurous  run  to  San  Diego,  forty  miles,  to  get  aid  for 
Kearny  ;  and  rapid  return  with  the  tidings  that  it  was  coming — tidings  which  he  could  not  de- 
liver because  he  was  captured  in  view  of  Kearny  by  his  besiegers.  This  fact  had  to  be  sup- 
pressed, or  the  illusive  cry  of  victory  was  at  an  end.  It  was  suppressed — doubly  suppressed— 
not  noticed  in  the  official  report,  and  not  confessed  on  interrogation  before  the  court-martial. 
Then  there  was  the  chivalry  of  Don  Andres  Pico,  worthy  of  Castilian  blood,  m  his  conduct  to 
his  enemies.  He  treated  the  captured  men  with  the  utmost  kindness — Godey  as  a  brother,  be- 
cause he  knew  his  renown,  and  honored  heroism  in  his  person.  He  inquired  for  the  killed,  and 
especially  for  Gillespie,  whom  he  personally  knew,  and  whom  he  had  reported  among  the  dead. 
Godey  told  him  that  he  was  not  dead,  but  badly  lanced,  and  that  his  servant  in  San  Diego  had 
made  up  some  supplies  for  him,  which  he  had  brought— sugar,  cofTee,  tea,  fresh  linen.  Pico  put 
the  supplies  under  a  flag,  and  sent  them  to  Gillespie,  with  an  invitation  to  come  to  his  camp  and 
receive  better  treatment  than  he  could  get  on  the  dry  rocks  of  San  Bernardo;  which  he  did, and 
was  treated  like  a  brother,  returning  when  he  pleased.  The  same  flag  carried  a  proposition  to  ex- 
change prisoners.  Kearny  was  alarmed  at  it,  and  saw  nothing  in  it,  or  in  the  noble  conduct  to 
Gillespie,  but  a  trick  and  a  lure  to  perfidy.  He  was  afraid  to  meet  the  flag.  None  of  those  for 
whom  he  reser\'ed  the  honors  of  his  report  to  the  Government  would  venture  to  go.  There  was 
a  lad  present — one  of  those  sent  out  by  Stockton,  a  midshipman,  the  son  of  a  widow  in  sight  of 
this  Capitol,  the  grandson  of  Truxton,  and  no  degenerate  scion  of  that  illustrious  stock;  his 
name,  Beale.  This  lad  volunteered  to  go  and  hear  the  propositions  of  exchange.  Great  was  the 
alarm  at  his  departure,  and  American  was  one  of  the  precautions  for  his  safety.  A  six-barrelled 
revolver,  in  addition  to  the  sword,  perfectly  charged  and  capped,  was  stowed  under  his  coat. 
Thus  equipped,  and  well  mounted,  he  set  out,  protected  by  a  flag,  and  followed  by  anxious  eyes. 


vr. 

eded.andallsup- 
•  days ;  and  thai  I 
under  more  obli- 
,iiUl  not  hear  any 
iind  Culoncl  Ik-n- 
^-ho  had  been  with 
ould  take  the  de- 
iiot  ijorsuadc  me  to 
nd  insisted  on  liis 

he  had  a  right  to 
nd  General  Kearny 

and  1  guided  him 
in  the  night  before 
to  do  so. 

lis  being  a  friend  of 
ided  to  make  C<ilo- 
5  we  were  travelling 

h  rather  be  examined 
nee  all  that  1  know 


turning  back  of 

character  of  the 
Ires  Pico,  as  told 


uich  it  was  the  duty  of 
[d  character  of  victor, 
vo  companions  in  full 

miles,  to  get  aid  for 
(lich  he  could  not  de- 
tact  had  to  be  sup- 

-doubly  suppresscd- 
|ore  the  court-martial. 
3od,  m  his  conduct  to 
^odey  as  a  brother,  be- 

ired  for  the  killed,  and 

Kted  among  the  dead. 

■ant  in  San  Diego  had 
fresh  linen.     Pico  put 

,  come  to  his  camp  and 

,rdo;  which  he  did,  and 

•led  a  proposition  to  ex- 

the  noble  conduct  to 

,s     None  of  those  for 

,turetogo.    There  was 

,  of  a  widow  in  sight  ol 

t  illustrious  stock;  his 

Ixchange.   Great  was  the 

safety.     A  six-barrelled 

Istowed  under  his  coat. 

)llowed  by  anxious  eyes. 


CAHSOiV'S  HONEST  STATEMENT  OF  KEARNVS  ACTIONS, 


5«7 


The  little  river  San  Bernardo  was  crossed  at  a  plunging  gallop,  without  a  drink,  though  rabid 
for  water  both  the  horse  and  his  rider,  the  rider  having  a  policy  whicli  the  iiorse  could  not  com- 
prehend. Approaching  a  picket  guard,  a  young  alfarez  (ensign)  came  out  to  inquire  "  for  what 
purpose?"  The  mission  was  made  known,  for  IJeale  spoke  Spanish;  and  while  a  sergeant  was 
sent  to  the  general's  tent  to  inform  him  of  the  flag,  a  soldier  was  despatciicd  to  the  river  for  water. 
"  Hand  it  up  to  the  gentleman,"  was  the  Castilian  command.  Heale  put  the  cup  to  his  lips,  wet 
them,  in  token  of  acknowledging  a  civility,  and  passed  it  back  ;  as  much  as  to  say  we  have  water 
enough  on  the  hill.  The  aljixrcz  smiled  ;  and,  while  waiting  the  arrival  of  Don  Andres,  a  courte- 
ous dialogue  went  on.  "  How  do  you  like  the  country  .^  "  inquired  the  alftxrez.  "Delighted 
with  it,"  responded  Beale.  "  You  occupy  a  good  position  to  take  a  wide  view."  '•  Very  good:  can 
see  all  round."  "  I  don't  think  your  horses  Iind  the  grass  refreshing  on  the  hill."  Not  very  re- 
freshing, but  strong."  There  was,  in  fact,  no  grass  on  the  hill,  nor  any  shrub  but  the  one  culled 
wire-wood,  from  the  close  approximation  of  its  twigs  to  that  attenuated  preparation  of  iron 
which  is  used  for  making  knitting-needles,  card-teeth,  tishing-hooks,  and  such  small  notions! 
and  upon  which  wood,  down  to  its  roots,  the  famished  horses  gleaned  until  compassionate  hu- 
manity cut  the  halters,  and  permitted  them  to  dash  to  the  river  and  grassy  banks,  and  become 
the  steeds  of  the  foe.  By  this  time  three  horsemen  were  seen  riding  up,  as  all  Californians  ride. 
Arriving  within  a  certain  distance,  they  halted,  as  only  Californians  and  Mamelukes  can  halt ; 
the  horse,  at  a  pull  of  the  bridle  and  lever  bit,  thrown  back  upon  his  haunches,  fixed  in  his 
tracks,  and  motionless  as  the  equestrian  statue  of  Peter  the  Great.  One  of  the  three  advanced 
on  foot,  unbuckling  his  sword  and  flinging  it  twenty  feet  to  the  right.  The  alfares  had  de- 
parted. Seeing  the  action  of  the  gentlemen,  Beale  did  the  same — unbuckled  his  sword  and 
flung  it  twenty  feet  to  the  right.  The  swords  were  then  forty  feet  apart.  But  the  revolver : 
there  it  stuck  under  the  coat — unmistakable  symptom  of  distrust  or  perfidy — sign  of  intended 
or  apprehended  assassination,  and  outlawed  by  every  code  of  honor  from  the  field  of  parley. 
Confusion  filled  his  bosom  ;  and  for  a  moment  honor  and  shame  contended  for  the  mastery.  To 
try  and  hide  it,  or  pull  it  out,  expose  it,  and  fling  it  away,  was  the  question  ;  but  with  the  grand- 
son of  Truxton  it  was  a  brief  question.  High  honor  prevailed.  The  clean  thing  was  done. 
Abstracted  from  its  close  concealment,  the  odious  tool  was  bared  to  the  light,  and  vehemently 
dashed  far  away— the  generous  Californian  afTecting  not  to  have  seen  it.  Then  the  boy  breathed 
"  easier  and  deeper." 

The  business  of  the  parley  was  soon  arranged.  Pico  had  three  Americans,  and  Kearny  had 
but  one  Californian,  sole  fruit  of  the  "  7>ictory  "  of  San  Pasqual,  Pico  offered  to  exchange  man 
for  man.  Beale  was  anxious  to  redeem  Godey,  yet  would  not  name  him,  only  described  him. 
Pico  smiled.  "  That  is  Godey,"  said  he.  "  You  can't  have  him  ;  but  he  will  be  treated  well. 
Describe  another."  Beale,  supposing  he  was  to  be  refused  again,  and  so  reduced  to  the  one 
which  he  least  wanted,  described  Burgess,  a  brave  man,  but  the  least  intelligent  of  the  three. 
"You  shall  have  him,"  was  the  ready  reply.  "  Send  our  man,  and  he  shall  redeem  Burgess."  It 
was  done,  and  the  exchange  etlected. 

True  to  his  instincts  (to  give  dangers  to  others  and  honors  to  his  own  scquitors),  Kearny 
sent  out  Captain  Emory  to  consummate  the  exchange  ;  and  he,  improving  upon  the  act  of  his 
general,  falsified  his  story,  in  his  journal,  by  omitting  all  mention  of  Beale,  and  taking  to  him- 
self the  sole  credit  of  the  parley.  He  thus  relates  the  transaction  in  his  journal,  p.  i  lo:  "  De- 
cember 8th. — -In  the  morning  a  flag  of  truce  was  sent  into  our  camp,  informing  us  that  Andres 
Pico,  the  commander  of  the  Mexican  forces,  had  just  captured /cw  Americans,  and  wished  to 
exchange  them  for  a  like  number  of  Californians.  We  had  but  one  to  exchange,  and  with  this 
fi'/hKi'  I  was  sent  to  meet  Andres  Pico,  whom  I  found  to  be  a  gentlemanly  looking  and  rather 
handsome  man.  The  conversation  was  short ;  for  / sa-v  the  man  lic'd'ishedto c.XiluDi^c-wtis  Hui- 
gcss,  one  of  those  sent  on  the  morning  of  the  6th  to  San  Diego  ;  and  we  were  very  anxious  to 
know  the  result  of  his  mission.  Taking  rather  a  contemptuous  leave  of  his  late  captors,  he  in- 
formed us  of  the  safe  arrival  of  himself  and  Godey  at  San  Diego.  He  also  stated,  that  when 
captured,  his  party,  consisting  of  himself  and  two  others,  on  their  return  from  San  Diego,  had 
previously  cached \.)\^\v  letters  under  a  tree,  which  he  pointed  out  to  me;  but,  on  subsequent  ex- 
amination, we  found  the  letters  had  been  extracted." 

So  far  the  journal ;  and  so  far  as  honor  is  concerned.  Brevet  Lieutenant-Colonel  Emory  may 
wear  what  he  has  won  by  his  own  account  of  himself  in  the  transaction.    I  let  him  alone.    I  per- 


il ■  \i\ 

m 


^^! 


iMi 


!i,,  ij 
s 


:M 


:!!!! 

!li' 


588 


MEMOIRS  or  MY  LIF/i-JOH.V  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


form  a  cherished  duty  to  a  heroic  boy  by  placing  the  truth  where  history  will  find  it — in  the  par- 
liamentary history  of  the  country  ;  where  tlie  future  veracious  historian  will  look  for  his  mate- 
rials. As  for  Hrevet  Lieutenant-Colonel  limory,  if  he  feels  the  credit  of  his  journal  and  the 
honor  of  an  officer  impuj^ned,  he  has  only  to  take  the  requisite  steps  for  an  investigation.  Tlic 
proofs  are  present.     Major  Gillespie,  also  brevetted,  was  there,  and  is  here  ;  others  also. 

Of  course,  General  Kearny,  in  his  official  report  to  the  Government,  makes  no  mention  of 
this  honorable  conduct  on  the  part  of  Heale  and  Pico. 

Tlie  results  of  the  astuteness  of  I'ico,  in  gix  ing  up  the  least  intelligent  of  his  prisoners,  was 
soon  visible,  and  lamentably  so,  in  the  American  camp.  Murgess  could  tell  nothing  about  tlie 
mission  to  Stockton^nothing  about  his  response  in  answer  to  Godey's  mission — nothing  about 
help ;  for  he  was  only  one  of  the  escort  for  the  personal  safety  of  Godey,  in  his  dangerous  mis- 
sion, traversing  eighty  miles  (going  and  coming)  of  insurgent  country,  filled  with  a  hostile  po|)- 
ulation,  and  rode  over  by  fleet  cavalry,  flushed  with  victory.  The  secret  of  the  mission  asking 
for  aid  was  confined  to  Godey — not  to  be  committed  to  others,  for  fear  of  multiplying  tlic 
chances  of  its  getting  to  the  knowledge  of  the  enemy.  Burgess  could  tell  nothing.  Then  it 
was  that  black  despair  fell  upon  the  .American  camp.  Without  provisions,  without  power  to 
move,  besieged  by  conquerors,  without  the  hope  of  relief — a  surrender  at  discretion,  or  death  in 
a  vain  effort  to  escape,  were  the  only  alternatives.  In  this  mournful  dilemma,  American  spirit 
rose  to  the  level  of  the  occasion.  Men  and  officers,  one  and  all,  the  unhappy  wounded  with  the 
rest,  demanded  to  be  led  forth.  All  the  baggage  was  burnt  -everything  that  would  encumber 
the  march.  The  helpless  wounded  were  put  on  ambulances.  At  one  o'clock  the  devoted  col- 
umn began  to  move — Pico,  on  the  watch,  observing  the  movement.  In  a  moment  his  lancers 
were  in  the  saddle,  mounted  on  their  fleet,  docile,  daring,  and  "  cdticateil  "  horses,  such  as  tlie 
Mameluke  never  rode.  He  was  then  in  front,  in  the  open  and  beautiful  valley  through  wliicli 
the  road  lay  down  the  river  to  San  Diego.  Suddenly  the  lancers  defiled  to  the  right — came 
round  into  the  rear  of  the  hill — halted,  and  formed  at  six  hundred  yards'  distance  :  as  much  us 
to  say,  "  We  open  the  road  to  you.  Take  it."  Then  Kearny  halted  his  column,  and  consulted  liis 
officers,  a>u{  others,  Carson  knows  who.  The  question  was,  to  go  or  not.^  The  solution  seemed 
to  depend  upon  the  possibility  of  getting  relief  from  Stockton  :  if  there  was  a  chance  for  tliat 
relief,  wait  for  it ;  if  not,  go  forward.  Stockton  was  thirty-five  miles  distant,  and  nothing  heard 
from  him  ;  for  Burgess,  as  1  have  said,  could  tell  nothing.  To  send  another  express  to  Stockton 
seemed  hopeless,  the  distance  and  dangers  were  so  great.  Besides,  who  would  venture  to  go, 
seeing  the  fate  of  Godey,  and  knowing  the  state  of  the  country?  It  was  a  moment  to  find  a 
hero  :  and  one  presented  himself.  It  was  the  lad  Beale.  It  was  then  one  o'clock  ;  the  column 
fell  back  into  camp  ;  early  dark  was  fixed  for  the  departure  of  the  daring  messenger ;  and  he  was 
asked  who  he  would  have  for  his  companion.  "  Carson  and  my  Indian  servant,"  was  the  reply. 
The  general  answered  that  he  could  not  spare  Carson — that  };enctal  \s\\o  swore  before  the  court- 
martial  that  he  had  never  seen  the  man  before  or  since  who  brought  him  Fremont's  letter  of 
the  I7tli  of  January — that  man  being  Carson  I  He  cf)uld  not  spare  him.  He  wanted  a  counsel- 
lor as  well  as  a  guide  and  a  hero.  '■  Then,"  said  Bealc.  "  no  other  can  help  me  ;  1  will  go  with 
the  Indian  servant."  General  Kearny  then  said  Carson  might  go.  Carson  has  since  told  me 
that  Beale  volunteered  first. 

The  brief  preparations  for  the  folorn  hope  were  soon  made  ;  and  brief  they  were.  A  rille 
each,  a  revolver,  a  sharp  knife,  and  no  food;  there  was  none  in  the  camp.  Cieneral  Kearny  in- 
vited Beale  to  come  and  sup  with  him.  It  was  not  the  supper  of  Antony  and  Cleopatra:  for 
when  the  camp  starves,  no  general  has  a  larder.  It  was  meagre  enough.  The  general  asked 
Beale  what  provision  he  had  to  travel  on;  the  answer  was  nothing.  The  general  called  his  ser- 
vant to  inquire  what  his  tent  atlorded  ;  a  handful  of  flour  was  the  answer.  The  general  ordered 
it  to  be  baked  into  a  loaf  and  be  given  to  Beale.  When  the  loaf  was  brought  the  servant  said 
that  was  the  last,  not  of  bread  only,  but  of  everything  ;  that  he  had  nothing  left  for  the  gen- 
eral's breakfast.  Beale  directed  the  servant  to  carry  back  the  loaf,  saying  that  he  would  provide 
for  himself.  He  did  provide  for  himself ;  and  how.'  By  going  to  the  smouldering  fire  where 
the  baggage  had  been  burnt  in  the  morning,  and  scraping  from  the  ashes  and  embers  the  halt- 
burnt  peas  and  grains  of  corn  which  the  conflagration  had  spared,  filling  his  pockets  with  the 
unwonted  food.     Carson  anrl  the  faithful  Indian  provided  for  themselves  some  mule-beef. 

The  darkness  of  night  fell  upon  the  camp,  and  the  moment  arrived  for  descending  from 


^ 


I 


1  it— in  ihe  par- 
te for  his  iiiiiti;- 
Diiniiil  ami  tlic 
istigiilion.  Tlic 
ers  also, 
no  mention  of 

s  prisoners,  was 
tiling  about  tlie 
—nothing  about 

dangerous  mis- 
h  a  hostile  pup- 
mission  askini; 

multiplying  tlic 
>thing.  Then  it 
ithont  power  to 
tion,  or  death  in 

American  spirit 
ounded  with  ilie 
would  encumber 
the  devoted  tol- 
nient  his  lancers 
rses,  such  as  the 
;y  through  wliicli 

the  right — came 
nee :  as  much  ,is 
and  consulted  liis 
;  solution  seemed 
L  chance  for  that 
hd  nothing  heard 

)ress  to  Stockton 
venture  to  go, 

loment  to  find  a 

)ck  ;  the  column 
iger  ;  and  he  was 
"  was  the  reply, 

before  the  courl- 
■mont's  letter  of 

•anted  a  couusel- 
1  will  go  with 

as  since  told  me 

cy  were.  A  rille 
iieral  Kearny  in- 

1  Cleopatra:  for 
ic  general  asked 
■al  called  his  ser- 
general  ordered 

the  servant  said 

eft  for  the  gen- 
he  would  provide 
lering  lire  where 

mbers  the  half- 

lockets  with  the 

mule-beef. 

Icscending  from 


■n 

5 


> 

f- 
y. 

c/; 


KEAJiuVY  RFJUSES  BEING  MADE  COMMANDKK-IN-CHIEF. 


5«9 


the  hill  jinH  rlcarinp  the  open  valley,  two  miles  to  the  nearest  rover.  It  was  a  perilous  descent, 
for  at  the  approach  of  ni^ht  it  was  the  custom  of  Pico  to  draw  a  double  chain  of  sentinels 
around  the  hill,  and  to  patrol  tlie  valley  with  mounted  lancers— precautions  more  vifjilaiuly 
enforced  since  he  learned  from  the  captured  men  that  Carson  was  on  the  hill.  "  He  on  the, 
alert,"  he  said  to  his  men — "Carson  is  there  ;  "  and  applyinj,'  to  Kearny's  command  one  of  the  f,^- 
urative  expressions  so  common  in  the  Spanish  lannuajje  -iv  t'Siapara  fl  Mm;  the  wolf  will 
escape  the  liimters  if  you  do  not  watch  him  close.  The  descent  was  perilous  and  piiinful,  :'ll 
done  by  crawling; ;  for  the  uprij;ht  tijjure  of  a  man  could  not  be  exhibited  where  the  horizon 
was  watched  for  all  that  appeared  above  it.  Shoe.s  were  pidled  off  to  av.iicl  crackinjj  a  stick  or 
makinp;  a  sound  which  tlie  ear  of  the  listener  pressed  upon  the  f^round  could  catch,  and  the 
naked  feet  exposed  to  the  pricklv  pear.  They  passed  between  sentinels,  wailing  and  watching; 
their  time  to  move  an  inch.  Tlu'y  heard  them  whisper  and  smelled  the  smoke  of  the  cigarilo. 
At  one  time  Heale  thought  it  was  all  over  with  them.  Pressing;  Carson's  thijjh  to  j.jct  his  atten- 
tion, and  putting  his  mouth  upon  his  ear,  he  whispered  into  it :  "  \Vc  are  j;one  ;  let  us  jump 
and  fiRht  it  out."  Carson  said  :  "  No  ;  I  have  been  in  worse  places  before,  and  Providence 
saved  me."  His  rclijjious  reliance  encoura(j;ed  the  sinkin);  hopes  of  Ikal<.'.  The  hill  cleared, 
two  miles  of  prairie  in  the  open  valley,  all  covered  with  prickly  pears,  remained  to  be  crawled 
over,  for  no  one  could  stand  upright  without  detection  where  the  mounted  vedette  and  the  hor- 
izontal view  of  the  recumbent  sentinel  observed  every  object  that  rose  above  the  level  jilain. 
Clear  of  the  valley,  and  gaining  the  first  woods,  they  travelled  all  night  without  shoes,  having 
lost  them  in  the  dark.  Rocks,  stones,  pebbles,  prickly  pears,  thereof  exuberant  growth,  were 
their  carpet.  At  c'.iylight  they  took  a  gorge  of  ;  mountain,  and  laid  by,  for  movement  by  day 
was  impossible  to  them  ;  the  whole  country  was  on  the  alert,  animated  to  the  highest  by  the 
success  over  Kearny,  and  all  on  the  search  for  fugitives.  At  nightfall  the  expedition  was  re- 
sumed and  within  twelve  miles  of  San  Diego  the  three  adventurers  separated,  each  to  take  his 
chance  of  getting  in,  and  thus  multiply  chances  for  getting  relief  to  Kearny  ;  for  San  Diego 
also  was  surrounded  and  invested,  and  Stockton  had  not  a  horse  diavieg  sent  all  to  Kearny)  to 
scour  the  country  a  furlong  in  front  of  his  infantry  pickets.  The  Indian  got  in  first,  Heale 
next,  Carson  third,  all  in  a  state  of  utter  exhaustion  ;  and  Heale  only  getting  into  town  by  the 
help  of  the  men  (picket  guard)  who  carried  him,  and  with  injuries  from  which  he  has  not  yet 
recovered.     They  found  Stockton's  relief  in  the  act  of  setting  out. 

On  the  1 2th  day  of  December  Lieutenant  (Jray,  with  General  Kcarnj- 
and  what  remained  of  his  party,  were  reported  in  sight  from  the  fort  on  the 
hill  at  San  Diego.  It  is  illustrative  of  a  sailor's  habitual  disuse  of  his  legs 
that  in  his  report  of  Kearny's  arrival  Commodore  Stockton  makes  pointed 
notice  of  the  fact  that  there  was  no  horse  for  him  to  ride,  because  he  had 
sent  them  all  with  Captain  Gillespie  to  General  Kearny,  but  that  he  walked 
out  to  meet  them.  General  Kearnv  and  his  otfieers  were  received  with  all 
the  kindness  and  attention  that  their  situation  demanded,  and  given  the  best 
t|uarters  that  the  town  afforded.  After  General  Kearny  had  been  made 
welcome  and  comfortable  in  his  quarters.  Commodore  Stockton  offered  to 
make  him  commander-in-chief  over  his  entire  force  and  go  with  him  as  his 
aide-de-camp.  He  said  no.  That  the  force  was  Stockton's,  and  that  he 
woulJ  go  as  his  aide-de-camp,  or  accompany  him.  This  offer  was  a  few 
days  afterward  formally  repeated  in  presence  of  all  the  ofHcers  that  could 
be  spared  from  duty,  and  again  declined.  Commodore  Stockton  wished 
Kearny  to  understand  that  he  was  willing  to  waive  all  question  of  the  right 
to  the  chief  command,  in  the  circumstances,  and  give  all  power  into  his 
hands.     Subsequently,  and  whilst  still  at  San  Diego,  General  Kearny  inti- 


I 


59° 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


%V- 


m 


i 


3  1 


1. 


mated  to  StcMcton  that  he  thought  he  ought  to  be  the  governor  of  the 
(crritory,  under  his  instruetions.  Surprised  at  this  demand,  the  eommo- 
dore  reminded  Kearny  that  he  had  more  than  onee  offered  to  plaee  him  at 
the  head  of  affairs  m  CaHfornia,  but  that  he  had  as  often  refused.  The 
subject  was  argued  between  them  upon  the  point  of  right,  General  Kcarn}- 
relying  upon  his  instructions.  To  this  Commodore  Stockton  replied  that 
the  language  of  the  instructions  was,  "  Should  you  conquer  the  country, 
you  will  establish  a  civil  government  ;  "  but  that  he  had  conquered  the 
country  ;  that  he  had  established  a  ci\il  government  therein,  which  gov- 
ernment was  in  successful  operation  at  the  moment  throughout  the 
territory,  except  at  Santa  Barbara  and  Los  Angeles,  where  it  had  been 
interrupted,  temporaril}-,  by  the  insurgents  ;  that  all  that  the  Government 
had  ordered  to  be  done  had  alre;id}'  been  accomplished  ;  that  nothing  re- 
mained to  be  done  ;  that  he  had  informed  the  Government  of  these  tlunjrs  ; 
and  that  he  had  stated  to  the  Government  that  he  intended  to  appoint  jNIajor 
Fremont  governor  of  the  territory  and  Captain  Gillespie  the  secretary. 
The  argument  ended  without,  apparently,  disturbing  the  amicable  relations 
of  the  two  officers,  but  the  refusal  to  recognize  his  claim  to  be  governor 
rankled  in  Kearny's  mind  and  guided  his  conduct. 

About  the  2  2d  of  December  Captain  Ilensley  arrived,  by  land,  with  a 
convoy  of  horses  and  cattle,  which  he  succeeded  in  drixing  into  San  Diego 
through  the  insurgent  parties  that  wcro  still  engaged  in  cutting  off  com- 
munication from  the  town  with  the  interior.  After  some  ineffectual  at- 
tempts to  land,  he  iiad  disembarked  at  San  Domingo,  about  two  hundred 
and  forty  miles  down  the  coast  of  Lower  California.  In  landing,  two  boats 
were  swamped,  with  the  loss  of  seven  or  eight  rifles,  several  pistols,  blan- 
kets, and  cl(jthing  of  the  men.  They  succeeded  in  getting  about  one  hun- 
dred and  forty  head  of  horses  and  mules,  some  saddles,  and  three  hundred 
head  of  cattle,  which  belonged  to  Seiior  Bandini,  to  whose  mstructions 
Ilensley  was  indebted  for  any  success  at  all. 

These  supplies  met  the  absolute  necessities  of  the  hour,  and  Conmiodore 
Stockton  set  vigorously  to  work  in  his  preparations  for  the  march  towards 
Los  Angeles.  In  the  disposition  of  the  horses  Captain  Turner  was  offered 
his  choice  for  the  dragoons,  but  after  looking  them  o\-er  he  replied  as  fol- 
lows : 

San  Diego,  December  23,  1846. 
CoMMODoRK  ;  In  compliance  with  your  verbal  instructions  to  examine  and  report  upon  the 
condition  of  the  pul)lic  horses  turned  over  to  me,  for  the  use  of  C  Company,  First  Dragoons,  I 
have  the  honor  to  state  that,  in  my  opinion,  not  one  of  the  horses  referred  to  is  fit  for  dragoon 
service,  being  too  poor  and  weak  for  any  such  purpose ;  also,  that  the  company  of  dragoons 
under  my  command  can  do  much  better  ser\ice  on  foot  than  mounted  on  those  horses. 

I  am,  sir,  with  high  respect,  your  obedient  ser\ant, 

H.   S.   TukNKK, 
Captain  First  Dra^'oois,  Cdiiinianifiiit^  Company  C. 


KEARNY  WANTS  TO  BE  GOVERNOR.  591 

Meanwhile  Commodore   Stockton  continued   his   preparations  for  the 

rch 
letter 


march  towards  Los  Angeles.     About  this  time  he  received  the  following 


San  Diego,  December  22,  1846. 
Dear  Commopore  :  If  you  can  take  from  here  a  sufficient  force  to  oppose  the  Californians 
now  supposed  to  be  near  the  Pueblo  and  waiting  for  the  approach  of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Fre- 
mont, I  advise  you  to  do  so,  and  that  you  march  with  that  force  as  early  as  possible  in  the 
direction  of  the  Pueblo,  by  which  you  will  either  be  able  to  form  a  junction  with  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Fremont  or  make  a  diversion  very  much  in  his  favor. 

I  do  not  think  that  Lieutenant-Colonel  Fremont  should  be  left  unsupported  to  light  a  battle 
upon  which  the  fate  of  California  may,  for  a  long  time,  depend,  if  there  are  troops  here  to  act 
in  concert  with  him.  Your  force,  as  it  advances,  might  surprise  the  enemy  at  the  Saint  Louis 
Mission,  and  make  prisoners  of  them. 

I  shall  be  happy,  in  such  an  expedition,  to  accompany  you,  and  to  give  you  any  aid,  either 
of  head  or  hand,  of  which  i  may  be  capable. 

Yours  truly, 

S.  W.  Kearny,  Brigadier-General. 
To  Commodore  Stockton, 

Commanding  United  States  Forces,  San  Diego. 

To  which  Commodore  Stockton  replied  as  follows  : 

Headquarters,  San  Diego,  December  23,  1846. 
Dear  General  :  Your  note  of  yesterday  was  handed  to  me  last  night  by  Captain  Turner, 
of  the  dragoons. 

In  reply  to  that  note,  permit  me  to  refer  you  to  the  conversation  held  with  you  yesterday 
morning  at  your  quarters.  I  stated  to  you  distinctly  that  I  intended  to  march  upon  St.  Louis 
Roy  as  soon  as  possible  with  a  part  of  the  force  under  my  command,  and  that  I  was  very  de- 
sirous to  march  on  to  the  Pueblo  to  co-operate  with  Lieutenant-Colonel  Fremont ;  but  my 
movements  after,  to  St.  Louis  Rey,  would  depend  entirely  upon  the  information  that  I  might 
receive  as  to  the  movements  of  Colonel  Frt3mont  and  the  enemy.  It  might  be  necessary  for 
;iu>  to  stop  the  pass  of  San  Felipe,  or  march  back  to  San  Diego. 

Now,  my  dear  General,  if  the  object  of  your  note  is  to  advise  mc  to  do  anything  which 
would  enable  a  large  force  of  the  enemy  to  get  into  my  rear  and  cut  off  my  communication 
with  San  Diego,  and  hazard  the  safety  of  the  garrison  and  the  ships  in  the  harbor,  you  will 
excuse  me  for  saying  I  cannot  loUt.v  such  advice. 

My  purpose  still  is  to  rn.irch  for  ?^t.  Loui';  Any  as  soon  as  I  can  get  the  dragoons  and  rifle- 
men mounted,  which  I  hope  to  do  in  two  days. 

Faithfully,  your  obedient  servant, 

R.  F.  Stockton, 
Comm  tndcr-in-C/i iff  and  Gcniernor 

of  the  Territory  of  California. 
To  Brigadier-General  S.  W.  k'earny, 

United  States  Army. 

This  letter  brought  the  following  : 

San  Diego,  December  23,  1846. 

Dear  CoMMonoKE :  I  have  received  yours  of  this  date,  '•epcatiiig,  as  you  say,  what  you 
stated  to  me  yesterday,  and  in  reply  I  have  only  to  remark  that,  if  I  hiut  s';  understood  you,  I 
certainly  would  not  have  written  my  letter  to  you  of  last  'iveninif 

You  certainly  could  not  for  a  moment  suppose  t'lat  I  wuild  .advise  or  suggest  to  you  any 
ino\ement  which  might  endangci  the  safety  of  the  gi.rrison  and  the  ships  in  the  harbor. 


r 


i  J 


592 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


My  letter  of  yesterday's  date  stated  that  "  if  you  can  take  from  here,"  etc.,  of  which  you 
were  the  judge,  and  of  which  I  itnew  nothing. 

Yours  tri"'", 

S.  vV.  Kearny,  Brigadier-General. 
Commodore  j\.  F.  Stockton, 

Commanding  United  Stales  A^avy,  etc.,  San  Diego. 

The  troops  were  about  starting  for  San  Luis  Rey  and  Commodore 
Stockton,  as  he  himself  described  the  occasion,  was  about  mounting  is 
horse  when  General  Kearny  came  to  him  and  inquired  who  was  to  com- 
mand the  troops.  In  reply  the  commodore  told  him  that  Lieutenant  Rowan, 
first  lieutenant  of  the  Cyaiie.,  commanded  them.  General  Kearny  gave 
him  then  to  understand  that  he  would  like  to  command  the  troops  himself; 
and  after  some  further  conversation  Commodore  Stockton  agreed  to  give 
him  the  command  which  he  asked  for.  Lieutenant  Rowan  was  sent  for, 
and  the  officers  near  at  hand  assembled  and  informed  that  the  commodo.e 
had  appointed  General  Kearny  to  command  the  troops,  but  that  he  himsc  if 
retained  his  own  position  as  commander-in-chief.  Accordingly,  under  this 
arrangement  the  troops  moved  out  of  the  town  and  took  up  the  line  cf 
march  for  San  Luis  Rey,  about  forty  miles  distant  from  San  Diego. 

Leaving  them  on  their  march,  I  return  to  myself  and  my  ship,  which  I 
left  shut  cut  of  sight  in  the  fog,  boggling  her  uncertain  way  along  the 
rocky  coast. 

This  happened  to  be  one  of  the  severe  winters  on  the  western  coast. 
The  snow  fell  deep  in  the  mountains,  and  in  the  low  country  travelling  in 
large  bodies  of  men  was  made  hard  and  difficult  by  prolonged  easterly 
storms,  during  which  ;old  rains  flooded  the  country.  This  was  the  winter 
of  the  Donner  disaster;  snows  had  already  barred  the  passes  of  the  Sierra 
Nevada,  when  that  party  reached  the  pass  at  the  head  of  the  Salmon  Trout 
River. 

I  had  left  a  large  band  of  horses  and  some  artillery  in  the  Sacramento 
valley.  These  I  sent  for,  and  I  commissioned  Mr.  William  II.  Russell, 
who  had  arrived  in  August  from  Missouri  with  a  party  of  emigrants,  and 
was  a  man  of  standing  in  that  State,  to  return  into  the  valley  with  the  pur- 
pose of  enlisting  men  for  the  battalion.  Originally  from  Kentuck}',  he  had 
served  in  its  Legislature,  and  was  an  active  friend  of  Henry  Clay.  Hav- 
ing been  United  States  Marshal  in  Missouri  and  several  times  in  its  Legis- 
lature, he  had  a  large  acquaintance  with  its  people  He  had  served  in  the 
Florida  war,  and  had  been  on  a  board  of  visitors  to  West  Point,  appointed 
by  President  Van  Buren,  and  was  in  many  ways  well  qualified  to  be  suc- 
cessful among  the  emigrants,  to  most  of  whom  he  was  personally  known. 
Meantime,  the  resources  of  Monterey  and  the  neighborhocnl  were  ex- 
hausted in  procuring  material  for  the  equipment  of  the  battalion. 


.,  of  which  you 
ier-General. 


Commodore 
nounting  is 
,  was  to  com- 
enant  Rowan, 
Kearny  gave 
roops  himself; 
igreed  to  give 

was  sent  for, 
le  commode.'' 
:hat  he  himscif 
gly,  under  this 
up  the  line  cf 

Diego. 
ly  ship,  which  I 

way  along  the 

western  coast. 

ry  travelling  in 

llonged  easterly 

was  the  winter 

,cs  of  the  Sierra 

Salmon  Trout 

.he  Sacramento 
lam  H-  RvisscU, 

emigrants,  and 
;y  with  the  pur- 
lentucky,  he  had 
fry  Clay.  H-'^v- 
nes  in  its  Lcgis- 
lad  served  in  the 

'oint,  appointed 

ilitied  to  be  sue- 
1-rsonally  known, 
l-hood   were   ex- 

talion. 


THIRD  EXPEDI    (ON.—FLOKES'   WELL-COXSIDERKD  PLAN. 


593 


Among  the  residents  of  Monterey,  to  whom  I  was  indebted  for  much  use- 
ful aid,  was  Mr.  William  Swasey.  He  was  a  young  American  of  education 
and  handsome  presence;  at  tliis  time  consular  secretary  to  Mr.  Larkin, 
and  from  the  knowledge'  his  position  gave  him  he  was  able  to  be  of  unusual 
service.  He  had  become  familiar  with  the  personal  history  of  many  Cali- 
fornians  and  with  the  resources  of  the  locality  where  he  lived,  which  came 
to  me  now  in  direct  aid;  and  when  he  was  on  my  staff  as  assistant  com- 
missary of  subsistence  his  activit}'  and  steady  good  temper  smoothed  out 
many  a  difficulty.  He  rendered  to  the  country  in  that  time  the  willing 
service  which  young  men  give  to  the  cause  which  excites  their  enthusiasm, 
and  to  me  he  has  always  been  a  loyal  friend. 

Since  the  outbreak  at  Los  Angeles  the  northern  country  had  remained 
quiet.  Don  Manuel  Castro,  the  former  Prefect  of  Monterey,  had  broken 
his  parole,  and  had  been  appointed  by  Flores  commander-in-chief  in  the 
north,  with  Don  Francisco  Rico  and  Don  Jesus  Pico  as  his  lieutenants. 
Flores'  plan  of  campaign  was  to  confine  our  naval  forces  strictly  to  the  sea- 
ports which  they  held  under  the  guns  of  their  men-of-war;  the  Californians 
meanwhile  to  hold  possession  of  their  whole  interior  country,  leaving  the 
fate  of  California,  as  an  integral  part  of  the  Mexican  territory,  to  be  de- 
cided by  negotiation  between  the  two  governments  at  the  close  of  the  war. 
This  was  the  mode  of  settlement  referred  to  by  Admiral  Sir  George 
Se3'mour  in  his  instructions  to  the  English  consuls,  and  of  which  he  gave 
notice  to  Commodore  Sloat.  The  plan  which  Flores  adopted  was  well  con- 
sidered and  naturally  suggested  by  the  circumstances  of  the  country  where 
the  business  was  stock-raising  and  all  the  men  herdsmen  and  horsemen, 
llis  intention  was,  to  make  it  impossible  for  the  Americans  to  move  from 
their  ships,  by  driving  all  the  stock  into  the  interior;  and  to  secure  this  end 
he  udopLcd  stringent  measures,  which  otherwise  were  easily  carried  into 
fffc  -t  ia  die  midst  of  a  friendly  population,  themselves  most  deeply  con- 
c.  r\i>.:'  .A  having  it  done. 

Ag.  I'.st  iio  navui  force  only,  his  plan  would  have  been  easily  success- 
ful, but  w  became  impossible  when  in  addition  he  had  against  him  the 
active  force  of  my  command,  which  cut  his  plan  at  the  root  and  turned  it 
against  himself.  I  had  at  m\-  back  the  constantly  increasing  emigrant 
force,  and  the  mountains,  which  I  knew  better  than  himself. 

At  Monterey  Governor  Alvarado  and  some  other  officers  had  stood  to 
their  parole.  Don  Pablo  Noriega,  who  was  among  the  most  influential  and 
' .  the  most  able  of  the  Northern  California.is,  had  been  unreasonably  im- 
i>  SI  ned  in  order  to  paralyze  his  influence.  He  had  been  educated  in  the 
Uni!,:u  States  and  had  too  much  intelligence  to  engage  in  an  attempt  which 
lie  knew  to  be  fruitless  of  good  consequences,  in  any  possible  issue  of  the 
war.     Don  Manuel  Castro  had  been  drawing  together  any  force  possible 


«!!mi 


if 


I 
1 


\l 

(■ii: 
\\      1 

^        i 

1 

594 


MF.MOmS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FRtlMONT. 


I 


under  the  circumstances,  with  the  object,  probabl}',  of  getting  in  a  stroke  in 
some  unguarded  spot,  but  beyond  uncertain  and  contradictory  rumors,  I 
had  heard  nothing  of  him.  In  the  night  of  the  i6th  Tom  Hill  and  another 
Delaware  from  the  Columbia  River  arri\ed  at  Monterey,  with  news  from 
the  San  Juan  valley.  Charles  Burroughs,  in  command  of  some  thirty-tive 
men,  enlisted  for  the  battalion  and  ha\ing  in  charge  the  tine  band  of  horses, 
for  which  J  had  sent,  had  reached  the  San  Juan  Mission  the  day  before,  fol- 
lowed shortly  after  by  another  part}-  of  about  equal  strength.  Their  arrival 
with  the  horses  was  quickly  reported  to  Castro,  who  was  moving  from 
Soledad.  On  the  night  of  the  15th  his  scouts  had  found  Mr.  Larkin  at  the 
house  of  Don  Joaquin  Gome/,,  at  the  foot  of  the  Ga\ilan  peak.  That  day 
the  consul  had  left  Monterey  for  San  Francisco,  and  had  halted  for  the 
night  at  the  house  .■  '  -;-•  -i;>z^  where  he  was  captured  by  this  party  during 
the  night  and  taken  tL  ro,  who  was  '-"(vnvp-'i  on  the  Monterey  River. 

Through  the  capture  of  !  .arkin,  Captain  Burroughs  learned  of  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  Calif ornian  troop,  and  in  the  morning  of  the  i6th  sent  a 
squad  of  men  over  into  the  Salinas  valley  to  ascertain  its  strength  and 
position.  This  reconnoitring  party  was  of  ten  men,  two  of  them  emigrants, 
George  Foster  and  James  Ilaycs;  of  the  eight,  six  were  Wallawallah  hidi- 
ans  and  the  remaining  two  Delawares,  Tom  Ilill  and  James  Salmon — all 
from  the  Columbia  River.  I  give  the  names  as  far  as  I  know  them,  for 
their  signal  bravery  against  heavy  odds  deserves  it. 

Meanwhile,  Castro  was  cautiously  advancing,  having  his  scouts  well 
spread  out  in  order  to  be  instantl}-  advised  of  an}-  movement  by  Burroughs 
from  San  Juan,  or  by  me  from  Monterey.  \\\  the  afternoon  they  came  upon 
Burroughs'  scouts,  some  eight  of  whom  retreated  to  cover  in  the  Encinal — 
a  low  ground  co\ered  with  t)aks — the  other  two  riding  back  to  let  Bur- 
roughs know  of  the  Californians'  approach.  These  eight  brave  men  for  a 
full  hour  hetl  their  ground  in  the  Encinal  against  the  whole  Californian 
force,  numbering  about  one  hundred  and  thirt}-  men.  ^Ir.  Larkin,  who 
had  been  brought  along  and  was  present  during  this  unequal  encounter, 
writes  of  it  that  he  "  was  several  times  requested,  then  commanded  to  go 
among  the  oaks  and  bring  out  his  countr}  men,  and  offer  them  their  lives 
on  giving  up  their  rifles  and  persons.  He  at  last  offered  to  go  and  call 
them  out,  on  condition  that  they  should  return  to  San  Juan,  or  go  to  Mon- 
terey with  their  arms;  this  being  refused,  he  told  the  commnnding  officer 
to  go  himself."  At  this,  an  oMicer  crept  on  his  hands  and  knees  in  the 
grass  to  get  a  fair  \iew,  but  instead  r<.'ceived  a  ball  in  his  bod}-  and  was 
carried  off  on  a  horse  by  a  companion.  At  the  end  of  an  hour  Burroughs, 
with  his  available  force  of  about  fifty  men,  came  in  sight  and  with  his 
appearance  relieved  the  brave  men  who  were  beleaguered  in  the  Encinal. 
Burroughs'  men  were  new  to  discipline  and  not  properly  subordinate,  so 


THIRD  KXPEDITION.— CAPTAIN  BURROUGHS  SHOT. 


595 


n  a  stroke  in 
ry  rumors,  I 
and  anotlicr 
th  news  from 
lie  thirty-tivc 
md  of  horses, 
ly  before,  fol- 
Tlieir  arrival 
moving  from 
Larkin  at  the 
k.     That  day 
lalted  for  the 
;  party  during 
jnterey  River. 
I  of  the  neigh- 
e   I 6th  sent  a 
,  strength  and 
lem  emigrants, 
lUawaUah  Indi- 
es Sahnon — all 
enow  them,  for 


that  he  lost  the  benefit  of  their  rifles  and  gave  the  advantage  to  the  Califor- 
nians  by  a  disorderly  charge. 

My  gra}'  horse,  Sacramento,  was  with  the  band  I  had  sent  back  for, 
and  Captain  Burroughs  was  mounted  on  him  when  the  charge  was  made, 
and  was  shot  through  the  body  at  the  outset,  but  the  horse  wheeled  from  an 
attempt  to  seize  him  and  carried  his  rider  back  among  his  own  men.  The 
tight  lasted  less  than  half  an  hour,  the  Californians  dropping  out  of  it  in  small 
parties,  until  the  Americans  onh'  remained  on  the  field.  They  had  lost 
Captain  Burroughs,  and  two  others  killed,  and  several  wounded.  Captain 
Foster  was  killed  in  the  Encinal.  The  Californians  lost  three  killed  and 
se\en  wounded.  Their  small  loss  shows  how  heedlessly  the  action  was 
fought  on  our  side. 

In  the  morning  after  Hill's  arrixal  I  marched  out  of  Monterey  across 
the  Salinas  plain  to  San  Juan,  where  I  made  my  camp,  to  wait  for  the  re- 
inforcements from  the  valle\-  and  get  otherwise  ready  for  the  march  to  Los 
Angeles.  I  scoured  the  countr}-  in  search  of  any  remaining  parties  of  Cas- 
tro's force,  but  they  had  all  taken  flight  and  settled  down  again  on  ranches 
around  about,  or  in  the  mountains. 

I  have  dwelt  a  little  on  this  action  in  the  Salinas  plain,  partly  because  it 
is  due  to  the  men  who  fought  it  and  to  those  who  fell,  and  partly  to  show 
what  good  fighting  material  the  emigrants  made.  The  men  who  took  to 
the  cover  of  the  oaks  in  the  Encinal  were  mountaineers  and  woodsmen. 
Fearless,  and  accustomed  to  rel}'  on  their  good  rifles,  knowing  how  to  flght 
and  to  take  advantage  of  ground,  they  stood  off,  for  more  than  an  hour,  the 
whole  Californian  force  of  one  hundred  and  thirty  men. 

I  defer,  for  the  present,  giving  the  roll  oi  my  battalion,  but  I  pause  to 
say  that  onh'  in  the  emergencies  which  call  out  the  best  men  could  any  four 
hundred  be  collected  together  among  whom  would  be  found  an  equal  num- 
ber of  good,  self-respecting  men  as  were  in  the  ranks  and  among  the  officers 
of  the  companies  and  of  the  staff  of  this  corps. 

Many  of  the  men  in  my  command  were  splendid  fighters,  and,  hand- 
ling them  as  I  knew  how  to  fight  them  and  giving  them  the  advantage  of 
ground  as  I  had  learned  how  to  do  it,  the  reader  can  judge  how  much  reason 
there  was  in  Kearny's  fear  that  I  too  would  be  defeated,  or  how  much  I 
needed  a  sailor's  advice  how  to  manage  ni}'  woodsmen.  There  was 
no  point  on  the  line  which  I  chose  for  my  march  from  San  Juan  to  San 
Fernando — no  camp  by  night — wl.ere  T  could  have  been  taken  at  disadvan- 
tage. The  advantage  of  ground  was  always  on  my  side.  I  had  always  the 
timber,  or  the  brush,  or  the  broken  ground  of  the  hills;  and  in  an  encounter 
tiic  defeat  of  the  Californians  was  easih'  certain,  and  at  great  loss  to 
them.  A  good  commander  spares  his  men.  He  fights  to  win,  and  to  do 
this  his  head  is  the  best  weapon  at  his  command.     The  plan  of  Flores  was 


.:  W 


\'  \ 


I 

I 


596 


MEMO/US  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 


'Ml 


11 


to  convert  all  California  into  a  guerilla  war  field;  of  all  kinds  of  warfare  the 
mos':  harassing.  A  French  writer,  speaking  of  General  Iloche  and  the  war 
in  the  Vendee,  says:  "Soldiers  great  in  their  profession  never  enter  hut 
with  repugnance  upon  the  field  of  irregular  warfare;  as  practised  swords- 
men do  not  like  to  cross  steel  with  a  resolute  novice  whose  unregulated 
violence  disconcerts  all  the  combinations  of  art." 

The  3kill  which  wins  without  fighting  is  never  appreciated  as  is  the 
battle,  with  what  Wellington  called  "  the  butcher's  bill,"  and  which  precau- 
tion might  have  averted. 

Lieutenant  Louis  McLanc,*  of  the  navy,  who  had  volunteered  for  the 
battalion,  was  sent  with  the  artillery  to  Gilroy's,  where  he  was  engaged  in 
mounting  it. 

On  my  way  up  the  coast  from  Los  Angeles  in  September  I  left  ten 
men  at  Santa  Barbara.  This  was  done  at  the  request  of  the  citizens  of 
the  town,  who  thought  they  would  feel  safer  with  even  a  small  guard  of 
Americans  in  the  event  of  some  disorder.  Theodore  Talbot  was  one  of  the 
party  and  in  chirge  of  it.f  The  men  with  him  were  Thomas  Breckenridge, 
Eugene  Russell  (son  of  Mr.  William  II.  Russell),  Charles  Scriver,  William 
Chinook,  an  Indian  lad  from  the  Columbia  River,  John  Stevens,  two  French 
Creoles,  Durand  and  Moulton,  Francis  Briggs,  and  a  New  Mexican  named 
Manuel.  Except  Moulton,  Durand,  and  Manuel,  they  were  all  about  twenty 
years  of  age.  Shortly  after  I  had  left,  news  of  the  insurrection  reached 
Santa  Barbara,  and  the  little  garrison  were  assured  they  would  be  attacked. 
I  tell  the  story  of  their  escape  in  their  own  words. 

The  ladies  of  Santa  Barbara  gave  them  the  first  intimation  of  danger 
and  urged  them  to  escape,  and,  when  they  refused,  offered  to  conceal  them. 
In  a  few  da\'s  a  mounied  force  of  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  appeared,  with 
a  written  summons  from  Flores  to  surrender,  with  promise  to  spare  their 
lives  and  let  them  go  on  parole;  and  two  hom-s  were  allowed  for  them 
to  decide.  It  was  then  near  dusk.  The  American  residents  in  Santa 
Barbara  came  in  and  recommended  them  to  surrender,  saying  it  was 
impossible  to  escape.  One  of  them,  named  Sparks,  of  St.  Louis,  said 
that  at  the  fire  of  the  first  gun  they  might  count  him  one;  he  afterwards 
joined  me. 

They  determined  not  to  surrender,  but  to  make  their  way  to  the  moun- 
tains, a  spur  from  which  came  down  to  the  town.     In  about  half  an  hour 

*  His  father  was  at  that  time  Minister  to  England  ;  himself  at  present  Minister  to  France. 

f  It  will  he  remembered  that  I  left  Mr.  Talbot  in  charge  when,  on  two  occasions,  I  separated  from  my 
party  in  the  Great  Basin.  He  had  been  witli  me  on  two  occasions,  and,  though  young,  had  a  sense  of  respon- 
sibility. His  father  was  a  United  States  Senator  from  Kentucky,  and  his  mother  an  English  lady,  and,  now 
a  widow,  was  among  our  friends  in  Washington.  In  1847  he  was  made  a  lieutenant  of  artillery  in  the 
United  States  Army,  and  was  with  Major  Anderson  at  Sumter,  and  the  last  officer  permitted  to  leave  the 
fort  with  despatches,  in  April,  1861. 


\IT. 

;  warfare  the 
and  the  war 
•er  enter  but 
liscd  swords- 
unregulated 

ted  as  is  the 
jvhich  precau- 

teered  for  the 
as  engaged  in 

ibcr  I  left  ten 
the  citizens  of 
;mall  guard  of 
was  one  of  the 
Breckenridge. 
:river,  William 
:ns,  two  French 
Mexican  named 
ill  about  twenty 
ection  reached 
Id  be  attacked. 

ition  of  danger 
conceal  them, 
appeared,  with 


SEVERE  MARCH  FROM  SAN  JUAN  TO  LOS  ANGELES, 


597 


to  spare 


their 


owed  for  them 

idents  in  Santii 

saying   it   was 

St.  Louis,  said 

;  he  afterwards 

ay  to  the  nioun- 
,ut  half  an  hour 


France. 
5,  I  separated  from  my 
Ihadasenscof  respon- 

lEnglish  lady,  and,  now 

lanl  of  artillery  in  the 

permitted  to  leave  the 


they  started — the  moon  shining — and  soon  approached  a  small  picket- 
guard.  This  gave  way  and  let  them  pass.  They  then  gained  the  moun- 
tains and  relied  on  their  rifles  to  keep  off  both  men  and  cavalry.  On  the 
mountain  they  stayed  eight  days,  in  sight  of  Santa  Barbara,  watching  for 
some  American  vessel  to  approach  the  coast.  They  suffered  greatly  for 
want  of  food,  and  attempted  to  take  cattle  or  sheep  in  the  night,  but  for 
want  of  a  lasso  could  only  get  a  lean  old  white  mare,  which  was  led  up  on 
the  mountain  and  killed,  and  all  eaten  up.  Despairing  of  relief  by  sea,  and 
certain  that  they  could  not  reach  me  in  the  north  by  going  through  the  set- 
tled country,  they  undertook  to  cross  the  mountains  nearly  east  into  the 
San  Joaquin  valley,  and  through  the  Tulare  Indians.  Before  they  left 
their  camp  in  the  mountains  the  Californians  attempted  to  burn  them  out 
by  starting  fires  on  the  mountain  around  them,  and  once  sent  a  foreigner  to 
urge  them  to  surrender.  The  enemy  did  not  often  venture  near  enough  to 
be  tired  upon,  but  would  circle  round  on  the  heights  and  abuse  them. 
When  they  had  any  chance  of  hitting  they  fired,  and  once  saw  a  horse  fall. 
It  took  them  three  days  to  cross  the  first  ridge  of  the  mountains,  during 
which  time  they'  had  nothing  but  rosebuds  to  eat.  The  ascent  was  so 
steep,  rocky,  and  bushy,  that  at  one  time  it  took  them  half  the  night  to 
gain  some  three  hundred  yards;  after  crossing  the  first  mountain  they  fell 
in  with  an  old  Spanish  soldier  at  a  rancho,  who  gave  them  two  horses  and 
some  dried  beef  and  became  their  guide  over  the  intervening  mountains, 
about  eighty  miles  wide,  to  the  San  Joaquin  valley.  They  followed  that 
valley  down  towards  the  Monterey  settlements,  where  they  joined  me ;  being 
about  thirty-four  days  from  Santa  Barbara  and  having  travelled  about  five 
hundred  miles.  When  the  battalion  passed  through  Santa  Barbara  their 
old  acquaintances  there  were  glad  to  see  them.  They  had  been  thought  all 
dead ;  the  bones  of  the  old  mare  found  at  their  camp  being  taken  to  be 
theirs  and  all  that  remained  of  them  after  the  fires  had  burned  them  out. 
Tlie  people  of  Santa  Barbara  generally,  and  the  compassionate  ladies 
especiall}',  showed  real  joy  at  seeing  them  alive  and  treated  them  hospitably 
while  the  battalion  halted  at  the  town. 

Working  and  waiting  for  the  reinforcements  from  the  valley,  the  weeks 
passed  on  until  the  end  of  November,  when  we  moved  out  from  San  Juan, 
und,  halting  a  few  days  for  oin-  supply  of  beef  cattle,  took  up  the  line  of 
march  for  Los  Angeles.  Our  route  lay  up  the  San  Benito  River,  and  thence 
over  the  hills  into  the  Salinas  valley\  The  march  was  made  under  difficult 
circumstances.  Winter  weather  and  cold  rain-storms  for  days  together  ; 
the  roads  and  trails  muddy  ;  the  animals  weak  for  want  of  food  ;  the 
strength  of  the  old  grass  washed  out  b}-  the  rains,  and  the  watery  new 
grass  without  sustenance.  Many  of  the  horses,  too  weak  for  use,  fell  out  by 
the  way  and  were  left  behind,  and  part  of  the  battalion  were  soon  on  foot. 


ill 
'  m 


\ 

M 


,  Hi  ■! 


598 


MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FR^MOXT. 


rii 


I*  ^ 


Attacliod  to  the  battalion  was  a  compaii}-  of  Indians  ;  some  Wallawal- 
lahs  and  a  few  Delawares  from  the  Cohmibia  River,  the  rest  Indians  from 
the  Sacramento.  These  were  to  act  as  scouts  under  the  command  of  L'ap- 
tain  Richard  Jacob,*  of  Louisville,  Kentucky.  Regularly  during  the  march 
a  part  of  this  company  encamped,  without  tires,  one  to  three  miles  in  ad- 
vance of  the  battalion  ;  the  other  part  about  the  same  distance  in  the  rear  ; 
so  that  no  tra\eller  on  the  road  escaped  falling  into  our  hands. 

The  battalion  numbered  about  four  hundred  and  thirty  men.  Their 
only  provision  was  the  beef  which  was  driven  along,  but  this  was  good,  and 
the  men  were  in  fine  health.  Cold  weather  and  the  exposed  marches  gave 
wholesome  appetites.  Perfect  order  was  maintained  on  the  march  and  in 
the  camp,  and  private  property  was  respected  absolutely.  No  man  left  the 
camp  without  a  pass,  .nnd  the  column  passed  over  the  country  without  giv- 
ing reasonable  cause  for  complaint  to  any  Californian. 

In  such  a  march,  it  may  be  supposed,  there  was  no  superfluity  of  bag- 
gage, and  the  men  rode  or  walked  in  the  rain  and  slept  wet  at  night,  but 
there  was  surprisingly  little  complaint  and  no  disorder.  As  always,  there 
were  in  the  command  some  men  who  were  useless  and  some  who  were 
worse,  but  these  were  kept  under  watchful  eyes,  and  gave  little  trouble.  In 
the  forepart  of  the  day  of  the  14th  December  I  encamped  on  the  mountain 
near  San  Luis  Obispo.  In  the  afternoon  I  went  with  William  Knight  to  a 
point  on  the  hills  which  overlooked  the  mission,  and  watched  for  awhile, 
but  in  the  distance  we  could  discover  nothing  to  indicate  whether  or  not 
there  was  a  force  at  the  place.  The  night  was  rainy.  Saddling  up  after 
nightfall,  about  nine  o'clock  we  surrounded  the  mission  buildings  and  cap- 
tured the  few  people  found  there.  Some  took  to  the  roofs  of  the  mission. 
but  none  got  away.  To  avoid  turning  the  people  out  of  their  houses  in  the 
stormy  w^eather,  I  quartered  the  battalion  in  the  mission  church,  putting  a 
regular  guard  over  the  altar  and  church  property.  We  found  in  the  town 
some  frijoles  and  other  vegetables,  and  crushed  wheat,  which  were  bouglit 
and  distributed  among  the  men  by  way  of  luxuries. 

Upon  information,  I  sent  men  around  the  neighborhood,  and  in  all  some 
thirty  men  fell  into  our  hands,  among  them  an  officer  who  had  been  wounded 
at  the  Encinal,  and  Don  Jesus  Pico,  who  was  at  the  head  of  the  insurrection 
in  that  quarter.  Don  Jesus  had  broken  his  parole,  and  was  put  before  a 
court-martial  and  sentenced  to  be  shot. 

Among  the  papers  seized  here  was  an  original  despatch  from  General 
Flores,  by  which  we  learned  of  the  action  at  San  Pasqual,  but  it  made  no 
mention  of  the  officer  commanding  on  the  American  side. 

The  hour  for  the  execution  of  Don  Jesus  Pico  had  arrived  and  the  bat- 


*  Afterwards  Lieutenant-Governor  of  Kentucky  and  son-in-law  of  Senator  Benton. 


Bl 


DON  JESUS'   WIFE  AND  CHILDREIN  PLEAD. 


599 


talion  was  drawn  up  in  the  plaza  in  front  of  my  windows.  The  rough  trav- 
elling had  put  the  men  in  bad  humor  and  they  wanted  to  vent  it  upon  some- 
thing. They  looked  upon  Pico  as  in  part  cause  of  their  hardships  and 
wanted  to  see  him  die.  Don  Jesus  was  about  to  be  led  out.  The  door  of 
my  room  was  abruptly  opened  by  Captain  Owens,  who  showed  in  a  lad}-  in 
black,  followed  by  a  group  of  children.  They  were  the  wife  and  children 
of  Pico.  She  had  prevailed  upon  Owens,  who  was  kind  as  well  as  bra\e,  to 
bring  her  to  me.  On  entering,  the  lady  threw  herself  on  her  knees,  she  im- 
ploring the  life  of  her  husband,  the  children  crying  and  frightened.  "  lie  did 
not  know,"  she  said,  "  that  he  was  committing  such  a  crime.  He  went  with 
the  hijos  del  pais  to  defend  the  country  because  he  was  ashamed  to  stay 
behind  when  the  others  went  to  fight.  He  did  not  know  it  was  so  wrong." 
I  raised  her  from  her  knees  and  told  her  to  go  home  and  remain  quiet,  and 
I  would  presently  let  her  know. 

I  sent  Owens  to  bring  me  Don  Jesus.  He  came  in  with  the  gray  face 
of  a  man  expecting  death,  but  calm  and  brave,  while  feeling  it  so  near.  I  le 
was  a  handsome  man,  within  a  few  years  of  forty  ,  with  black  eyes  and 
black  hair.  I  pointed  through  the  window  to  the  troops  paraded  in  the 
square.  He  knew  why  they  were  there.  "  You  were  about  to  die,"  I 
said,  "  but  your  wife  has  saved  you.     Go  thank  her." 

He  fell  on  his  knees,  made  on  his  lingers  the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  said  r 
"I  was  to  die — I  had  lost  the  'ife  God  gave  me — you  have  given  me 
another  life.     I  devote  the  new  life  to  you."     And  he  did  it,  faithfully. 

Don  Jesus  was  a  cousin  of  Don  Andres  Pico  who  commanded  at  San 
Pasqual,  and  was  married  to  a  lady  of  the  Carrillo  family.  When  the 
march  was  resumed  he  accompanied  me  and  remained  with  me  until  I  left 
California,  always  an  agreeable  companion  and  often  rendering  me  valuable 
service — perhaps  sometimes  quite  unknown  to  m^S'-lf. 

Contracting  space  requires  me  here  to  pass  li^  ily  over  incidents  of 
the  march,  beyond  the  Mission.  On  Christmas  cac  we  encamped  on  the 
ridge  of  Santa  Ines  behind  Santa  Barbara.  The  morning  of  Christmas 
broke  in  the  darkness  of  a  southeasterly  storm  with  torrents  of  cold  rain, 
which  swept  the  rocky  face  of  the  precipitous  mountain  down  which  we 
descended  to  the  plain.  All  traces  of  trails  were  washed  away  by  the 
deluge  of  water,  and  pack-animals  slid  over  the  rocks  and  fell  own  the 
precipices,  blinded  by  the  driving  rain.  In  the  descent  over  a  hundred 
horses  were  lost.  At  night  we  halted  in  the  timber  at  the  foot  of  the 
mountain,  the  artillery  and  baggage  strewed  along  our  tr.ick,  as  on  the 
trail  of  a  defeated  army.  The  stormy  day  was  followed  by  a  bright  morn- 
ing, with  a  welcome  sun,  and  gathering  ourselves  into  an  appearance  of 
order  we  made  our  way  into  the  town.  There  was  nothing  to  oppose  us, 
and  nothing  to  indicate  hostility;  the  Californian  troops  having  been  drawn 


!,:  ! 


V:-\ 


6oo  MEMOIRS  OF  MY  LIFE— JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 

together  in  a  main  bod\-  near  Los  Angeles.     I  remained  here  some  days  to 
refresh  the  battalion  and  repair  damages.     The  gun  crews  wanted  sight 
to  their  guns,  and  to  please  them  I  had  the  guns  tried  and  sighted. 

Pending  this  delay  Don  Jesus  brought  me  word  that  a  lady  wished  to 
confer  with  nie.  He  informed  me  that  she  was  a  woman  of  some  age, 
highl}'  respected  and  having  a  strong  connection,  over  which  she  had  the 
influence  sometimes  accorded  to  women  of  high  character  and  strong  indi- 
viduality.* 

In  the  interview  I  found  that  her  object  was  to  use  her  influence  to  put 
an  end  to  the  war,  and  to  do  so  upon  such  just  and  friendly  terms  of  com- 
promise as  would  make  the  peace  acceptable  and  enduring.  And  she 
wished  me  to  take  into  my  mind  this  plan  of  settlement,  to  which  she 
would  influence  her  people;  meantime,  she  urged  me,  to  hold  my  hand,  so 
far  as  possible.  Naturally,  her  character  and  sound  reasoning  had  its  influ- 
ence with  me,  and  I  had  no  reserves  when  I  assured  her  that  I  would  bear 
her  wishes  in  m}-  mind  to  act  when  the  occasion  came,  and  that  she  might 
with  all  confidence  speak  on  this  basis  with  her  friends.  Here  began  the 
Capitulation  of  Couenga. 

With  damage  from  hard  marching  and  stormy  weather  repaired,  and 
the  men  restored  by  their  rest  in  comfortable  quarters  to  good  condition 
and  good  humor,  the  march  was  resumed  on  the  1 7th.  On  our  way  across 
the  plain  below  Santa  Barbara  a  corps  of  observation  of  the  enemy's  cav- 
alry, some  fifty  to  one  hundred  men,  hovered  about  us,  without  doing  or 
receiving  any  harm.  It  did  not  come  within  my  policy  to  have  any  of 
them  killed,  and  a  few  shots  from  our  guns  that  went  uncomfortably  near 
dispersed  them. 

There  is  a  maritime  defile  called  the  Rincon^  about  fifteen  miles  south 
of  Santa  Barbara  and  fifteen  miles  long.  A  mountain  ridge  here  skirts 
the  sea,  leaving  a  narrow  beach  floored  with  a  hard,  parti-colored  bitumen. 
The  defile  was  passed  without  opposition.  Ilere-along  we  were  tkuikcd  by 
a  gunboat,  under  the  command  of  Lieutenant  Selden,  of  the  navy,  which 
Commodore  Stockton  had  sent,  to  be  of  aid  to  me  in  some  possible  emer- 
gency. He  was  watchful  over  the  whole  sit^iation  and  prompt  to  aid  wher- 
ever he  saw  an  opening.  On  the  morning  of  the  9th  Captain  Hamlyn, 
master  of  the  Stonington^  which  had  so  useful  a  part  at  San  Diego,  came 
into  my  camp  at  '•  The  Willows,"  below  the  Rincon. 

*  I  had  retained  only  the  Christian  name  of  this  lady,  but  in  reply  to  a  letter  I  have  received  the 
following  telegram  : 

San  Luis  Ouisi-o,  California,  November  lo,  1886. 
To  Gknkral  J.  C.  Fremont,  1310  Nineteenth  Street,  lVashing;ton,  P.  C. 

Received  your  letter.    The  lady  who  urged  you  for  peace  with  the  Californians  at  Santa  Barbara  Is  Bernarda  Ruiz.    She 

died  eight  years  ago. 

J.  UK  Jesi's  Pico. 


THE  TREATY  OF  COUEXGA.— HOSTILITIES  EXDED. 


60  r 


Captain  Hamlyn  was  the  bearer  of  a  despatch  td  me  from  Commodore 
Stockton,  whom  he  had  left  at  San  Luis  Rey,  and  passing  through  San 
Diego  had  embarked  on  the  brig  Malck  Adhcl  and  huided  at  San  Buena- 
ventura, wiiich  is  at  the  southern  entrance  of  the  Rincun  Pass.  He  was  ac- 
companied by  my  friend,  Don  Pedro  Carillo,  by  whose  aid  he  had  found  an 
Indian  who  guided  them  past  the  camp  of  tlie  horsemen  who  had  been  ob- 
serving us,  and  brought  them  to  me  at  "  The  Willows." 

This  is  the  letter  which  he  brought  me  from  the  commodore: 

Camp  at  San  Lims  Rkv,  January  3,  1847. 

Mv  Dear  Cf)LONF.L:  We  arrived  here  last  night  from  San  Diego,  and  leave  to-day  on  our 
march  for  the  City  of  the  Angels,  where  I  liope  to  be  in  five  or  six  days.  I  learn  this  morning 
that  you  are  at  Santa  Barbara,  and  send  this  despatch  by  the  way  of  San  Diego,  in  the  hope 
that  it  may  reach  you  in  time.  If  there  is  one  single  chance  against  you,  you  had  better 
not  fight  the  rebels  until  I  get  up  to  aid  you,  or  you  can  join  me  on  the  road  to  Pueblo. 

These  fellows  are  well  prepared,  and  Merxine's  and  Kearny's  defeat  have  given  them  a  deal 
more  confidence  and  courage.  If  you  do  fight  before  I  see  you,  keep  your  forces  in  close  order; 
do  not  allow  them  to  be  separated,  or  even  unnecessarily  extended.  They  will  probably  try  to 
deceive  you  by  a  sudden  retreat,  or  pretended  runaway,  and  then  unexpectedly  return  to  the 
charge  after  your  men  get  in  disorder  in  the  chase.  My  advice  to  you  is,  to  allow  them  to  do  all 
the  charging  and  running,  and  let  your  rifles  do  the  rest. 

In  the  art  of  horsemanship,  of  dodging,  and  running,  it  is  in  vain  to  attempt  to  compete 
with  them. 

In  haste,  very  truly,  your  friend  and  obedient  sen-ant, 

R.  F.  Stockton. 

To  Lieutenant-Colonel  Fremont,  etc.,  etc.,  etc. 

I  understand  that  it  is  probable  they  will  try  to  avoid  me  and  fight  you  separately. 

We  entered  the  Pass  of  San  Bernardo  on  the  morning  of  the  12th,  ex- 
pecting to  find  the  enemy  there  in  force,  but  the  Californians  had  fallen  back 
before  our  advance  and  the  Pass  was  undisputed.  In  the  afternoon  we  en- 
camped at  the  mission  of  San  Fernando,  the  residence  of  Don  Andres  Pico, 
who  was  at  present  in  chief  command  of  the  Californian  troops.  Their  en- 
campment was  within  two  miles  of  the  mission,  and  in  the  evening,  Don 
Jesus,  with  a  message  from  me,  made  a  visit  to  Don  Andres.  The  ne.vt 
morning,  accompanied  only  by  Don  Jesus,  I  rode  o\  cr  to  the  camp  of  the 
Californians,  and,  in  a  conference  with  Don  Andres,  the  importa  u  i-  atures 
of  a  treaty  of  capitulation  were  agreed  upon. 

A  truce  was  ordered;  commissioners  on  each  side  appointed;  and  the 
same  day  r.  capitulation  agreed  upon.  This  was  approved  by  myself  as 
Military  Commandant  representing  the  United  States,  and  Don  Andres 
Pico,  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  Californians.  With  this  treaty  of  Couenga 
hostilities  ended,  and  California  left  peaceably  in  our  possession  ;  to  be 
tinall}'  secured  to  us  by  the  treaty  of  Guadalupe  Hidalgo  in  1848. 

Writing  from  Los  Angeles  on  the  1 5th  of  January  to  the  Secretar}'  of 
the  Navy  concerning  the  capitulation.  Commodore  Stockton  says  : 


i    M 


i! 


11 


':■  I 


14' 


i  ! 


Go  2 


MKMOJKS  01-  MY  LUE-JOHX  CHARLES  t-R^MOXT. 


i 

[i 


It  scorned  tliat,  not  beiiif^  able  to  negotiate  witli  me,  and  haviiif{  lost  the  battles  of  tl  .1 
and  9th,  lliey  mot  Coloiiol  Fntnorit  on  the  uth  instant  on  his  way  hero,  who,  not  knowinj;  wha* 
luid  occurred,  entered  into  the  capitulation  with  them,  wliich  1  now  send  to  you  ;  and,  allhiniirji 
1  refused  to  do  it  myself,  still  i  have  thought  it  best  to  approve  it.  1  am  j,;lad  to  say  tliat,  by 
the  capitulation,  we  have  'ecovered  the  gun  taken  by  the  insurgents  at  the  sad  defeat  of 
General  Kearny  at  San  Pasqual, 

And  in  a  letter  of  the  2  2cl  of  Januar}'  he  informs  the  Secretary  tint 
"  the  i'i\il  <;()vernnient  of  this  Territory  is  in  successful  operation,  that 
Colonel  Frc'mont  is  actin<(  as  governor,  and  Colonel  Russell  as  secrctarv, 
and  that  I  am  on  board  of  the  Congress  preparing  her  for  the  coast  of 
Mexico." 

With  this  event  I  close  the  volume  which  contains  that  part  of  my  life 
which  was  of  ni}'  own  choosing,  which  was  occupied  in  t)ne  kind  of  work, 
and  had  one  chief  aim.  I  lived  its  earlier  part  with  the  true  Greek  joy  in 
existence — in  the  gladness  of  living.  An  unreflecting  life,  among  chosen 
companions  ;  all  with  the  same  object,  to  enjoy  the  day  as  it  catne,  without 
thought  for  the  morrow  that  brought  with  it  no  reminders,  but  was  ail 
fresh  with  its  own  promise  of  enjoyment.  Quickly  as  the  }ears  rolled  on 
and  life  grew  serious,  the  light  pleasures  took  wing  and  the  idling  da\s 
became  full  of  purpose  ;  and,  as  always,  obstacles  rose  up  in  the  way  of 
the  fixed  objects  at  which  I  had  come  to  aim.  But  it  had  h.appeP'  >  nie 
that  the  obstacles  which  I  had  to  encounter  were  natural  ones,  an  uld 

calculate  unerringly  upon  the  amount  of  resistance  and  injury  I  shouiu  have 
to  meet  in  surmounting  them.  Their  ver}"  oppf)sition  roused  strength  to 
o\crcome  them.  The  grand  mountains  stood  out  fairly  in  their  armor  of 
ice  and  snow  ;  the  sterile  face  of  the  desert  warned  the  traveller  off ;  and 
if  he  ventured  there  it  was  with  full  knowledge  of  his  danger.  No  treach- 
ery lurked  behind  the  majesty  of  the  mountain  or  la}'  hidden  in  the  hot 
glare  of  the  inhospitable  plam.  And  though  sometimes  the  struggle  was 
hard,  it  was  an  honest  one  and  simple  ;  and  I  had  my  own  free  will  how  to 
combat  it.  There  was  always  the  excitement  which  is  never  without 
pleasure,  and  it  left  no  griefs  behind. 

So  that  all  this  part  of  my  narrative  has  been  the  story  of  an  unre- 
strained life  in  open  air,  and  the  faces  which  I  had  to  look  upon  were  those 
of  nature's  own,  unchanging  and  true.  Now  this  was  to  end.  I  was  to 
begin  anew,  and  what  I  have  to  say  would  be  from  a  different  frame  of 
mind.  I  close  the  page  because  my  path  of  life  led  out  from  among  the 
grand  and  lovely  features  of  nature,  and  its  pure  and  wholesome  air,  into 
the  poisoned  atmosphere  and  jarring  circumstances  of  conflict  among  men, 
made  subtle  and  malignant  by  clashing  interests. 


li«ii> 


I 


:  battles  of  tl  ., 
not  knowing;  \vha> 
uu  ;  and.allhinifjli 
lad  to  say  that,  by 
the  sad  defeat  of 


(P 


Secretary  thnt 
)periiti()n,  that 
II  as  secretary, 
r  the  coast  of 

lart  of  my  life 
kind  of  work, 
J  Greek  jo}'  in 
among  chosen 
carnc,  witlioiit 
s,  but  was  all 
/ears  rolled  on 
le  idling  days 
in  the  way  oi 
appen'  >  me 
s,  an  uld 

I  shoulu  have 
id  strength  to 
:heir  armor  of 
eller  off ;  and 
r.  No  trcaeh- 
len  in  the  hot 
;  struggle  was 
ee  will  how  to 
never  without 


V 


0)^ 


C/5 


"^■^^^ 


■5^" 


V      \ 


-«)_ 


.^ 


;.  I : 


ry  of  an  unrc- 
5on  were  those 
nd.  I  was  to 
iircnt  frame  of 
)m  among  the 
csome  air,  into 
:t  among  men, 


^- 


j  >-   ^'  *  /  '■■-/)/         -• -*  o, 


Hi 


/• 


'  '^HvHMrMB&SCtAuni 


i2« 


"f  / 1 


I'.'U 


\"  1'  I 


,UOr^ 


?-5l 


'^' 


-^, 


'4--^ 


rs 


11,") 


^ 


ii«) 


■i 


memam 


=r^         F-— -!■         r 


1)1) 


w 


X  \l    <-'    ^ 


MAP  SHOWING 
the  Divisions  existing  in  tlio 

WESTEHN  PORTION  OF  THE 

UNITED  STATES, 

ill  1S85. 


r  i 

ii'    ■      )      ■ 

%    .' 

1  i-  :^ 

f    , 

1  i;  1  ji  ■'  '  ];'■ 

j  1 

■  '\ 

■it    i"    |-,    f"' 

:'        M 

1 1  i> 

11  ;.|  ;: 

' 

i 

i-      1 

|: 

1            !: 

s 

i 

,:l 

m 


CHAPTRR    OI-    RKSl'LTS. 

K  ^"sons  for  thi=;  Cliaptor — i  lumboldt  :  Fvxtrncts  fruin  Cosmos  on  \";iliu'  of  Surveys,  ;uul 
Volcanic  nistiirbanccs  in  Oregon,  etc. — Aid  rendered  by  Professors  idrrcv  and 
Hall  in  Analysis  of  Collections,  IJotanical  and  fieoloirical — Notes  on  Astronomical 
Observations  by  Professor  Ilubbaid  ("apitiilatioii  of  Couenga — Completing  CJov- 
ernment  Policy  to  Conijiier  and  Cuni,  iliate. 

\Viii:n  I  laid  down  for  myself  tht;  [)hin  on  which  tiiis  nuMiioir  siioiild  be 
written.  I  thotioht  that  I  would  not  introdiic(^  anythini^  rclatins^  to  the 
scientific  work  of  the  se\eral  exptriiitions  in  whicli  I  had  l)een  c'noa.L^cd, 
hut  that  I  would  give  only  the  (!vents  aiul  incidents  th.it  make  up  daily 
life;  whether  niin(;  was  for  the  time  o\cr  uninhabited  coimtries,  where 
there  was  nature  only  to  be  descritted,  or  amonj.^  men  where  nature  and 
natural  thino;s  were  effaced,  and  only  the  acts  of  men  toward  each  other  in 
societ)-,  and  tlu-ir  eftects  upon  the  common  wellare  were  concerned.  .\nd 
I  stated  this  in  the  scope  of  the  work  as  the  purpose  with  which  I  set  out 
to  travel  aoain  oxer  the  ro.id  ot  mv  lite.  Hut  1  had  not  advanced  tar,  when 
1  found  that  in  this  wa\-  I  would  leave  unrtuorded  the  eltorts  of  man\- 
laborious  days  and  niohts,  ami  that  the  ore.it  fields  of  tl.e  prairies  would 
lose  their  true  coloring.;  and  v.iriety  of  attraction  when  I  failed  to  individu- 
ali/e  the  llowcTs,  so  manv  of  which  ha\-e  legends;  ami  the  rocks  of  tlu^ 
mountains  would  lose  their  interest  and  bt>  trodileii  over  with  me  as  onli- 
nary  j^m-ouihI,  without  an\-  particular  int-rest  to  arrest  attention.  What  they 
were,  an  1  what  their  uses  were,  and  what  their  relations  to  other  rocks  in 
distant  res^ions,  would  remain  untold  ;  an<l  they  would  occur  in  the  narrative 
as  simply  rocks,  if  the)-  occurred  at  all.  .And  in  s^Hjinij;  over  waste  rei^ions 
which  were  but  little  known,  or  not  at  all,  to  other  parts  wlu-re  people  get 
their  knowletlge  b\  reading  onl\ .  I  found  that  it  would  be  necessary  to 
give  the  relative  position  to  those  other  p.u'ts,  and  to  say  also  what  means 
I  used  to  fix  these  positions.  Then,  the  flower  ami  the  rock,  with  the  fixed 
locality,  would  together  teil  their  own  useful  story  about  soil  and  climate, 
ami  give  valuable  indications  to  men  who  travel  tor  scientific  knmvledge,  or 
to  emigrants  searching  lor  new  homes.  .And  so  thesi;  woiiltl,  in  travelling 
over  the  pages  of  the  book,  find  a  guide  to  show  them  the  way  to  the  ob- 
jects they  had  in  mind.      A  man   reading   to  tiiul  something  of  interest  in 


■),!■ 

1 

|: 

.  1  '   r 

it- 

n 

, 

1 

'  I " 

1 

ill 

1 

''V 


m 


li  i 


;.i 


,>■ 


ilft'l'MI 


II 


I'l;  ;i'i^i''i 


IMBfri^ 


604 


Af/-MO/Ks  or  MY  I iri:~fonx  chari r.s  frf.shwt. 


his  particular  scirnce  would  \\x\(\,  and  p-^rhaps  have  lively  pleasure  in  find- 
ing, that  in  the  central  ridi^es  ei"  the  Sierra  Nevada  is  the  same  gray  rock 


)f  which  his  house  is  built  on   the  shore  of  th(;  Atlantic. 


And, 


sitting  in 


some  I-'ngKsh  home,  reading  along  simply  for  the  pleasure  of  an  imagined 


trav( 


■1  th 


roii<'h  distant  sceiu.-s,  aiKUlu  r  would  he  deli>  hted  to  find  on  llu 


plains    of   the    San    Joaciuin    the    little    golden    violet      his    Shak(>spear<''s 


.o\c-in-idleiiess 


or,  on 


the  foot-hills  of  the  Sierra,  in  the  shade  of  th 


e\ cr^n't  en  oak'^.  little  fields  ^^i  ihc  triio  h'.nglish  crimson-tipped  daisy  :   and 


strai''hi\vav  home  associations  would   cluster  ro 


und 


the  i>age. 


It 


IS  true 


that 


111    the  hipse  o 


f  lime  the  face  of  these  rcLrions  has  chancfed,  hut   tlu 


chaivjc  IS  onl\  m  dei-ree 


And 


IS  in  drawiip'    toL'<'tlu'r  the  materials  tor  tliese  volume 


to  mv  mm 


1  tl 


le  men  w  lio  had  heen  witli  me  in  tlie  long  )ourne\s,  1  remi-in 


recalled 


bered  aUo  the  men  who   h.id  aided  me  in  idving  value   to  tht.-m  ;    who   h.ul 
lit  which  c.uiie  trom  vears  of  stiul\-  ami  laborious  thtiueht ; 


eiven  me  tlie  heni 


and    1  found  that  I  couKl  not  be  satisfied  to  omit  from  tlu^  record  the  re- 
sults, however  small  might  be  their  contribution  to  knowledge.     Thoiii^di 


the\    were,  in 


fact. 


onl\   nurselin''s 


which,  uiuliT  the  culture-  of  other  hands. 


have  taken   their  h 


'TOWtll, 


.till  1 


am  not  willing  to  let  pass  out  of  si; 


dit 


and  memor\-  the  results  k^\  ye  /s  of  lal>or  under  difficult  circumstances, 
and  which  afterward  had  been  m.ide  ust  tul  by  the  perfected  knowledge  of 
'^uch  men  as  Torre)-  and  Mall,  whose  only  reward  was  in  the  delight  they 
found  in  extending  the  lontines  of  knowh^lge,  and  in  tlu.'ir  leeling  of  satis- 
faction ,it  the   reciprocated  pleasure   this  contribution  wcnild  give  to  their 


CO  ft 


fr. 


It's  in  otlvr  parts  ol  tin-  wo 


trld.      I'Or  the  men  of  science  an;  the  true 


cosmopolitans. 

So  I  ma\-  be  pardoned  if  instead  of  some  incidents,  which  indeeil  are 
onl\-  the  ripple  on  the  stream  of  events,  1  retract  the  promise  I  made  ;!t 
the-  outset,  and  give  the  closing  pages  of  this  \olume  to  the  useful  results 
of  the  time,  the  record  of  wh'ch  precedes  and  tills  it. 

ne  of  appendix  that  which  is  not  an 


.\nd  1  do  not 


I !  k  ( 


to  c;i!l  b\-  the  n.u 


appeiulage,  Ijut  the   result   of  ton-going  thoiiglu   and   etiort,  (lowing  fr 


oin 


these  and  part  of  them  a 


S    ( dllM't 


|uenc(-s,  not  ajjpended  to  them.    .And  th.it 


may  c(;rtainly  be  <  ailed  "  ,1  ch.ipter  of  results,"  which  c(mtains  as  con- 
se(iuences  the  a[)probation  of  Iluml)oldt;  the  Capitulati(m  of  C'ouenga, 
which  completed   th(-  j)olic\- of  the  (io\'ernment   to  "  conciuer  and  concili- 


at(; 


and  th(-  fruits  of  nian\-  da\s  of   l.ilior  and  e.xpos 


posure  wlucli  Had  we 


nigh  worn  out,  lieart  .iiul  body,  the  men  who  <-.-ere  striving  to  reach  them. 

A'i'li- af  f<a,;i- 2.\?,  tf/i-rs  ti' t>iii  I'xIriV  t. 

[!  liM(i,  l.ntcr,  niiirli  s.itisfnrtion  m  Um!  iiiiii.;  tli.U  my  (li'scnptniii  of  |).ist  \ii!i;.inii:  .iction  displ.iyed 
over  till-,  rt'gioii  h'twciii  the  Rocky  M(jiinl.uiis  .md  I'acitic  Oicm,  li.nl  ;Utr.iclc<l  tin-  mtiTcstcd  .it- 
tcniioii  of  liuinbulLit.     Ik-ciUbC  of  thib,  .iiul  bcciusc  of  ilic  inlcrisl    to  be  found  m  tlic  general 


s  as  CDfi- 
('oucni^^a, 
(1  roiicili- 
Iiad  well- 
ach  them. 


(  IIM' ri:l<  OF  KI:Sl  I.I S     lUMIiOI. PI'S  COSMOS. 


605 


view  which,  m  tli.ii  loniiittKJn,  he  gives  ol  the  western  part  of  tlie  coniinent,  I  sul)jnin  here  from 
the  "CoMiios"  the  extr.ii  t  111  «hieh  lie  makes  these  references,  mikI  in  which  mIm)  he  anticipates  the 
use  winch  aheatlv  lias  been   111. ule  ol   the   "  t^re.it  Cohimljia   River"  as  .1  channel  lor  commerce. 

J.  C.   ¥.] 


I   \  I  KM    I      I  ROM     il 


Nlla  il.i  I  (■  S    (I  l^^I()S. 


iliiis,  tli(iiii;h,  i>r(\  ioii',   til  lh<-  ( (luinifiiciMiiciit.  ot  ilu:  iiinetcentli  ct:n- 
ahitmlc  had  licfn   han Kiiclricallv  taken  ia   ihc  whole  of 


tnr\ ,  not   .1  sm;. 


New  Spain,  the  h\  [isoni''lrir,il  anil,  in  nto-^t  ( .ist-s  also  astronnmical  ohst-rva- 
tioiis  tor  thirty-two  [ilacis  in  the  iiir<(liiin  troni  north  In  south,  in  ,1  /oiu^  of 


iiearlv  sixteen  ami  oiiclialt  ilc'r<( 


)t    l.ltltlK 


ween  the  town  ot  Santa 


!• 


I-  and  til'-  i-.tiiital  <>l 


M 


'•Mil  1,  na^  <•  hiin  .11  roiii'iiisneil 


We  t 


ins  se( 


that 


the   surl.iee   ol    tin 


Uli 


•v.iti- 


l>l.nn  o 


r  M 


I'Mco  .issunies  an  undul.itiiii 


torin  \'.u'\in.'  in  ih''  eciUn-  Irmn  ",Sv>  t( 


■01 1  ted  in  hei-'ht. 


iiiirtinii  III  till'  road  Irmn   r.irras  to 


Ail 


ini|U''ri  liir  is  ex  I'll  1  HI'' 


I  he  lowest 
thousand  and 


SI 


xt\-si\  \rri  hi^dnr  th.m  thr  iii'^hcU  |ioint  ot  W'suvi 


lis. 


If 


■re, It,  lhoU''h  iiciUle 


>w(.-1Iiiil:'  01 


th 


whosi:  luL;liest  portion 


w  I-  h.n f  just   Mirv(;ved 


aiul 


whii  h   iroin   south  to  north,  Iroin   tht;  tropic 


:al 


•  irt  to  til- 


ill 


i.irailcis  ol  .\2    .iml  4.1 


increases  in  extent  trotii  east  to  west 


th;t    the  (  ireai    l'>.edn,  we-,tw,ird    nl  the  -'reat  Salt  Lake   of  the  Mormons, 


h.is  a  ih.vneter  ol  n[iw.iril   nl  tliree  huiulre 


aiii 


1   forty 


;eoi;rapliu:al   miles, 


with  a  me.m   elewuinn  ol  ne.ir!\-   live  thousand  eij^ht  hundred   fee-t,  differs 
\erv  eonsideralilv  Irom    the    r.imn.irtdike    iiu)untain  chains    1)\-  which    it  is 


surinoiin 


ted. 
.f  1 


(  ); 


aiowieil 


III   this   conlii'iiralion    is   one   ot   the    c 


hief 


jioints   ot  r  remont  s  ^;re,it  lupsmnet 


VIC 


in\-estiL',ations    in    the  years  i.S.p 


ami 


IS,,.,. 


Ins  ^welliii'. 


it  the 


->oll 


on'js  to  a  dittereiit 


h  troni 


that 


ate   upluMval  which  we  c,iil   nu)untain  cluiins   and  svstenis  ot  \aried  ilirec- 


tion. 
luiah 


.At   tl 


le   point   where,  .loout 


.Uitude,  the  mountain   mass  o 


fCh 


ua,  according  to  the    presi'iit  settlement    ot  the  l)oti 


im 


l.iries,  enters  the 


western   territory  ot  the  I'nited  States  1  in   the   provinces  t.iken  troin  Me.K- 
ic(A,  it  hcjiiis  to   he.ir  the  not    very  detuiite   title   ot  the  Sierra  Madre.      .A 

rqiie. 


decideil  l)itiirc.itioii,  howe\er,  occurs  in   th.e  neisjhhorhooil   of  Alhmjiu 


and  at  tliis  hiturcation  the  western  i  h  liii  ^tiil 
the  Sierra  Madre 


main 


t.iins  the  sjeneral  title  of 


w  hi 


the  eastern  or, inch  has  receivetl 


frt)m  latituiU 


10'  r'"*ward  (a  h"ttle  to  the  north  of  Santa  I'i'A,  from  .\merican  and  Mnsjj-lish 
travellers,  the  eiju.illy  ill-ch.>sen,  Init  now  universally  acceptetl,  title  of  the 
Rockv    Mountains.       The   two  ch.iins  torm   a  leiietheiied    \allev,  in    which 


All 


)iK|uercjiii 


S.in 


ta  1" 


ami 


,10- 


lie,  an 


1  throii''li  which  the  Rio  Cirantle 


del  Xtirte  tlo'vs.  In  l.itilude  ^'^A  ,  this  \.illey  is  closed  by  a  chain  ninninji;' 
e.ist  and  west  for  the  space  of  eii4hty-ei;.;ht  i;eoi^ra[)hical  miles,  wdiile  the 
Rocky  Mountains  extend  undivided  in  a  meridional  tlirection  as  Hir  as  lati- 
tude 4r.  In  this  intermediate  space  rise  somewhat  to  the  east  the 
Spanish  IV'aks,  Pike's  Reak  (5,800  feet),  which  has  been  beautifully  delin- 


jHIH 


M^ 


I 


H     ' 


^I'l 


■I      !! 


^Il' 

i 

t 

hI 

i  •    I' 


11  -1  :;i 


i|  '       ! 


I:;i    ■ 


'  ■ 

1 

-  li 

i'' 

!;' 

A  '■■■ 

6ofi 


mj:.\/o/a's  of  my  urr—joiix  chaki.i.s  iki:.mo.\t. 


eatftl  by  I'VliikmU,  Janus'  Peak  (  11,434  tt'ct),aiul  the  threi'  Park  Moun- 
tains, all  of  which  t'nclosc  three  deep  \alleys,  the  lateral  walls  of  which 
rise  up,  alom,"-  with  the  eastern  Loni^'s  I'l'ak,  or  Hi^;'  Morn,  to  a  heii^ht  of 
9,060  antl  ii,i(;i  feet.  On  the  eastern  boundary,  between  Middle  .uul 
Ninth  Park,  the  mount. lin  chain  all  at  onc(!  chaniL^es  its  tlirection  and  runs, 
from  latitude  41  >|  to  .\.\  ,  tor  a  distanc<-  ot  about  two  hundred  and  sixtv  .L;eo- 
grajihical  niih;s,  from  southeast  to  northwest.  In  this  intermediate  s]);ict; 
lie  the  South  Pass  <  7,490  feet),  and  the  famous  W'inil  River  Mountains,  so 
sinL,uilarly  pointeti,  together  with  P'remont's  Peak  (ki'itude  4;,  S"),  which 
reaches  the  height  of  13,567  feet.  In  the  parallel  of  4.}  ,  in  die  neigh- 
borhood of  the  Three  Tetons,  where  the  nortluvesterlv  dire(-tion  ce.ises, 
the  meridian  direction  of  tlu:  Rocky  Mountains  begins  .igain,  and  continue's 
as  far  as  Lewis  and  Cl.irki-'s  Pass,  which  lies  in  latitude  17  2'  and  longi- 
tuile  II.;  9'  30'.  l]\cn  at  this  point,  the  (  hain  of  the  Rocky  Mountains 
maintains  a  considerable  height  (5,977  iei't),  but  from  the  many  dee|)  ri\cr- 
beds  in  the  direction  of  Platlu^ad  Riv<r  (Clarke's  b'ork),  it  soon  ilecreases 
to  a  more  regular  le\  el.  Clarke's  I-'oik  and  Lewis  or  .Snake  Ri\cr.  unite  in 
forming  the  great  Columbia  River,  which  will  one  day  prove  an  important 
channel  for  commerce. 

"  .As  in  Bolivia,  the  eastern  chain  of  the  .Andes  furthest  removed  from 
the  sea.  that  of  .Sorata  (  Ji,2<S7  feet)  and  Illimani  (21,148  feet),  furnish  no 
volcano  now  in  .1  state  of  ignition,  so  also  in  the  western  part  o^  the  Lnited 
St.ites,  the  volcanic  action  on  the  coast  chain  of  (.'.ilifornia  and  Oregon  is 
at  present  ver\-  limite*!.  The  long  (hain  of  the  Rockv  Nbnmtains,  at  a 
distance  Iron'  the  shores  of  the  South  Sea  varying  from  four  hundred 
and  eighty  to  eii^lu  humlreil  gi-ograp/hical  miles,  without  any  trace  of  still 
e.xisting  volcanic  action,  nevertheless  shows,  like  the  eastern  chain  of 
Bolivia  in  the  \-aIf  of  Vucay,  on  both  ^^'i  its  slo|)es,  volcanic  ro(~k,  extinct 
craters,  .and  even  I.n  as  enclosing  obsidian,  and  beds  ofscori.e.  In  the 
chain  of  the  Ivockv  .Mountains  which  we  have  here  geographicalK  de- 
scribed in  accordance  with  the  admirable  observations  of  I'n'mont,  I".mor\', 
.Abbot,  Wisli/enus,  D.ina,  .uid  lules  .M.ircou,  the  latter,  a  ilistinguished 
geologist,  reckons  thn-e  groups  of  old  \olcanic  rock  on  the  two  slopes. 
I'or  the  earliest  notices  of  the  viilcanicity  of  this  district  we  are  also  in- 
d(.'bt<'d  to  the    in\-estigations   made   bv  l'r(-mont  sinci;  the  vcars  i.S^j  and 

i'^43."  * 

In  the  departments  of  geological  and  botanical  science  1  submitted  on 
my  return  from  the  e\[)editions  ail  my  sfx-cimens  to  Pr.  John  Torrey  ot 
New  lersey,  and  Dr.  |.unes  I  iall  of  New  \'ork.  who  kindly  ilassified  and 
arranged  all  that  I  had  been  ;it)h'  to  preserve  through  the  diftlcult  trans- 
portation and  accidents  of  tr.ivel.      Both  furnished   me  with  full  statements 

•  Hunibiililt's  Ci)->iiii)-,,  vol.  v.,  pp.  410  415. 


%  ■  1j* 


cn\rri-N  i^h  Ri:sri  is    rRor.  ■n>h'A'/:ys  sr  i7/:.]//.\ /:        r.07 

of  the  results  of  ihcir  cxiiiiiiiuilions.  'I'o  the  aiil  L^ivfn  1))'  thi;  skill  ot  Dr. 
I  Lill  I  ;un  iiulcbtccl  lor  the  discover)-  of  ;in  cKjlitic  foniKitiuii  in  the  n:L,Moa 
west  of  the  Rocky  Moiiiitiiins,  which  further  exainiiiaiion  may  prove  to  as- 
similate the  K''"'^''''k^^■  *''  ^'^''  *^'*^\\'  to  that  of  the  ( )1(1  World  in  a  rare  par- 
ticular which  had  not  before  been  disco\ered  in  cither  of  the  two  Americas, 
Ir  will  be  noticed  in  the  descriptions  of  the  neoloL,dcal  formations  j^dveii 
1)\  Dr.  11. ill  that  he  considers  the  discovery  of  the  coal  and  fossil  terns 
hich  I  ft)nnil  in  the  ridL;e  conneciini;  the  Tiah  or  IW'ar  Ri\-er  Mountains 
ith  tlu^  Wind  Kiver  chain,  to  be  of  threat  economical  importance,  as  indi- 
cating the  wide  extent  of  this  modern  coal  period.* 


w 


w 


SKETCH     OK     Till',    VE<  .  K  r.\lll,K    AND     (  ,  llol.i  h  ,  |(  A  I, 


ii\i;Ar'ri:u  01    nir.  Kr,i;ioN 


( OVKKKI)    l'.\      rilK    IlK^r    KKl'MKl. 


Uements 


nm 


The  collection  of  plants  submitteil  to  me  for  examination,  thouL,''h  matle 
ler  unfavorable  circumstanc(!s,  is  .1  \cr\-  interesliiv^- contribution  to  North 


A 


mencan 


bot. 


m 


>■■ 


'rom 


th 


le   mouth  of  the   Kansas   River  to   the  "  Kiid 


lUittes,"  on  the  North  I-'ork  of  tlu-  Platte,  the  trans])ortation  was  effected 
ii  carts  ;  but  hoin  that  place  to  and  trom  tlu;  mountains,  the  explorations 
\:ere  made  on  horseback,  and  b\'  such  r.ipid  movements  (  which  were  nei'es- 
sarv.  in  onliT  to  accomi)lish  the  objects  of  the  (.'Xixxlition  ),  that  but  little 
op|)ortunitv  was  iiMonleil  tor  collecting'"  ami  lirvini;  botanical  specimens. 
Hesiiles,  the  party  was  in  a  sa\aj4^e  and  inhos[)ital.)le  coimtr\ ,  sometimes 
annoyed  by  Indians,  and  frequently  in  L^reat  distress  tVom  want  of  pioxi- 
sions  ;  trom  which  circmnstances,  and  the-  many  pressinL;'  dutiis  that  con- 
stantly ent^-a^fd  the  attention  of  the  commander,  he  was  not  able  to  make 
so  larj^fe  a  collection  as  he  desireil.  To  i^ive  some  general  idea  of  the 
country  explored  by  Lieutenant  l'"r<.'inont,  I  reca[)itulate,  trom  his  report, 
a  brief  sketch  of  his  route.  The  expedition  lett  the  niouth  of  tin-  K.msas 
on  jime  id,  1S4J,  and,  proceetling  up  that  ri\er  about  one  hundreil  miles, 
lh<-n  continued  its  course  generalb'  along  the  "  bottoms  "  of  the  Kansas 
tiibut^.ries,  but  sometimes  passing  o\er  the  upper  [)rairies.  Tlu'  soil  of 
the  river  bottoms  is  always  ri<:h,  and  generally  well  timbered;  though  the 
whole  region  is  what  is  calh^l  a  jjrairie  countr)-.  Ihe  up|)er  prairies  are 
an  immense  deposit  ot  sand  and  gra\-el,  coxereil  with  a  good,  and,  very 
generalb',  a  rich  soil.  Along  the  road,  on  reaching  the  little  stream  called 
Saiuly  Creek  (a  tribut,ir\-  of  the  K.msas  i,  the  soil  became  more  sand\'. 
rile  rock-tormations  of  this  region  are  limestone  .md  samlstone.  The 
Antoi f)/ia  iiiurstrns  was  the  characteristic  plant,  it  being  in  many  places  as 
abundant  as  the  grass. 

*  (It  uill  Ik-  iiiiiiiul)Lii-il  tli.it  1  .III)  writing  af  miulilions  ;is  tliey  were  known  to  nu'  more  than 
forty  years  ago. J 


IH  ! 


6oS 


I  i' 


^'^ 


Ml 


M/:.\fO/KS  (ir  .]/)■  I  IFF    JOIIX  CIIAKI  l  S  FRFMOXr. 


Crossini;-  oxer  iVoin  the  watirs  of  ihi-  Kiinsas,  Liriitcn.uU  i'n'mont  ar- 
rival at  the  ( ircil  riattc,  two  luiiiilri-cl  aiul  ten  miles  from  its  junctun'  with 
the  Missouri.  The  v.illc)'  ot  this  ri\iT,  trom  its  mouth  to  the  i;r('at  forks, 
is  about  tour  laih-s  I)roail,  and  three  huiuh'ctl  and  tittee'ii  miles  lon^;.  It 
is  rich,  well  timbered,  and  eo\crrd  \\  ith  luxuriant  j^rasses.  The  purple 
Liattis  Snxriosa  and  several  ii<tris  were  here  eotispieuous  features  of  ihe 
vegetation.  I  was  pleased  to  rrcoL^ni/e  amoni,'  tlur  specimens  collected 
near  the  torks  the  tine  lar^c-llowered  asclepi.is,  that  I  described  ni. uu' 
\ears  a^^o  in  m\  account  of  |.imes'  "  l\ock\-  Mountain  I'lants,"  under  the 
name  ot  . /.  .^f'Ciii'Sii.  and  wluch  Mr.  (  ie\er  also  found  in  Nicollet's  e.Nprdi- 
tion.  It  seems  to  be  the  pl.uit  subs((piciulv  described  and  ti^ured  b\-  Sir 
\\  .  1  looker,  under  the  n.iine  of./,  /'('/c^'/rv//.  ( )n  the  Lower  I'latte,  and 
all  the  way  to  the  .Sweet  Water,  the  show\'  (./tonir  i nlci^yi folia  occurred 
in  al)undance.  brom  tlu'  bOrks  to  Laramie  River,  a  distance  ol  about  two 
hmulred  miles,  tlu:  countr\-  mav  be  called  a  sand\-  one.  TIk;  valle\-  of  tin- 
North  I'ork  is  without  timbi  r  :  but  the  ;;rasses  ,u"e  ime,  .uid  the  herbaceous 
j)lants  abundant.  (  )u  the  return  of  thi'  expedition  in  .Sei)lember,  Lieutiii- 
ant  Iriuiont  sa\s  the  whole  countrv  resembled  a  \ast  garden  ;  but  the  pre- 
vailin;^'  pLuits  were  two  ^r  three  species  ol  Iicliinitlna  (sun  flower  i.  I>e- 
tween  the  main  fork^  ot  tiie  I'latte,  V.  in  th.e  junction,  as  hij^h  up  as  Lara- 
mie's b'ork,  the  formation  consisted  of  m.u'l,  a  soft  e,irth\'  limestone,  and  a 
L^ranite  sandstone.  At  t'ae  l.itttT  pl.ue  that  sin^Milar  leu;uminous  plant,  the 
A'cntio/^/ivLi  DwnLiiia  ii\  Nuttall  was  tirst  seen,  and  then  occurn-d  ,it  inter- 
vals to  the  .Sweet  W'.Uer  River.  b'ollowin;^  uj)  the  North  bork.  Lieuten- 
ant b"r<in<jnt  arrived  at  tlie  mouth  of  the  .Sweet  Water  Ri\er,  one  of  the 
head-waters  of  th<t  Ll.itte.  .Xbove  Laramie's  b'ork  to  this  j)lace  the  soil  is 
tifenerally  sandy.  The  rocks  consist  of  linu^stone,  with  a  variety  of  sand- 
stones I'vellow,  .L,^ra) ,  and  red  ar^dllaccous),  with  compact  gypsum  of  ala- 
baster, and  Ime  coni^domerates. 

The  route  ahuii;  the  North  b'ork  of  the  Platte  afforded  some  of  the  best 
pl.uits  in  the  collection.  The  St->ii\i(>  ra/>tfo/ia,  Nutt.,  occurrtrd  in  m.-my 
place-,,  (juit'!  to  the  Sweet  Water:  Lif>piii  [zapania^  cuticifolia  ( Torr.  in 
James'  "  I'lants,  "  only  known  befort;  from  Hr.  James'  collection);  Coco- 
carpus  parvijolius,  Nutt.  ;  Iirioooitiini  parvifoliuf}!,  and  Cd-spi/osiini, 
Nutt.  ;  Shepherd ia  nr-^cntca,  Nutt.,  .uid  (ieranium  Premontii,  a  new 
species  (near  the  \\.vA  Ibutes),  were  found  in  this  ])art  of  the  journey.  In 
saline  soils,  on  the  l'pp(;r  I'latte,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Sweet  Water, 
were  collect(.'il  several  interesting-  CiiKNoroiuACK.i:.  One  ofwhicli  was  fu'st 
discovered  by  b)r.  James  in  Louie's  expedition  ;  and  althoui^h  it  was  con- 
sidered as  a  new  c^^enus,  I  diil  not  (h^scribe  it  owint;  to  the  want  of  the  ripe 
fruit.  It  is  the  j)l;uit  doubtfully  n-ferred  by  Hooker,  in  his  "  Flora  Horeali 
Americana,"  tu  Hatis.      He  had  seen  the  male  flowers  only.      As  it  is  ccr- 


;   i 


cnArrr.R  or  Rrsri/rs-rRor.  torri-vs  st.\ti:mi:.\ r.       609 

tainly  ci  wv.w  l^ciuis,  I  h;ivo  cltxlicatcd  it  to  the  cxci-'llcnt  ((iniin.uKltjr  of  tin; 
expedition,  as  .1  well-merited  cum[jliin(:m  tor  the  services  he  has  rendered 
North  American  botany. 

The  S\ve(;t  Water  V'alhiy  is  a  sandy  plain,  aliout  one  hundred  ami 
twenty  miles  lonL^,  and  Ljcnerall\-  .ihout  live  miles  broad  ;  bounded  b\  ra!\L;es 
of  _i,T.initii:  mountains,  between  which  the  valley  formation  consists,  near 
the   Devil's  date,  of  a  !/ra\ish   micaceous  santlstone,  with  marl  and   white 


clav, 


At  tl 


le  encamiMneii 


t  of  A 


U''Usi  slh  to  oth,  there  occurred  ,i  hue  white 


argillaceous  sandstone,  a  coarse  s.uidsione  or  puildinL;-stoi 


II- 


a  wnite 


calcareous  sandsiom 


A  t 


ew  nules  to  tlK;  west 


that  position,  I  .iciileiiant 


I'rt'mont  reached  a  point  where  the  sandstone  rested  iinmechateU' upon  the 
,^ranite,   which  thenceforward,   .ilonj^-  1' 


line   of  route,   alternated    with   a 


compact  mica  slate 


W 


on<f  the  Sw 


(•( 


t    \V.;t 


er,  in,m\-  intfjrestim^'  plants  were  < o 


llectc 


.11  mav 


)e  seen   b\-  an   examination   of  the   catalo^uK 


1 


WOUUl 


howi'\-ei',  mention 


th 


e  curious 


(I'.uotlu) a   Niitlaliii,    1 


orr 


aticl  ( ir. 


/; 


lOiK 


tia   /i 


(I  >!il/tl 


•/  il 


Mo( 


(  Diotis  Janata,  J^u/s/i.),  which  sei-ms  to   be  distinct  from   /:'. 
///(•r>f/fl/>s/s ///on/<i//<r,  Xutt.  ;    Ciliii pulcliclla,  I)ouL,d.  ;    Siyucio  sl>a)tio!ih 
'I'orr. 
(  Rib 


and 


ir.  ;  a   new   species,  ;uiil   tour   or   li\  <•   s| 


sneces   ot    w  ild    currant- 


cs  I)  r/cn!i»i. 


1) 


OUi 


etc 


X 


ear  the  mou 


1  ot  till    Sw 


t  W'air 


r  was 


found   the    riantu: 


o/^/i 


riopliora. 


'I 


orr 


a  species   tirst  dcscrilied  m   iin- 


Di 


aines 


Rockv  Mountain    Plant 


(  >n   the  iiiiper 


iiii.t,  ami  Ut  .u'   tne 


ui- 


\  idincr  ridije,  wert;  collected 


several   si)ecies  ot  cas 


////«■ 


Ptntsteinoii  Dii- 


( I  ant  ha,  Xutt.  ;  several  ,!,y;///<///.v  ,"  the  pretty  little  And  rosace  oniiicutalis, 
Xutt.  ;  -So/ii/ai^o  tncana,  lorr.  and  (ir.,  and  two  species  oi  (■n'oi^omuu,  one 
of  which  w.is  new. 


(  )n  .AuL'^ust  Sth,  the  exnl 


orm: 


part}- 


crossec 


tl 


w.  tli\  KliiiL''  rul^'c  or  pass, 


and  found  the  soil  of  the  i)lains  at   the  toot  of  the  mountains,  on   the  west- 

I'Vom  I-aramie's  l-Ork  to  thisj)oint,  ditierent  s[)ecies 


ern  side,  to  i>e  sand\' 


o 


f  Artemisia  were  llur  i)revailinj^' ami  characteristic  plants;   occu[)yin_i^  the 
place  of  the  t^rasses,  and  tillim,'  the  air  with   the  odor  iA  camphor  and   tur- 


peiltim 


A I 


oiu 


Little   Sand\-,  a   triiiutar\-  <W'  tlie  Colorado  ot   tl 


W 


est. 


ere   collected  a  new  species  oi /^/laca  (/'.  dij^ifata)   and   J\niiassia  f: 


III- 


>iata. 


On  the  mornin<j  of  AuL''iist  loth  they  ent(.'retl  the  detlles  o{  the  Wind 
River  >b)unt.iins,  a  spur  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  or  Xorthern  Amies,  ami 
amont,''  which  they  spent  about  eit^dit  days.      On  the  bortlers  of  a  lake,  em- 


losomed  in  one  ot  the  iletiU 


•s,  were  coiiec 


wA  Scdiim  rhodiola,  DC.  (which 


had  been  found  before,  south  of  Kot/ebue's  .Souml,  only  by  Dr.  bmies)  ; 
Soucio  liydropliilus,  Nutt.  ;  WicciniuDi  itli^inosum  i  Hctitla  Qlandulosa, 
and  B.  occidottalix.  Hook.  ;  FJcag)iu^  ari^oitca,  a\m\  Shcphctdia  Canaden- 
sis.     Some  of  the  hi;,^dier   peaks  of  the  Wind  River   -Nhjuntains  rise  one 


II 


I 


;  ;  e! 


i  illii! 


$10 


,l//;.l/('/A'\  (>/    ,!/)•  I  Il-I   -  lOII  \  (IIANII.S  IKIMOXi: 


I  !■' 


\ 


\\ 


m 


thousand  ti:ct  al)i)\i'  the  limits  ct  [x  r|)ctiial  snow .  Lirutcnant  I'Vi'mont, 
altnulcil  1)\-  tour  of  his  uicii,  a-^ciMulcil  one  o'  the  lottiirst  peaks  on  Auv^ust 
I  5lh.  ( )n  this  he  t'ouiul  tlu'  siiowlim-  twcK  •  llious.md  tuc  hundred  Icct 
aI>o\  ('  ihr  h'\  rl  ot  the  sea.  Ihr  \  ('lactation  ot  \.h<-  mountains  is  trulj-  Alpine, 
(Muhracinj^  a  considerahh-  uuniher  ot  species  eonunon  to  holli  heniisplieres, 
as  well  as  some  that  are  peiuliar  to  North  America.  ( )("  the  ioriner,  Lien- 
tenant  hri-mont  collected  /'/i/rnw  <! //>/>>  it  w  ;  (\xyr/,r  rt->///(i>m:\  ;  Irroiiliii 
alpina  :  several  species  of  .wi/rv  :  L  <//  r  \  att  aid  ;  (  .  />(i;//ii(i  ;  and,  inune- 
diately  below  the  Hn<- ot  perpetual  conj4;elation,  .S'/A  v/t- </(,/////\- and  /'•>/,;),(i//. 
I'lnn  (WruIcitD!  -1.  I  look.  .\monL^  the  Alpine  pl.uits  peculiar  to  the  Western 
Hemisphere,  there  were  t'ound  (ht'op/iiLi  n/yrii/o/ia  .N'utt.  ;  .h/uii,riu 
cn'fitUa,  Torr.  :  rcdicitlaris  surrecla.  Bent'..  ;  Pulmonaria  (iliatu,  [ames; 
Si/tiic  /hinnnioni/ii,  llook.  :  Mcnzicaia  cnipctriformis,  I'otottilla  r;tit/7i\-, 
I)oui^l.  ;  several  species  ot  />i>nts  :  /■'ra^eid  s/>ritos<t,  llook.  ;  Podvi titluon 
dcitiatu))!,  llodk.  :  riilox  niuscoidis.  Nutt.  :  Soiccio  /•'>t'»i<>niii\  n.s|).,  Torr. 
and  tir.  ;  tour  or  ti\e  iis/rrs,  and  I  die />,■/:/>'.'  inyrtilloidts,  M.\.  ;  the  List 
seven  or  cIl^Iu  \  er\-  near  the  snow-line.  Lower  down  tlu-  mountain  were 
found  .hni(it  tnii;i(.''f!fo/ia,  \'ahl.  :  Sntu  io  /j  ian^'uAins.  I  look.  ;  A",  suiniii- 
ihis.  IK".  ;  Miuroriixuchits  I) oxiiinudcf.  I'orr.  and  ("ii'.  :  / lilianiliclli.i  uni- 
flora,    Torr.  .uid  (ii'.  :    and  /.iiii>sv}  is  v/siii/i/Zoti.  llook. 

The  expedition  left  the  Wind  ki\cr  Mountains  ,d>out  .XuL^ust  iSih,  rc- 
turninL,^  1)V  the  s.uue  route  as  that  Iiy  wliiih  it  as( ended,  except  that  it  con- 
tinued its  course  throui^h  the  ^\  hole  length  ot  the  Lower  Platte,  .i;ii\  it;  ;  ,ii 
its  iunctit)n  with  the  Missouri  on  ()clol)er  1st. 

.As  the  ])lants  of  Lieutenant  l-'ri'mouL  were  under  exanu'nation  while  ilie 
last  part  of  the  "  I-'Uu'a  of  North  .\meric.i"  was  in  tin-  press,  nearl\-  all  t!ie 
new  matter  relating;'  to  the  Composit.e  was  inserted  in  that  work.  1  ''•- 
scriptions  ot  a  tew  ot  the  new  species  were  necessariK'  omittetl,  owin:;  to 
the  report  of  the  expedition  havin;.^r  liet-n  called  for  l>y  CoUL^n-ess  hetore  1 
could  tuiish  the  necessary  analyses  ami  comparisons.  These,  however, 
will  he  inserted  in  the  successive  numbers  uf  the  work  to  which  I  ha\e  just 
alluded. 

John  Tokrkv. 
Nkw    \'ork,  Manh,  1S.13. 


u    r 


f  :   il! 


Frc'niont, 
11  Au_i;iist 
ilrcd  tcct 
\y  Alpine, 
lisphcrt's, 
nrr,  Lieu- 
/  'noiiidi 
ml,  iinmc- 

\:  Western 
.lijuilii^ia 
'u,  James  ; 

odi'i  alhion 

I.Sp.,     1  <11T. 

.  ;  the  last 
ntain  were 
;  A',  siilniit- 
rthclUi  ii'ii- 

St  1  Sth.  re- 

thai  it  'Oil- 

,i;-ri\ir,.;  at 

n  w  liile  tlle 
arly  all  t!ie 
vork.  I  ''•■ 
1,  owiiiL;  tti 
'ss  l)et(>re  I 
,  however, 
1  have  just 

OKRKV. 


CHAPTIM  01-   KI:SL:i.TS—t  UOh\   HALLS  STA  I'EM  L.X  T.  6ii 


A     GK(n.()(.i(AL  Formations. 

Nature  of  tilt'  i^t'o/oi^ua/ forma/ ions  occu/>yi>ii^  the  portion  of  Orci^on  and 
A'ort/t  California  mclinhd  in  a  i^t'o>;;ra/>/iiial  snrz'iy  itniicr  t/w  direc- 
tion of  Captain  /•'rtniont :  by  fames  1  lall,  paLeontologist  to  the  State 
of  \eu<  )'orl:. 

The  main  i^^'OLfraphical  te-atiires  ()l"<!vory  country,  as  well  as  its  soils  and 
vcgc'tahle  productions,  depend  upon  the  nature  ot  its  geoloi^ical  formations. 
So  universally  true  is  this,  that  a  suite  of  the  rocks  prevailini^'^  in  any  coun- 
try, with  their  mi:ier.il  aiitl  fossil  contents,  will  eonvey  more  absolute  in- 
formation rejfardin;^  the  ai^ricultural  and  other  cai)abilities  of  that  country 
than  coulil  he  j^dven  hy  a  volumt!  written  without  refert-nce  to  these  sub- 
tests. Indtreil,  no  survey  of  any  unknown  rei^ion  shouKl  ho.  made  without 
at  the  same  tiiiK-  i)reser\  tnL,^  collections  of  th(,'  prevailinj.;'  rocks,  minerals, 
and  fossils.  Tlu;  attention  j^ixen  to  this  sul)j<'ct  in  the  fore!.;oini;  report 
renders  the  intormation  of  the  hij^diest  valu<',  and  perfectly  reliable  in  refer- 
ence to  opinions  or  calculations  ret^'ardini,'^  the  resources  of  the  country. 

Ihe  specimens  examineil  |)rese'nt  a  j^'re'at  variety  of  aspect  and  com- 
position ;  but  calcareous  rocks  prevail  (jver  a  larije  portion  of  the  country 
traversed  between  loni^ilmle  9S '  and  tlie  nu)ulh  of  the  Cohnnbia  River,  or 
\22  west  fron)  Cireenwich.  That  porti(jn  of  the  route  embraced  in  this 
notice  varies  in  latitude  through  seven  lU-irrees.  viz.,  38'  1045  north  ;  and 
specimens  are  ])resented  in  nearly  every  half-tlet^rree  ot  latituti  .  Such  a 
collection  enables  us  to  form  a  very  satisfactory  conclusion  r<-,irdimj[  this 
portion  of  the  countr\-,  seven  dej^n-t^s  in  width  ami  twenty-four  deiL,''rees  in 
li'iii^th  ;  havini:^  an  (rxtent  east  and  west  equal  to  the  ilistance  between  the 
Atlantic  coast  of  Xew  \'()rk  and  the  Mississippi  River,  and  lyini,'-  in  the 
temj)erat(;  latitudes  which  e.xteiul  from  \\'ashini;;ton  City  to  the  northern 
limit  of  the  State  of  Xew  N'ork. 

Althoui^di  we  are  far  from  beinLf  abU;  to  fix  the-  minute  or  detailed  .q'eol- 
n,;-y,  this  collection  presents  ns  with  sufficient  materials  to  form  some  [)rob- 
al)le  conclusions  rei^arilin:^  the  whole  rei^ion  from  this  siile  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains  westward  to  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  River.  Hut  it  is  not 
within  my  province  to  dwell  upon  the  advantatjes  opened  to  us  in  the  vast 
lield  which  the  researches  of  Captain  bVemont  have  made  known.  I  there- 
tore  proceed  to  a  description  of  the  sj)ecimens  as  they  ficcur,  takiuL^  them 
in  the  ortier  from  east  to  west.  This,  in  connection  with  the  section  of 
altitudes  on  which  the  rocks  are  marked,  will  show  the  comparative  extent 
of  different  formations. 


Longitude  90]  ,  latitude  38 J' ;    Otter  Creel-. — The  single  specimen  from 


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.t//  l/('/A'.s'  (V   .I/)-  I  !l  I    -JOIIX  VHARI  IS  /-fC /' MOXT. 


tills  Idcalit)-  is  a  yellowish,  iinpiirr  liiiu'stoiu-,  apparently  ( tintainiiiL,'  i>r_i,Mnic 
remains,  whose  structun'  is  ohlitcrattil  hy  crystallization.  Irom  its  posi- 
tion relatively  to  the  formations  l.irlluT  east.  1  am  inclined  lo  relt  r  it  to  the 
cretacemis  formation. 

lAin,L,Mtiule  ()S  ,  l.itituiK'  ;,()  ;  .S»i<>kY  /////  /\ivcr.  The  specimens  I'mm 
this  locality  are  nnmhereil  jo,  20.  31.  S.v  -I'l'l  '^•^^  1  hey  all  l>e;»r  a  simil.ir 
char.icter.  .iii'l  the  tossils  .ire  alike  in  e.w  h.  i'lie  nuk  is  ,ui  iinpiiri'  lime- 
stone, pii  tt\'  conip.K  t,  \.ir\in'.;  in  (olor  liom  ihill  \-eIli)\vish  Id  a^\\\  liiowii, 
aiul  ahoimilinL;  in  shells  of  .1  s|)e(ies  «>l  />tih,>:n'>us.      (Sec  ilescripiioii. ) 

This  rock  prohalilv  helonijs  to  the  cr<'t.iceons  lorm.ition  ;  tlu  lower  part 
of  which  has  been  imlicated  hy  Dr.  Morton  as  exteiuliii).,^  into  Louisiana, 
Arkansas,  and  Missouri. 

Although  the  specimens  from  this  locality  hear  .1  more  i  |os<'  rescm- 
l)lance  to  the  upper  part  of  the  formation,  1  do  not  teel  jnstilied  in  n  lerriii'.^ 
them  to  any  other  jieriod.  This  formation  eviilently  underlies  l.u'j^c  tr.u  ts 
of  countr\-,  and  <'\tends  lar  toward  the  base  ol  the  kocky  Mountains. 

Lont^dtude  11)5  ,  l.itituile  yt  .  I'he  sjiecimens  frcMU  this  loc.ilitv  are  a 
somewhat  porous,  lii^ht-colored  limestone,  touj^di  and  fme-iL^frained.  One 
or  two  fraL;ni(  nts  of  fossils  from  this  locality  still  indicate  the  cret.u-eons 
period;  hut  the  ahseiKeot  ,ui\  perfect  specimens  must  deter  ;i  i>ositi\e 
opinion  upon  the  f)recisi!  ai^e  ot  the  formation.  ( >ne  specimen,  howe\er, 
from  its  form,  ni.irkinL^^s,  ;uid  tihrous  structure,  I  h.ive  referred  to  the  L^enus 
/noitraiHus. 

It  is  evident,  from  the  f.icts  presented,  that  litth' of  important  ^^eolo^^ical 
chan;.^e  is  ol)ser\ed  in  travellinv;  o\<r  this  dist.ince  of  se\eii  d(q;r<es  of 
lonj^itude.  Hut  at  what  depths  hene.ith  the  surface  the  country  is  under- 
laid by  this  formation  1  have  no  data  for  decidini;.  Its  importance,  how- 
ever, must  not  be  overlooked.  .\  cdcireons  formation  of  this  extent  is  of 
the  _!L,Teatest  advantaj^e  to  a  countr;.-  ;  and  the  economical  facilities  hence 
aftbrded,  in  aL,'riculture  and  the  uses  of  ( i\ilized  lif<',  cannot  be  overstated. 

TIk-  whole  formation  of  this  reu,don  is  probably,  with  some  variations, 
.an  extension  of  that  which  pre\;iils  throuj^h  Louisiana,  .Arkansas,  and 
Missouri. 

The  strata  at  the  locality  last  mentioned  are  represented  as  beinq'  ver- 
tical, stantlini,^  a,L,Minst  the  eastern  slope  of  the  Kocky  Mountains  immedi- 
ately below  Pike's  Leak. 

Lon;.,dtude  106  ,  latitude  41  .—  At  this  point,  althout;h  only  one  des^-ree 
west  of  the  last-named  specimens,  we  find  a  total  chan^a-  in  the  .C^eolojry  of 
the  re,L,don.  'Lhe  specimens  are  of  a  reel  fddspathic  j^r.inite,  showim,''  a 
tentlency  to  decomposition  ;  and,  from  the  inlormation  accompanjiniL:  the 
same,  this  rock  overlies  a  mass  of  simil.ir  L^r.mite  in  more  advanced  stances 
of  decomposition.     The  specimens  pr<'senl  nolhiiiy   peculi.ir  in  their  ap- 


;' ! 


viiM'i'i  K  or  Ki  sri.rs~-ri<or  iim.is  siwrr.Mi'.xT. 


pcaranrc  ;  and  tlu;  only  apparent  ditTe.'rcncr  hcturcn  these  ai-.d  tlv-  ordi- 
nary red  feldspathic  ^Tanitt-s  of  more  eastern  localities  is  th(Mr  liner  grain 
anil  dingy  color. 

LongitiuU;  lo;  ,  latitude  41  A  .  The  specimens  iVoui  tliis  localitx-  ar<-  ol" 
crystalline  teldspathic  granite,  of  a  tlesh-red  color,  apparently  not  acted  on 
by  th<'  we.ither,  and  presenting  tlie  common  appearance  of  this  kind  of 
granite  in  other  !ocalitit;s. 

No.  <;5,  "above  the  third  bed  ofco.il,  in  the  lower  hill.  North  I''ork  ot' 
ri.itte  Kixcr,"  is  a  siliceous  clay  slate,  having  a  salin--  taste. 

Longitude  III),  latitude  .}i.l  ;  Nos.  (;(>  and  \^y\.  \o.  of)  is  a  tine- 
grained,  soft,  argillaceous  limestone,  of  ;i  light  ash-color,  evidently  a  mod- 
ern formation;  but,  Irom  the  absence  of  fossils,  it  would  be  ims.uisfactory 
to  assign  it  any  place  in  the  scale  ot  formations.  The  other  specimen. 
No.  104,  is  a  compact  ser|)entine,  having  the  as[)ect  of  a  greenstone  trap; 
and,  from  the  account  given,  is  prol),d>h'  int<'rstratirie<l  with  the  limestone. 
Tlu'  limestone  is  more  friabh;  .and  ch.ilkv  than  anv  sp-eciiiuMi  previously 
noticed. 

Longitude  1  ii)}  ,  l.uitudi'  4  I  l  .  '{"he  specimens  from  this  locality  are 
very  peculiar  .in  1  remark. ible.  The  tirst  is  a  triable  or  puKcnilent  green 
calcareous  sand,  unctuous  to  the  touth,  but  remaining  unaltered  on  exjxis- 
ure  to  th(^  atmosphere.  Its  character  is  very  similar  to  the  green  saiul^  of 
New  Jersey  ;  but  it  is  of  a  brighter  color  .ind  less  charged  with  iron.  The 
second  specimen  is  of  similar  com[)osition,  Iml  <[iiite  solid  Ixing,  in  f.icl.  a 
green  limestone.  'I'he  singularity  of  tlu-  specimen,  and  that,  whiih  lirsi  at- 
tracted my  attention,  was  the  et'tlorescence  of  a  salt  upon  its  surface,  which 
a[)pt;ars  to  be,  in  part,  chloride  of  sodium.  Supposing  this  to  be  acciden- 
t.il,  !  broke  a  specinu-n,  and  .alter  a  d.i\'  or  two  a  similar  efflorescence  ap- 
peared *roin  the  fresh  fr.ictiire  ;  leaving  no  doubt  but  the  salts  arise  from 
tlecoinposition  of  substances  within  the  stone  itsell. 

Longitude  i  1  i ',  latituile  .p  .V' ;  Muddy  l\i:,t.  TIk  se  s[)ecimens  art; 
of  a  yellowish-gray  oolitic  limestone,  containing  turbo,  cerithium,  etc.  1  he 
rock  is  a  perfect  oolite;  and,  both  in  color  and  texture,  can  hxarcely  be  dis- 
tinguished frt)m  s[)ecimens  of  the  Hath  oolite.  ( )ne  of  these  specimens  is 
(juite  crystalline,  and  the  oolitic  structure  somewh.it  obscure.  In  tliis  in- 
stance the  few  fossils  observed  seem  hardly  sulticieiil  to  draw  a  decisive 
conclusion  regartling  the  age  of  tht^  formation  ;  but  when  taki'u  in  connec- 
tion with  the  oolitic  structurt' of  the  mass,  its  correspondence  with  the  Eng- 
lish oolites,  and  the  modern  aspect  ot  tlu;  whole,  there  remains  less  doubt 
of  the  projiriety  of  referring  it  to  tlu-  oolitic  period.  A  further  collection 
from  this  interesting  locality  would  doubtless  develop  a  series  of  fossils 
which  would  forever  settle  the  question  of  the  relative  age  of  the  forma- 
tion. 


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A  ft'w  miU;s  up  this  stre;iin  Captain  I'rt'ninnt  has  collected  a  bcautilul 
series  of  speciineiis  ot  fossil  terns.  The  rock  is  an  'nduratcd  clay,  wholly 
destitute  of  larlumale  of  lime,  and  would  he  termed  a  "  tu'e  cl.iy."  Tlu'se 
are  probably,  j^eoio^rically  as  well  as  L;eoj;rapliically,  higher  than  the  oolite 
specimens,  as  the  ro.ks  at  this  place  were  observed  to  dip  in  the  direction 
of  north  O5  west  at  .m  anu;le  ol  twen.ly  dcL^rees.  This  would  show,  com  In- 
siveU',  that  the  xciL^ctable  rem.iins  e.icupy  a  hi^ihei-  positi(»n  than  the  oolite. 
Associated  with  these  vegetable  remains  were  lound  several  beds  of  coal, 
difterini;'  in  thickness.      The  section  of  strata  at  this  place  is  as  follows: 

ft.  in. 

.Sandstone I  o 

Coal 1  3 

Coal 1  3 

Indnr. Ued  clav,  with  veLT'-table  remains 20  o 

Clay 5  o 

Coal o  o 

Clay 5  o 

Coal 0  o 

Clay 5  o 

Coal o  o 

The  stratum  containiuL,"^  the  fossil  ferns  is  about  twenty  feet  thick  ;  and 
abf»ve  it  are  two  beds  of  coal,  each  about  fifteen  inches.  These  are  suc- 
ceeiled  bv  a  lied.  c)f  sand'-toiu'.  Helow  the  bed  cont.iiniiT^'  the  ferns  there 
are  tiiree  ilistinct  beds  of  coal,  each  separated  by  about  ti\c  feet  ot  clay. 
Hefore  e.xaminiiii^  the  oolitic  specimens  just  mentiouecl,  I  compared  theses 
fossil  terns  with  a  lari.;e  collection  from  the  < oal  measures  of  I'ennsyK  ania 
and  (  'hio,  and  it  w.is  (|uite  evident  that  this  lormation  could  not  be  ot  the 
same  age.  Theri'  are  several  s[,e(  imeus  which  I  can  only  refer  to  the 
G/osso/>/tris  Phillipsii  { se«!  description),  an  oolitic  fossil;  aril  this  alone, 
with  the  q-enoral  (  haracter  of  the  other  spci  its,  and  the  abs(  nee  of  the 
largfr  stems  so  common  in  the  i oal  period,  h.id  N  d  mi'  to  refer  them  to  the 
oolitic  period.  I  conceivt.'.  however,  that  we  have  scarcely  suttK  i<'iit  evi- 
lience  to  justify  this  refer(tnce  ;  and  thoiiL^h  amt)n_L;  the  fossil  shells  there 
are  none  decidedly  t\pical  of  the  oolite,  yet  neither  tare  they  so  of  any 
other  form.ition,  and  the  litholoL^ic.d  (  haraeter  of  tn(.'  mass  is  not  reliable 
evitiem c.  .Still,  \iewf'd  in  whate\(r  liidu  we  plc.ise,  these  fossil  terns 
must,  I  conceive,  be  ret^arded  as  mostly  of  new  species,  an»l  in  this  respc.'ct 
form  a  very  important  addition  to  tlie  flora  of  the  more  modern  feoloi^icai 
perioils. 

In  passiny;  from  this  locality  westward  to  the  Mear  River,  Captain  \'xi' 


(■//A /•77:k  (U  A'/- :<r/7\-^- /'/,•()/■:  hai i/s  s i-  \riMi:.\ r. 


(n^ 


nu'.it  (  Tdsscd  .1  lii;Mi  inoiiiitai:''  cliiiiii,  whicli  is  the  divi'lini^'  rKlL,''e  hr'twfx-n 
the  waters  of  Miidd)-  Ivivcr.  llowiiiL;  <:a.st\vard,  and  those  (.>t  Muddy  Creek, 
llowiiij;  into  Hear  River  on  the  west.  The;  '^d\)  where  the  ridi^rc.'  was 
crossed  is  stated  to  be  eio^ht  thousand  two  luindrcHl  feet  above  the  level  of 
the  sea.  In  this  ridj  e,  one  humlretl  and  fifteen  niile-s  to  the  southwanl  of 
the  Icuality  ol  the  fossils  last  mentioned,  were  collected  the  specimens 
next  tn  lie  named.  These  were  oljtained  near  the  summit  of  the  rid^*,-, 
and    probably    higher    'han    the    point    where    Captain    b'remont's    party 

cros-,ed. 

The  collection  troni  this  locality  (lon^'itude  i  i  i  ,  latitiule  40")  consists 
of  several  specimens  ol  an  art^dilaceous,  hij^hly  bituminous,  and  somewhat 
slat\'  limestone,  lo,ided  with  fossils.  K  is  \cr\'  britt'e,  and  easily  Mui\(-red 
into  small  tra!_;inents  bv  a  blow  01  the  h.iinmer.  Its  natural  color  is  a  li.ijht 
sepia,  but  it  bleaches  on  e.xposure  to  the  atmosphere.  In  structure  it  is 
not  unlike  si>me  of  the  limestones  of  the  lias  <Tr  oolite  formations.  The 
fossils  are  chif-tly  one  species  ol  cerithium  and  one  of  mya  ;  and  besides 
these,  another  species  of  cerithium  and  a  nucula  can  be  identified.  So  far 
as  I  am  able  to  .iscertain,  thes(;  fossils  are  und(;scril)''d,  and  will  therefore 
lie  re^,irded  a>  new  species. 

It  mty  be  considered  |)remature  to  decide  upon  the  i^coloL^ical  [)Osition 
of  this  mass.  It  may  belonu,^  to  the  same  period,  thout^h  tar  hii^dier  in  the 
series  than  those  in  the  same  loiiL^itutie  wh  :"h  ha\  e  just  been  descrilx'd. 
In  the  localit)'  of  the  fossil  plants  the  strata  tlip  west  by  iK^rth  ;  l)ut.  from 
the  structure  of  the  country,  it  is  evident  tnat  there  is  a  chan!L,''e  in  tlie  di- 
rection of  the  dip  before  reaching-  the  hii^'^h  ridi^e  from  which  the  specimens 
under  consideration  were  taken.  I'urther  e.x.uninaiion,  I  have  no  doubt, 
will  set  this  (juestion  at  rest. 

I  mav  here  noti  ■  tht:  interesting.,''  tact  of  tlu-  wii,le  extent  o!  these  forma- 
tions, showing;  tiie  »  istence  in  this  louLrituile  of  these  calcareous  beds, 
of  ,1  n.iture  piccisely  like  those  of  the  modt.-rn  formations  of  W'estv-rn 
Europe. 

.\  few  miles  south  o\  the  localit)'  of  these  fossil.s  Captain  bVt'mont  de- 
scribes the  occurrence  of  d^^  immense  stratum  of  fossil  s.ilt  :  and  the  same 
ridj^e  is  represented  as  bountlin^  the  (ire.it  .S.ilt  Lake.  There  would  there- 
fore seen)  no  doubt  that  the  s.ilt  in  ([ue-,ti()n  is  assuciated  with  the  sirat'. 
of  t'li  .  jieriixl,  and  prob.ibU'  coev.il  with  the  same. 

I  nKi\  rem.ii'k.  in  iIk-  s,ime  connection,  tiiat  the  surfaces  of  the  speci- 
mens containing  the  fossil  ferns  also  effloresce  ,1  s.dt,  which  is  apparently 
chloride  of  sodium.  This  fact  seem-,  to  inilicate  the  prest'uce  of  fossil  salt 
at  this  distant  e  ivrrth  <»f  the  known  locality,  and  is  a  circumstance  which 
we  natiir.illy  appropriate  as  part  of  the  evidence  of  idcrtity  in  the  age  of 
the  formations. 


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.\//:.)f(^/A'S  OF    )/)    ///•/•      /(V/.\"  (7/  /A7./.S    AAV  .!/(). \/; 
Tills  rc;^i(in  is  iin(]iu'slioiiably  one  of  tlu^  liii^lust  intrrcst,  hcith  as  re- 


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gards  Its  economical  resour 

it  will  \  it.'Kl  to  i^H'oloL^ical  siiciuc  In  the  spcciim-ns  tr. -ni  the  vc^ctalilc 
locality  1  have  been  able  to  iiulicatc  seven  or  tii^ht  s|)<'cics  ot  fossil  ferns, 
most  <^\  which  are  new.  I'urthcr  researches  will  tlouhtless  c;[reatl\-  nniltiply 
this  niiinher.  l^'sides  these,  a-  new  species  prob.ibly  pecnliar  to  our  toii- 
tinent.  The\-  luive  a  luLdur  interest,  in.isinuch  as  they  show  to  us  the  wide 
extent  and  the  nature  <it  the  \-eectation  ol  this  modern  r(yA\  period.  In  the 
broad  lields  ci|  the  West  we  shall  ha\('  an  opportunit\  ot  tiaciiiL;  it  oxir 
larjj^e  .uid  unbroken  ar<'as.  and  many  highly  interestiiiL^  results  ma\-  lollow 
its  comjiarison  with  the  vegetation  of  the  true  cirlioniferous  period. 

;\i;ain  :  since,  these  ile|)osits  ha\ c  e\  idently  been  made  o\ei-  lar'..;e 
tracts  ol  country,  it  is  not  unreasonable  to  supiio^^e  that  the  (|uaiitit\  nf 
materials  accumulated  will  be  very  ereat.  and  that  we  ina\'  exjxc  t  to  iiiid 
protitable  coabbeds  in  the  rocks  t if  this  a_ij;c.  This  subiect,  ix'sides  beiuL; 
ot  hi;^h  interest  t'>  science,  is  nt  some  pnisjiec  ti\ c  ecouomic.il  importanc<', 
though  perh.ips  too  remote  to  dwell  u|)(jii  \>hile  the  countr\-  remains  so 
little  e\plor(  d  as  at  pi'e -ent. 

Loni^itude  \\2  ,  latiludi'  .\2  .  Vhr  spei  mien  .\o.  ~:  is  a  uTiMNishdilue 
limestone,  eftlorescim.f  a  salt  upon  the  surface,  "Ironi  the  lloi  .Saji  .Sprinj^s 
ot  .Septt'inber  15,  iS.j'v  \().  loS  is  a  siliceous  limestone  of  ,1  br(i\\ir,h- 
jL,^ra\'  ci>lor;  where  exposeil  the  surfaic  bemmes  pormis,  tnun  th<'  sdlntion 
and  rem.i\al  ot  the  linn-,  while  the  siliceous  particles  remain.  Imm  the 
gen<'ral  iitholoLiical  characters  of  the  sperimeii  it  is  probablv  a  m(Mlern 
rock,  but  its  precise  a_;e  (  .niiiot  be  decided. 

1  ,<in_L,Mtude  112.  latitude  .\\!,  .  The  sin;,^le  spei  invn  from  this  locality 
is,  in  its  present  state,  ■•  ^ramilar  cpaart/."  It  is,  however,  \-ery  e\idetitly 
.m  altered  sedimeiu,ir\'  roi  k,  with  the  Imes  (it  deposition  (juite  distinctK' 
prc;.served.  Ihis  rock  probabls-  conies  out  trom  imder  the  siliceous  lime- 
stone last  described,  both  liavini,''  bi-en  altere.l  by  modern  igneous  .ution. 
'1  he  character  of  the  specimens  from  the  n<  \t  h'ialit\ — -tliree-tjuarters  ot 
a  deirree  tartlier  we,t  may  perhaps  throw  some  liL;hl  u[)on  the  present 
coiulition  (if  those  List   named. 

Lon<,,dtiide  112,'  ,  latitude  4::^  ;  <it  (/w  Ann'rican  Fuf/x  of  Snakr  River. 
—  The  collection  trom  this  point  presents  the  following,  in  a  desceniling 
order.      These  spe(  imens  art;  munbered  i;.},  96,  07,   loi,   102,  106,  and  107: 

1.  .\  botryoidal  or  concretionary  lava,  No.  94. 

2.  Obsidian,  No.    102. 

3.  X'itritied  sandstone.  No.   106. 

4.  A  whitish  ash  ( (iloicd  ih.dk  or  linu'Stone,  No.  107. 

5.  A  light  ashy  volcanic  sand.  No.  97. 

6.  lirown  saiul,  voli  anic:  (?j. 


CHArTKR  OF  RESULTS— PKOF.   IfALf/S  STATILM KNT. 


617 


These  are  all  apparently  volcanic  products,  with,  probably,  the  excep- 
tion of  Nos.  106  and  107,  which  may  be  sedimentary  proilucts.  the  first 
ait(!r(Ml  by  heat.  The  two  lower  deposits  are  evidently  volcanic  sand  or 
"  ashes  ;  "  tlu;  ii])[jer  of  tlu-sr,  or  No.  5,  has  all  the  characters  of  pulverized 
jMniiic('-stf)ne,  and  is  doubtless  of  similar  ori^dii. 

\i).  107  is  an  iin[)un'  linicslonc,  l)ul  little  h.irdir  than  common  chalk; 
and.  bill  ior  its  associations,  would  be  ret(arded  as  of -similar  ori_u;in.* 

No.  106  is  a|)parrntly  a  vitrilicd  sandstone,  the  L^r.diis  cdl  rounded  and 
th''  surfaces  of  the  mass  hiL,dd\'  polished. 

Xo.   102  is  a  l)i:autiful  black  obsidian. 

No.  (^}.  is  a  mammillary  or  botrsoidal  lava;  lln'  coiu:r(.'tions  havini,'- a 
radiale<l  slru(  lure,  the  mass  is  easily  ir.uiL^ible,  and  readily  sejjarates  into 
small  anj,ndar  frai^ments. 

Th''  whole  of  liiis  series,  with  liie  exception  of  No.  107,  inay  be  re- 
t^arded  as  of  volc.mic  oriL^dn  ;  for  the  apparently  \  itrilied  sandstone-  may  be, 
in  its  composition,  not  very  distinct  from  trap  or  basalt,  though  it  is  more 
vitreous  ,ind  its  fracture  fresher  and  brighter. 

Longiuide  \\.\\  ,  latitude  42. |i  .  The  specimens  marked  No.  3  are  of 
lighi-colored  tutaceous  limestone  and  siliceous  limestone.  The  specimens 
appear  as  it  from  some  re-giilar  lormation,  broken  up  and  thinly  coated  by 
c.dcareous  matter  from  springs,  brom  the  f.ut  observed  by  Captain  I'Ve- 
inont,  that  these  fragmt'nts  enter  largely  into  the  composition  of  the  soil, 
we  may  presume  that  the  same  is  highl)  calcareous. 

Ih''  >pei  imen  .\o.  \2,  from  the  same  locality,  ct)nsists  mainly  of  small 
tragments  ot  the  (rust,  claws,  etc.,  ol  somr  cru -tacean  probably  of  fresh- 
water origin.  There  are  also  some  vericbr.i-  and  ribs  of  fishes.  The 
who'e  is  so  uru  hangi-d.  and  of  such  recent  appearance,  as  to  iiuluce  a  belief 
that  thf  d(,'p<*sit  i-^  of  tresh-w. Iter  origin,  ,ind  due  to  the  tlesiccation  of  some 
lak*-  or  stream.  .Should  sue  h  .1  deposit  be  e.xtensive,  its  prospective  value 
to  an  agricultural  community  will  be  \\\  important  consideration.  But,  as 
before  reui.irkid,  there  is  evidently  a  prepoutlerance  of  calcareous  mattiT 
throughout  the  whole  extent  of  (nuntry  traversetl. 

Longituile  I  15.  latitude  43  .  Ilu;  specimens  from  this  locdity  .ire  num- 
bered   16,  21,  and  3y.      Nos.   16  and  2\   an    angular  fragments  of  impure 

•  Sinc'i'  Uus  w.is  \vritt<ii  :i  spccmirn  <>!'  No.  107  I1.1-.  been  suhniittcd  to  the  i\  iinination  of  I'm- 
f<  -sur  n.iiliM  ,  \vlii>  liiuls  11  iuytiiy  ili.ir^;i'(l  Willi  •'  iMlr.iri'Dij-.  polythal.mii.i  '  111  c.xcfllcnt  preserv.itioii. 
He  I'-tii.irk-i  tli.it  "tlu'  loriiis  .iri',  iii.iiiv  ut  iIkmii,  suih  .is  .iro  (criim.in  111  ch.ilk  ,irul  .  rct.lCfous 
iii.irK  ;  l)iit  .i>  tlu-si'  iorins  art-  still  livin^;  111  mirprfsi-nt  (ucaii>.  tiicir  presence  does  nm  .iiturd  con- 
I  liisivi  cMilfiKf  as  to  the  .lyc  of  the  deposit  m  whuh  thiv  occur.  I  h.ne,  however,  irnn-iably 
found  that  m  our  terti.iry  deposits  the  cli.ilk  po!)  lii.il.inu.i  are  .iccoinp.inied  by  iarye  species  of 
genera /^(«/n»^  tn  the  tertiary.  Now,  as  these  are  entirely  wanting;  in  the  specimen  from  Captain 
Kn-niont,  the  evidence,  a  far  a i  tti^ot'S,  is  in  favor  of  the  view  th.it  the  specimen  „a;iic  from  a 
cretaceuuk  (otinaliuii." 


M 


li 

il 


^ 


6is  ^fr^fo^^:s  or  .)rv  ///■/■:-  /o//\  en  \ri rs  i-KfMo.xr. 


r'ii'i# 


■I     ; 


I  ■■ 


11' 


i  'A 


limestone  of  soiiu'  rcH-cnt  gcoloi^ic.il  period,  and  No.  V)  <'onsists  of  an  af- 
qregation  oliH'hhles  and  L;iMvel.  I  he  pelihles  are  ol  black  siliccons  slat", 
which  are  represented  as  tormina;  ;i  eoiiL^loinerate  with  the  limestone  frag- 
ments just  mentioned.  The  limestone  specimens  art!  |)roI)al)lv  broken  fnii^- 
ments  from  some  str.iliim  i>:  situ  in  the  same  vicinit\-.  and  the  comdom- 
eratc  is  one  ot  \  er\'  recent  lorination.  i  he  slate  |)ebbles  ar(>  trom  a  rock 
of  much  older  date,  ,md  worn  \v\-\  round  and  smooth,  while  tlie  limestone 
liears  little  evidence  ot  attrition. 

The  L;ra\'  siliceous  liunstone  specimens  contain  a  spe<-ies  of  turrilell.i, 
and  a  small  bi\aK<'  shell.      (  Sec  descri[)tions  ami  ti;4iu-es.  ) 

Loni;itude  115.1  ,  latitude  .)-.l  ,  The  two  specimens  from  this  locality 
are  of  volcanic  (^riuiin.  No,  .\u  is  a  reiklish  compact  trap  or  l,i\a,  with 
small  nodules  or  cavities  iilK  d  with  aiialcime  ami  stilbite.  No.  52  is  a 
coarse  and  ]iorous  trap,  or  ancient  Ia\  a. 

Longitude  ii()  ,  latitude  43.I  .—  The  singi(;  specimen  from  tliis  place  is 
a  whit(;  felds[)alhic  i^ranite,  with  a  small  proportion  of  (juart/.  and  Idack 
mica  in  small  scales.  The  specimen  c(Mitainsa  sinq'le  i^arnet.  The  struct- 
ure is  soHK'what  slaty,  and  irom  appearances  it  is  rajiitlly  destructible  from 
atmos[)heric  aL;cnc\'. 

I.on^^itutle  11;,  latitude  .|.}.J,  .  These  specimens,  froni  Brule  River,  are 
numlu-red  .),   lo.  .}  i .  and  .pS. 

No.  4  is  a  slaty  limestone,  ])artially  .dtered,  probably  from  tlie  proximity 
of  ii^MVous  rocks. 

No.  .}  I  is  of  simil.u'  ( har.icter,  \iry  thinly  laminated,  and  of  a  dark 
color.  ♦ 

No.  10  is  of  similar  (diar.icter,  but  more  altered,  and  ]i,u'tially  crystalline. 
The  lines  ot  deposition  are,  however,  preserved. 

No.  .pS  has  the  appearance  ol  a  compact.  '^\'a\  fekisp.ithic  l.iva  ;  i)Ul  tht  re 
are  some  apparent  lines  of  deposition  still  visible,  which  incline  me  to  the 
million  that  it  is  an  altered  sedimentary  rock. 

Lonijitude  117.1  ,  latituile  .[;  .  The  specimen  is  a  compact,  d.irk- 
colored  bas.dt,  showing,''  .1  tend'-ncv  to  desfniamat'-  upon  tlu;  exposed  sur- 
faces.     This  ro(  k  forms  the  mountains  of  15riile  Kivcr. 

I,on;,^itude  117.J,,  latitude  .}5.l  . —  I  In-  specimen  No.  110  is  a  fine- 
t^rained  basalt  or  traj),  with  a  few  small  cells  tilled  with  aiialcime.  This  is 
of  the  rock  formini^r  the  Hlne  Mountain. 

Lon:_,Mtudf  1  iS  ,  l.ititude  .(5  .  The  sin_i;le  spei  imeii  (No.  .};,)  from  this 
localitN  is  ;ipp;irentlv  .111  altered  siliceous  slate.  It  is  maiked  by  what  a[)- 
pear  to  be  lines  I.A  deposition,  the  thin  lamin.e  beinj,^  separated  b\'  la)-ers 
of  mica. 

l-onL;itude  ikj  ,  latitude  ■^'^\  .  The  specimens  Nos.  14,  23,  45,  and 
51,  are  all  Irom  this  locality. 


i  localilv 
a\a,  with 
).  52  is   a 


cii.\rTi:R  ni-  RFsriis    pnoi-   11  ur/s  S7\\r/:\f/:\r. 


)i9 


No.   14  ajipiars   to  !)'•  a  (Iccomposcd   feldspar,  haxiiv  a  sliL,duly  porous 
Unu'iiirc;    ii  i,  \cr\'  lii'lit,  ami  aiJhcrrs  stroii^'K-  to  tlv  Inniaic. 


X. 


A  trial)l(_',  .ir^iliaccous   sainlstonc,  soin(;\viiat.  i»()rnus   iinon  tb.c 


cxposfd  surtacts. 

No.   45.  A   compart  lava    ot   a    sicnilic    structiir:j,   conlainiiiL,''  ohsitlian. 
This  spcciincii  appears  much  hki^soiiiit  of  the  porous  portions  of  trap  dikes 


WlUl 


h  cut  lhrou''h  the  sieiiitic  rocks   c^f  New  I'.U'dand. 


\ 


o.     ^1.      I'eldsp 


iv.  with   .1   little    l:)lack    11 


uca. 


Th 


e    Sll'-Cimeil     IS     l)rol)- 


il)l\'    h^om    a   ''Tauite   rock,    thou''h    its   s'ructure    is   that   of  compact   feld- 


spar. 


Longitude  ijo  ,  l.ititude  45.1  . — The  sinu;k' specimen  (No.  20J  from  this 
locality  is  a  compact.  niie-;^'^rain(;d  trap,  or  basalt,  with  a  few  round  cavities 
t)f  the  si/e  ot  pi-as. 

Longitude  120.!,  ,  latitude  ^S.J'.  Thi;  s[)ecimens  are  numbered  91,  loc^, 
and   I  I  7. 

No.  c)i  has  the  ap[)earance  of  ;i  i)orous  trap,  or  basalt,  thou_gh  [)OssibIy 
the  production  ot  a  modern  volcano.  It  is  thickly  s[)otted  with  crystals  ot 
analcime,  some  a|)parently  ses^-rcLiMi'-'d.  trom  the  mass,  and  others  tilling 
vesicul.U'  cavities. 

\o.  117  is  a  c(>mpact  basalt,  the  specimen  exhibitini;'  the  character  of 
tlie  b.is.ilt  of  the  Ibidsun  .md  Connecticut  River  .alleys. 

No.  ic-)i)  is  ,1  line-^-r.iined  i^ranite,  consistini.^  of  white  cjuartz  and  t'eld- 
spar,  with  bl.ick  mica.  C.iptain  breiuont  rem.u'ks  th.ii  this  rock  forms  the 
eastern   part    ot    the    main  C'.ililorui.i    .\b)unt,un.      1  rom    its    i^ranular    and 


r.ither  loose 


structur<-,  it  is  to  be   interred  th.it    it  wi 


)Ulil    under  '()  rai)iil  de- 


comi)ositioi.  HI  a  clun.ite  liki-  ours. 


Lonijitude    121  ,   l.ititiid''  44.1  .     The   specimer.s   iVom   this  locality  are 


numbered 


s^>-    .s-P    ,"^  "^  ■    .S' '.    s 


^i>.   :;-.   ^S 


5S,  5c),  00.  and  01.       I  111"  e  .ire  characteristic 


SpeCU 


neiis  ot  thesirat.i  lon-aiosiiii-  a  bluff  seven  lumdrtHl  leet  hiLih,  and  are 


lUimliered     n   the  de^t  endmL;   oidei-, 


I  he  specimens  50.  'mi,  and  .')i,  art-  three  specimens  ot  uh,U  a[)j)ears  to 
be  ver\  tine  cl,i\,  perteclK'  tree  ti'om  c.irbon.ite  ot  lime,  .uul  ne.u'b,  as  white 
as  orilinar\  cli.ilk.  These  threi  spnimens.  which  are  umlerstood  to  be 
troni  three  distinct  sti.ita,  \,u'\   but    -li'jluU'  in  their  characters      No.  01  be- 


in-  of  tile  liL-htest  color. 


No.    5S  is  a  specimen  of  Ljr.iyish    Milcmic  breccia,   the  lars^er    portii 


n\ 


consisting;  t>t  xoh.mii"  sand  oi"  ashes. 


N 


OS-   >5< 


50.  and  ^y ,  are  of  the   same  char.icter,  beini,'',  how  e\ cr,  nearK' 


tree  firv»ni  fragments  or  p.  Miles,  an<l  coinj.osed  ot  light  solcanic  sand,  or 
scona,  with  an  .ip|i.irenily  large  admixture  ot  clay  tri>m  the  strata  below. 
I  h<'  whole  is  not  acted  on  by  acids,  and,  so  lar  as  can  be  judged,  is  of 
vc»kaniv  orisi^in. 


I 


% 


¥ 


(|     : 


I 


I 


Mi 


' 

; 

"1 

^ 

i 


(')20 


MR.\[0!KS  OF  .!/)■  I.I  I- I'.—JOH  \  CHARLES  l-RKMONT. 


No.  58  is  of  simii.ir  ch.iract(.;r  to  I  in*  precodinL;;  thrci- specimens,  but  con- 
tains more  fragnuMUs.  and  iias  a  j^enerally  coarser  aspect.* 

LpnLjitii.le  121  ,  latitLieie  45  . — Those  specimens  are  numbered  ;,  ;s, 
40,  47,  an(i  4Q. 

No.  7  is  a  siliceous  sinter,  coated  externally  with  hydrate  of  iron. 

No.  35.  .\  reddish,  rather  conijiact  hiva.  Tlie  color  is  owini;  to  the 
prescnc"  o^  iron,  which  hastens  its  (.lecom|)osition  on  e.xposure. 

No.   40.  .\  reddish  brecciated  I'eKlspathic  la\a,  enibracinj;  rra>4inenis  <)| 
li<j;'ht-<x>liired  siliceous  sandstone  or  lava. 

Ni).  .;7.  Comj).ict  trap,  or  basalt,  with  a  few  rounded  ca\ities.  This 
St  ecimen  is  precisel\- like'  No.  20,  longitude  120";  ami,  from  the  d(^scriii- 
tion  i^ivfin,  appears  to  be  a  jirevailinL,'-  rock  aloni;  the  valley  of  the  Colum- 
bia Ki\-er. 

*  I'Ik-  bpcciiiions  Nos.  59,  60,  .tii  I  fl.  '.vhuli  ;in.-  fnun  thii'c  dittcrcnl  but  contij;uims  slr.it.i.  l,.i\i' 
since  been  oxaminoii  by  I'rofessor  J.  \V.  H.iilt'\ ,  uf  West  I'oint,  who  finds  thcni  ch.irged  with  ilu- 
vi.Uilc  infusori.i  of  rcni;irk,ibif  forms. 

licUnv  .iro  tkscnplions  i.icco'ii(),iniC(l  by  a  jil.ito)  of  snme  ■!(  the  nioiTt  intcrestin)^  fornis.  uhuh 
were  ■»kitihoil  liv  luin  with  a  camera  hicul.i  .vtl.iched  to  his  microscope.  It  li.is  not  t)ecn  idiisui- 
ereil  necessary  to  <iistinj;iiish,  particularly,  to  which  of  the  slral.i  the  iniiividiials  tiv;iire(l  behinj;,  as 
no  species  occc.r  in  one,  which  are  notpicsenl  in  the  otliers.  They  are  cviilenUy  deposits  of  tlie 
s.iine  epocli,  and  ditTer  very  shghtly  in  their  cli.iracters. 

Fij;s.  3.  J,  and  4.  Side  views  o{  I'unoti,:  hbrtU  of  i;!-,ienl)crt;.  The  species  is  tij;iircd  .ind  lic- 
hcnbed  t)y  l-^hrenbcrR,  who  received  it  fronr  Kr.U  del  Monte.  Mexico.  !t  resembles  I-IuiwHa 
Wtstcrmanui  (l-.hr.),  bit  ditTers  in  iIs  f;i,\iiulatu)ns.  The  three  tlj;ures  .ire  from  individu.ils  'ii 
li liferent  age. 

Figs.  S  and  9.  /."•|*l<7«(»,<,'«A\l  (Khr.).  —  Identic.d  wnh  a  common  fresh-w.iter  species  now  livi-.v; 
at  West  Toinl. 

Ki^.  10  /'iiDiuiarui  fKii  hvpterti  ■'  (I'lir.).- I.hrenber^'s  ti^ire  of  I',  p ,u  iiypter.i  from  l-.djradoi  is 
\ery  similar  to  the  Oregon  sjK-tics  here  representeil. 

Fi|;s.  1:,  15,  .md  17.  k\ti'nfmii  nm/'iYormc  f  (Fhr.). — These  .we  prob.ibK  merely  varieties  of 
the  same  species.     Fig.  8  is  rather  lar|.;er  than  C.  cymbiformc  usually  grows  at  West  Point. 

Kij.  19.   tii^mf<h^nima  il.iTiituni  '   ithr.).      Front  view. 

Fig.  20.   itoni/>himfmii  ,  i\i~'<»tnm  '  .Khr.!.      Side  \  iew. 

Fig.  25.   Gomphonemu  minHtissimmm  (F.hr.). — A  cosmopolite  species. 

Fig.  I.  CaUicndUi  nru-  spdifs,  u).— This  is  evident!*  idrr>tic.il  with  a  large  species  which 
I  have  described  and  figured  as  occurring  ."it  Hana's  locality.  (Sec  Silliinan's  Journal  for  Apnl. 
1845.) 

Figs.  >  and  7.  (imllwndla.  Hr-u  ^^viW  .'  fl  (.» — edge  view  ;  /■  — side  view). — This  species  presents 
reniark.ibly  compresse<i  frustulev,  >*hich  are  marked  on  their  circular  bases  with  radiant  lines. 
liMs  ;    "-ticulnrly  abundant  in  Nf.s.  j**  and  6i 

Fig.  1 1.  Gallwntlla  liiiHetHx  ''—This  vctv  minute  vpccies  constitutes  the  chief  mass  of  No.  fxi, 
but  alvi  abounds  in  Nos.  519  and  6i. 

Figs.  1^  ,ifi<i  13.  Cpi.ontii  f*irttxltt  ^Y^w.)  — Appears  tn  agree  with  a  species  from  Mexico 
fgutvd  by  Fbfenbetn;. 

F^     16.   Fra^Utaria  ■ 

Fv  iX.  Sttrtt«>Ua  -  ..  -  A  friHjmewt  only.  I  have  %een  several  Ir.-gmcnts  of  beautiful  Siin- 
retl*  .  but  have  not  yet  liJiund  a  perfect  specimen  to  figure. 

Fig.   .13.   p'r^ii.'a' ui  rfniMnfOma    '-    Fr^menl. 

Figs.  6  and  21.  -y/n^titi  ,  ifrtsh-iiMter  ^mi^fi. — Spongilla. 

Fig.   24.   Four-sided  ci  yslal  of ? 

Fig.   .'2.   Scale^   lu-iooths  of  iii;i)nnetitc  tn<ti;nihw(  equally  with  the  drawjmik 


but  con 


cc 


1 ;.  .^5. 


(Ml. 

L,''  to     till 


Ill'Mlts   nt 

S.       This 

ilcsmp- 

(•  Coluin- 

,  str.it. I,  l,.i\o 
geil  with  ilu- 

forms,  « hull 
)ccn  ccmsid- 
mI  belong,  .is 
posilb  i>t  iIk' 

urcd  and  dc- 
)lcs  Kunotia 
ndividii.ds  ot 

cs  now  livini; 

n  L.djradur  is 

y  varieties  of 
Point. 


ipccics  '.vhich 
n.d   for  Apul. 

ecics  presents 
radiant  lini-s. 

ass  of  No.  'xi, 

froni  Mcxiio 


'xi,'; 


^■- 


__^  .— .^"i-^^ 


as 


i'l 


I 


.1   .    >l 


leautiful  Suri- 


FUSS!L   FRESil    W.VTEH    'NFUoORIA   FROM   OREGON 


\  i 

\                               •' 

'  i,     1            ■' 

i  \  ■ 

:'i       ,;            i 

' 

it      ■ 

K 

iii  ?       I 

I    1 1 


CJIArri.R  OF  RESULTS— PRO  1'.   HAl.l/S  STATEMKXT. 


621 


No.  49.  An  impiTfcct  striped  agate,  with  the  centre  of  siliceous  sinter. 
This,  with  Nos.  7  ami  40,  is  doubtless  associated  with  the  basalt,  No.  47, 
which  is  the  prevailing  rock. 

l.ongitucU?  122,  latitude  45.^  ;  Cascades  of  the  Columbia  River.  —  I'roni 
this  place  are  the  specimens  nun\bered  9,  10,  13,  17,  18,  2J,  24,  25,  27,  30, 
36,  i~,  i'^,  and  .14. 

Of  thest;  specimens,  Nos.  13  ami  2.1  are  imlurateil  clay,  with  impres- 
sions of  leaves  of  dicotyledonous  pl.uits. 

No.  I  7  is  a  fme  argillaceous  sandstone,  with  stems  and  leaves,  which 
still  retain  the-ir  fibrous  structure. 

No.  30  is  a  sjx'cimen  of  dicotyledonous  wootl,  [jartially  replaceii  by 
stony  matter,  and  a  portion  still  rc'taining  the  iibrous  structure  and  consis- 
tency of  partially  carbonized  wood. 

Nos.  10,  25,  27,  and  3.S  are  specimens  of  coal  from  the  same  locality, 
(b'or  furlluT  information  of  these;,  see  analysis  of  spt'cimens  appended.) 

No.  22.  Carbonaceous  earth,  with  pebbles,  <;viilently  a  pnrc  of  the  for- 
mation to  which  the  previous  .])ecimens  are  referred. 

No.   iS  is  a  compact  trap,  apparently  having  a  stratified  structure. 

No.  36.   A  porous  basaltic  lava,  with  crystals  of  analcime,  etc. 

No.  },"].  Two  specimens — one  a  porous  or  rather  scoriaceous  lava 
of  a  reddish  coU)r  ;  and  the  other  a  com[)act  gray  lava,  with  a  tew  small 
cavities. 

No.  44.   .'\  brown  scoriaceous  lava. 

No.  44(j:.  .A  small  sjx'cimen  of  compact  lava. 

Miscellaneous  Specimens. 


.'H 


Hi 


No.  62.  A  coral  in  soft  limestone  ;  the  structure  too  much  obliterated  to 
decide  its  character.  (I'Vom  the  dividing  ritlge  between  Hear  Creek  and 
Ik:ar  River,  at  a  point  8,200  feet  above  tide- water.) 

No.  71.   Calcareous  tufa,  containing  the  remains  of  grasses,  twigs,  moss, 


etc. 


No.  Si.   Calcareous  tufa  stained  with  iron. 

No.  98.   I*"erruginous  calcareous  tufa,  containing  remains  of  twigs,  etc. 
These  three  last-named  specimens  are  evidently  the  calcareous  depos- 
its from  springs  holding  carbonate  of  lime  in  solution. 


.1 


•ii'iit 


MILMO/I^S  O/-   .1/r  ///■■/■•- /0//X  (//./A7./;.V  JA'I.MO.vr. 


B — OROANIC    RlMAINS 


l.liiMfi 


"i    ? 


-ii 


!'!,?''.'     ■;!'; 


i 


f'll^ 


Descriptions  of  ors^anic  remains  collcctcii  by  Captain  J.  C.  I'rt  niortt,  in  tlw 

i^^iOi^yaphiial  su)Vi'\  of  OrCi^on  a>id  So)  !lt  Lalijortiia  :  b\  j'anus  Hall, 
paltooiitolo^ist  to  tlic  State  of  Xcio   )o)k. 

I'l    \  I  1  s     I.     AMI     I  I. 

l'\)ssil  I'"frir  ,  vu  . 

Tlu-  specimens  her(!  described  are  all  from  one  locality,  in  loniMlude 
III  ,  latitude  41 A  .  They  occur  in  a  li,i,du-L;ray  indurated  clay,  \vhi(  h  is 
entirely  tree  trom  calcareous  nuittiT.  very  hrittle,  and  lia\ini;  a  viTy  ini|ier- 
feet  slaty  structiu-c  Nearly  all  the  species  differ  trom  an\'  descrilxnl  in 
nroiiL^niarl's  '•  Hist.  /  V;'.  hoss.!'  \x\  (io|)pert's  "  Systona  hiluion  I-'ossil- 
iuni,"  or  in  l*hilli[js'  "  (/V(>/(';'_v  0/  )'orkshi>t\" 

1.  Si  iiKNor  ri- Kis  I"'ki;miin  ni.  I'l.  2,  fiLjs.  j^,  v'-  (No.  i  i  S  of  colUx'tion.) 
Compare  sp/h-n(pterts  I  ft nu/ata  :   iWowj;.  I  list.  \'ei^.  l-'oss.,  i.,  p.  iS;,  t.  56, 

(■  :v 

Description.  T'mnd  Mpinnate  'or  tripinnate  ? ) :  richis  niodcratclv 
stron_;,^  striated  ;  pinna-  oliliipic  to  the  rachis,  ri:^id.  inodrrately  approxi- 
niatt;.  alternate:  pinnule>  suheivate.  somewhat  decurrcnt  .it  the  base,  about 
three-fjf  four-lobetl  ;  fructification  \ery  distinct  in  rcnuul  dots  (capsules)  of 
carbonaceous  matter  upon  the  mar^iins  ot  the  pinnules;  \,a,  a  portion  twict; 
magnitK-tl. 

I  ha\-e  named  this  beautiful  and  uni(iue  species  in  honor  of  Captain  I're- 
nuMit,  anil  as  a  testimony  ot  the  benefits  that  science  has  derived  honi  his 
valuablt^  explorations  on  the  west  ol  the  Rocky  Mountains. 


Si'iiiNorii-.Kis  'rkii.oiix.     I'l.  I,  {yy   10.     ( iN 


OS.    ()'■ 


and  S(j  o 


f  col- 


lect 


ion. 


L\seription. — Frond  bi|)innatr,  or  trijjinnate  ;   rachis  slender,  tle.xuoi 
fl 


pmna-   loni;,  tlexuoiis,  distant,   oi;p;"^^:i<  ,  perpeniiicular  to  tlie  rac 


l>m 


nu 


les  oblon^;,  subtrilobate,  oppositi:  or  alternate,  narrow    at  base,  distant. 


peri 


K:n 


dicul 


ir. 


The  distant,  lonq;,  and  flexuous  pinn.'o,  with  the  small  trilol)ate  pinnules, 
distini^niish  this  species.  In  ^-eneral  features  it  approaches  somtnvhat  the 
splienopteris  ri'^iJii  (  HroiiL;.  ).  but  ditfers  essf-ntially  in  the  smaller  pinnules, 
which  are  usualK-  nearly  opi)osite,  and  in  never  beint^  more  than  sub-trilo- 
bate, while  in  .S'.  ri^^ida  they  an;  often  deeply  tive-lobed. 


3.     SrilKMillKKIi   (?)   l'.\LClFOI.I.\.      V\.    2,  fl^^S. 

of  collection.; 


1,  \a,  lb,  ic,  id.    {  No.  II S 


;    i 
■  •   !'■       1 


t,  in  the 
cs  Hall, 


fh 


\ 


.4 


\vhi(  li  is 
\-  impiT- 
rihcil  ill 

'/  /•\>ssil- 


ll(!ction.) 
87.  t.  56, 

)iliTali'ly 

.Ijlpl'tixi- 

,sf,  about 
i-^ulcs  )  lit 
ion  twin; 

j)t.iin  Ire- 
iion\  his 

8u  ot  c:ul- 

llexuous  ; 
:his  ;   pin 
r,  ilist.tiit, 

;  piniitilcs. 

•what  till' 
liiiiinilcs, 
sub-trilo- 

(No.  iiS 


."» 


>^     \./ 


,•  >,' 


V 


FOSSIL    FFRNa 


'I: 
=11 '■ 


.^t 


Hi 


M  ^ 


r' ' 


-'iiii: 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-S) 


fe 


/ 


Us 


1.0 


I.I 


11.25 


1^ 


2.2 


lis  lllllio 


6" 


JA  ill  1.6 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WESr  MAIN  STREET 

/>r«STER,N.Y.  US80 

(716)  872-4503 


\ 


^ 


y 


<> 


s 


cn.irTFR  or  Kisri.rs-  PKor.  u.\i.i/s  stati:mj:.\t. 


'''-'3 


Description.  —Frond  tripinnate  ;  rachis  rather  slender,  with  Inn;^,  lateral, 
straij^du  branches,  which  are  sliL,dnly  obliciue  ;  pinna:  slender,  nearly  at  right 
angles,  alternate  and  (Opposite  ;  pinnules  minute,  oval-ovate,  somewhat  dis- 
tant, ojjposite  or  alternate,  e:.panded  or  attenuate  at  base,  sometimes  deeply 
bilobed  or  dij^ilatc  ;   midrib  not  apparent. 

This  species  was  evidently  a  beautiful  fern  of  lar_<:;-e  sizf,  with  slender, 
sparse  foliage,  giving  it  a  jjeculiarly  delicaie  appearance.  In  some  of  its 
varieties  (as  fig.  i/m  it  resembh^s  Sphfnopteris  dii^i/a/a  ;  I'hillips'  Geol. 
\'orkshire.  j).  147,  pi.  S,  tigs.  6  and  7  ;  S/>/tcn.  WiUiamsonii,  Hrong.,  Hist. 
\'eg.  I'^oss.,  i.,  p.  177,  t.  4().  tigs.  6,  7,  8.  The  fossil  under  consideration, 
however,  is  cpiite  a  ditferent  species.  In  the  (ig.  \a,  the  branches  and 
piiuiules  are  more  la,\  ;   fig.   w/ is  a  magnified  portion. 

In  its  general  aspect  this  fossil  resembles  the  genus  Pacliypteris,  to 
which  I  had  been  inclineil  to  refer  it,  but  for  the  digitate  character  of  the 
pinnules  manifestetl  by  some  specimens. 

4.  SiiiiNoi  lEKis  (?)  TRiioi  lATA.  I'l.  2,  t'igs.  2,  2a.  (?so.  86  of  col- 
lection.) 

ncscripdou.  I-Vond  bipinnate  ;  pinna-  trifoliate  ;  pinnules  elliptic,  nar- 
rowing at  the  base  ;  rachis  slender,  llexuous  ;  fructification  terminal,  ra- 
cemedike,  irom  the  pinnules  gradually  becoming  single  and  fructiferous. 

I'ig.  2(/.  Part  of  the  fructiferous  portion  enlarged,  showing  the  cap- 
sules, apparently  immersed  in  a  thickened  pinnule.  This  is  a  most  beauti- 
ful and  graceful  s[)ecies,  a|)proaching  in  some  respects  to  the  S.  paucifolia 
just  described. 


Ill 

III 


5.  (ii.ossoPTFFUs  Pini.i.irsii  (?).  IM.  2,  figs.  5,  yx,  5/',  y.  (Nos.  69, 
S;,  and  S6  of  the  collection.)  Cotn[)are  Clossopteris  Phillipsii,  Hrong., 
Hist.  V'eg.  I'^oss.,  p.  22^,  t.  61  bis.  fig.  2:  Pecopteris  pauci/olia,  Phillips' 
(leol.  \'orkshire.  p.  i  10,  pi.  viii..  fig.  8. 

niScriptioH.-  "  X.vwii^,  line.ir  lanceolate,  narrow,  narrowing  toward 
tlie  base  and  apex  ;  nervules  obliipie,  dichotomous,  lax,  scarcely  distinct, 
subimmerseii  in  the  thick  parenchyma."     Hrong.,  k/  sup.,  p.  225. 

The  specimen  fig.  5  corresponds  prt-cisely  with  the  figure  of  Hrongniart, 
pi.  ()\  bis,  fig.  5,  both  in  ft)rm  of  the  leaf  and  arrangement  of  tlie  nervules, 
so  as  to  leave  littU;  doubt  of  their  identity.  I'ig.  5  is  a  nearly  perfect 
leaf  of  this  species  ;  fig.  5(/  is  the  base  of  another  specimen,  having  a  long 
foot-stalk  ;  fig.  5/'  is  the  base  of  another  leaf  with  fructification  (?) ;  fig.  Sf, 
the  same  magnifieil.  This  structure  is  so  partial,  that  it  can  only  with 
doubt  be  referred  to  the  fructification  of  the  plant  ;  and  it  is  not  improba- 
ble that  the  same  may  be  some  parasitic  boily,  or  the  eggs  iif  an  insect 
which  have  been  ileposited  upon  the  leaf.     Whatever  this  may  have  been. 


62  4 


Af/:.\fO/Ks  Of  MY  1  u-i:   lonx  chari.f.s  FRfiMoxr. 


it  does  not  appear  to  have  been  calcareous  ;  and  the  total  ahscnrc  of  calca- 
reous matter  in  the  rock  is  an  otijection  to  referrinj;'  tlie  same  to  /lustra,  or 
any  of  tlie  jiarasitic  coraN.  llu'  ferns  are  abundant  in  the  rock  at  this 
point,  ami  many  of  them  unbroken,  and  evidently  not  far  or  lonj^r  trans- 
porteil  whiih,  liad  they  been,  would  h.ive  L;iven  support  to  the  suppc/sition 
of  this  body  beiui^^  coral. 

I  Iiavc  referred  this  speci«'s  to  the  (ilossopieris  /'/ii//i/>sit',  as  being  the 
only  description  and  lij^ure  accessible  to  me  to  which  this  fossil  bears  any 
near  resemblance.  The  L^eolot^ical  position  ot  that  fossil  is  so  well  asccr- 
tained  to  be  the  schists  ot  the  upper  jiart  ot  thr  oolitic  period  that,  relying 
upon  the  evidence  ottered  by  a  single  species,  we  might  rc-gard  it  as  a 
strong  argument  tor  reterring  all  tlu!  other  specimens  to  the  same  geolog- 
ical period. 

Tlu-  two  tollowing  species,  or  varieties  of  the  same  species,  have  been 
referred  with  doubt  to  the  genus  pccopteris  :  but  a  close  examination  shows 
the  midrib  only  partially  distinct,  and  in  some  cases  scarcely  \  isible,  while 
the  nervules  radiate  from  the  base.  In  other  cases  the  midrib  appears 
well  marked  at  the  base,  Init  disappears  in  numerous  ramitu  atioi;s  betbre 
reaching  the  apex.  The  character,  therefore,  given  by  Hrongni."!rt,  of 
"  ncrvo  viedio  vaLie  notato,  ncc  apicc  evancscentc,"  is  inapplicable  to  th«',e 
species;  but  the  same  feature  may  be  observed  in  some  figured  by  Mren-~ 
gniart  himself. 


t  : 


6.  Fr.corrKKis  indi  lata.  PI.  i.tigs.  i  and  2.  (Nos.  S3  and  iiS  of  col- 
lection.) 

Description.  —  I-Vond  bif)innate ;  rachis  slender;  pinna^  long,  slightly 
obli(]ue  to  the  rachis,  o[)positc  and  alternate;  pinnules  oblique,  oval-ovate, 
broad  at  the  base,  and  the  lower  ones  sometimes  lobed,  gradually  becom- 
ing coadunate  toward  the  extremity  of  the  ])inna'. 

Tile  pinnules  have  often  an  apparently  continuous  smooth  outline;  ;  but. 
on  closer  examination,  they  appear  undulated,  or  indented  upon  the  mar- 
gin, and  many  of  them  are  obviously  so. 


'  11 


7.  Pf-copteris  LNOi'LATA ;  var,  PI,  I,  figs.  3,  4,  5.  (No.  78  of  col- 
lection. ) 

Description,  brond  bi()innate  ;  rachis  slender  ;  pinna*  numerous,  long, 
and  gradually  tapering,  cjblicjue  to  the  rachis;  pinmiles  oval-ovate,  broad 
at  base  ;  midrib  evanescent ;  nervules  strong,  bifurcating  toward  the  apex  ; 
margins  lobed  or  indented,  particularly  in  those  near  the  base  of  the  pinnx. 

This  species  may  be  regarded  as  a  variety  of  the  last,  though  the  pin- 
nules are  longer  and  less  broad  i)r()|)ortionally  ;  but  the  general  aspect  is 
similar,  and  the  habit  of  the  plant  precisely  the  same. 


CIIArriK  OF  NF.se/7S     F/<(1F.    //,U  /:S  STA/FAfE.VT. 


625 


?■■'■ 


The  specimen  f\^.  5  can  only  be  regarded  as  an  extreme  variety  of  the 
same  species,  which  is  approaclied  in  some  of  the  enlarged  pinnules,  as 
fig.  4. 

8.  Pkcoptkris  (?)  onoNroprKKoiDi-.s.  PI.  i,  figs.  6  and  7.  (Xos.  7S  and 
1 18  of  colh'ction.) 

Pcscription. — Frond  hipinnate  ( ? )  ;  pinn.x  long  and  slender;  s(;cond- 
ary  pinna-  subilistant,  gradually  tapering,  nearly  perpendicular;  pinnules 
suhrotund,  obtuse,  small,  approximate,  obli(pie,  alternate,  and  coadunate 
at  base ;   nervules  strong,  diverging  from  base  ;   no  distinct  midrib. 

l-"ig.  7.  A  few  of  tlu;  p'nna-  near  the  termination  of  a  frond. 

The  arrangement  of  the  pinnules  and  nerves  in  this  species  strongly  re- 
minds one  of  the  Odontopteris  Sililothcimii,  Hrong.,  Hist.  Veg.  P'oss.,  p. 
256,  t,  "]?<,  fig.  5  -a  fossil  fern  of  the  Pennsylvania  coal  measures;  but  this 
is  essentially  different. 

The  aspect  of  the  three  last-named  plants  is  more  like  that  of  the  true 
coal-measure  ferns  than  any  of  the  others  ;  but  the  whole  association,  and 
their  fossil  condition,  demand  that  they  should  be  referreil  to  a  very  modern 
period. 

AV.V'  (ii-nui      Tku  iidi'iKKis. 

Character. — Frond  slender,  (lexuous,  in  tufts  or  single,  branching  or 
pinnate ;  branches  long,  ver\  sleiuler. 

(;.  Tkk  HoiTKRis  1  ii.wiKNKisA.  PI.  J.  fig.  6.  (No.  "j^  of  Collection. ) 
Comj)are  /•'ucoiJes  <equalis,  Hrong.,  Hist.  Veg.  Foss.,  p.  58,  t.  5,  figs.  3 
and  4. 

Description.  VrowA  pinnate  or  bipinnate ;  rachis  long,  and  almost 
equally  slender  throughout ;  br;uiches  nunierous,  regular,  alternate,  simple, 
elongatetl,  very  slender,  and  llexuous. 

The  branch(!s  are  frecpienily  foKled  back  upon  themselves,  and  undu- 
lated, lying  like-  the  fmest  thre:ul  upi>n  the  surface'  of  the  stone.  This 
species  is  very  delicate  and  graceful,  and  can  scarcely  be  examined  without 
the  aid  of  a  magnifier.  This  fossil  is  very  similar  to  the  /•'ucoidcs  cri/iui/is 
of  Hrong.  (from  the  lower  chalk  >,  except  that  the  branches  are  lonii^er 
and  undivitied. 


'  i     I 


t  Ml 


10.  Tricjiopteris  f.RACiLis.     IM.  I,  fig.  8.     (No.  84  of  collection.) 
Description. — Slemler,  stems  numerous,  fiexuous,  in  a  tuft,  branched  ; 
branches  numerous,  slender,  oblique,  stronger  than  in  the  last  species. 

This  species  is  more  robust  than  the  first  descnbeii,  but  eviilently  be- 
longs to  the  same  genus.     I  had  first  supposed  that  this  might  be  a  collec- 


m 


' 


i'iSu 


i  s 


;r;:i 


r)2r) 


.l//.l/('/A'.s  ('/    .)/)•  ///•/■—/(>//. \'  (7/./A7/..V  JK/:\fO.\T. 


tioii  of  liTii  stiiii-,,  strippcil  of  tlicir  Idlias^c  :  i)ut  tlicir  slender  structure, 
Ioiil;  branches,  ami  |)eculi.ir  arraiiL;<'ineiit,  with  the  appropriate  proportion 
of  all  the  parts,  lorlud  it-,  relereiice  to  anything  of  this  kind  ;  it  is  therefore 
placed  in  a  new  i^enus. 


1.     SriMS  (II     lt"KN> 


I,    \K 


he  stt'ins  (if  ferns,  denuded  ot  leaves,  and  jiortions  only  of  the  branch 


es 


reniainiiiL^.      (ireal  niiinlxTs  of  these  stems  occur,  mingled  with  fragments 
ol  lea\c-.  and  other  portions  ot  terns  still  periect. 


I  J. 


,KM    (M    A     lil(  (il  \  1  I  hONi  il  --    ri.\Nl    (.). 


4.   a>-  A 


U'f. 


ir,  and  No.  roi  ot  collection.) 


Pisirif^tion.  —  Leaf  o\atedan( colate,   lohed  ;    lohes    acute,    mucronate 


m 


idrib   strai'dit,    distinct,    di(  hot 


nnicronate  points. 


oinous  ;    jirincipal   divisions    going    to   the 


This  leal  h.is  the  aspect  dl  the  leat  ot  a  dicotyledonous  jjlant,  and  a[)- 
proaches  remoteU  only  to  the  (  haracter  oi  species  of  the  genus  Plilcbof>- 
toisoi  Uron^niart,  which  arc  regarded  as  such  by  Phillips,  a.,d  by  Lindh-y 
and  Hutlon.  The  specimen  was  not  observed  soon  enough  to  make  a 
sati--t,ictor\  ( omparis.m. 

Locality,  in  the  neighborhood  ol  the  specimens  containing  the  |)recoding 
fitssils,  ar.d  regarded  bv  Captain  lr(inont  as  belonging  to  the  same  forma- 
tion. Ihe  ro(  k  cont. lining  them  is  a  soli  or  \ery  partially  indurated  clay, 
\ery  unlike  the  hard  and  brittle  mass  (untaining  the  other  sjiecit's. 

i'lMI     III 

Fcjssil  Siiclls.  etc. 

FiiTv.  ,(.  6,  c,  -,  I),  .'iinl   12   nil'  fnirn  l>  inijiiiidc   iii   ,  hititiidc  40''. 
I''ii;s.  iS.   X).  :m(l   ^o  :iic  lenii  Kiiii^il  ihl''   1  i  1      l.Uinidc  41^  . 
Fi^s.  ij.  15,  aiul    16  art-  ln>;ii  Imiuiiinic  115  \  iaiitmlr  4^  . 
Figs.  2i  and  3,5,  leaves,  fr(jiii  Imi^itude  m  ,  latitude  43^  . 

1;,.  MsA  1 1  I.I  iNi)ii>i;s.*  \'\.  .1,  figs.  4  and  >>.  Compare.'  iiiiio  pcrci^ri- 
nus  :  I'hillijis'  (.ieol.  N'orkshire,  pi.  7,  tig.  i :;.  (  Nos.  S,  2S,  and  }^2  of  col- 
lection, j 

Pescripttou.  <  Kate,  posterior  side  extended,  slojie  gentle,  rounded  at 
the  extremity;  anterior  side  regularly  rounded  ;  surface  nearly  smooth,  or 
marked  only  by  lines  of  growth  ;  beaks  slightly  wrinkled;  moderately 
prominent. 

Ihe  sp('cinieii  fig.  4  is  an  entire  shell ;  lig.  6  is  a  cast  of  the  two  valves 
of  a   smaller  specimen,  retaining   a  small   portion   of  the  shell.     Another 

•  The  s|)C(u-,,  NNJiirc  III)  .lutlioiUy  is  t;ivcii,  aic  itTj.iriled  ,15  new,  and  will  bo  so  uiulciStood. 


•ucturo, 
iporlioii 
icrcforc 


ranches 
igim.'iits 


r.   Aw^. 


:ronate ; 

to   the 

ami  a[)- 

Vhlcbop- 

I.iiullty 

inakt-  .1 

rcceiliiiiL^ 
V  torina- 
cd  clay, 


pi-rci^ri- 

2    oi  Co\- 

\\x\(\va\  at 

ooth,  or 

)ilcrat('ly 

•()  valves 
Another 


■n  ss 


•Jl 
.J 

u 

I 

a: 


iii' 
-• !  •!  ■ 


■i'  i; 


lii, 


■  ,1 


M 


illAriER  Ol'  RliSrirs    PROF,  hai.i.s  sta  ikment. 


'--•; 


specimen,  lari^cr  tlum  cilliL-r  ol  llujsc,  presents  the  inside  oi  botli  valves, 
with  the  hinge  broken. 

Locality,  in  lonj^'itiKlc  i  i  i   ,  I.ililii(lc  40  ,  in  shity  bituniincnis  limestone. 

14.  Nt»  ri.A  i\iii<i;ssA  (.^)  (i.      I'l.  ;,,  li;^^  5.      (No,  32  of  collection. ) 
Desci  if^tioH.      .Snb(jllij)tical  ;   posterior  extremity  somewh.at  e.xpanded  ; 

surface  smooth.      A  few  of  the  teeth  arc:  scill  visible  on  the  anterior  hinge 
margin,  but  the  greater  [jarl  of  the  hinge  line  is  t)bscnred. 

Locality,  in  longitude  i  i  1",  latitude  40',  in  slaty  bituminous  limestone. 

15.  CvTiir.Ki:\  I'AUvri.A.  PI.  3,  figs.  16  and  17.  (No.  21  (jf  collec- 
tion.)  Compare-  Lsocunlia  anj^ulata  {/).  Phillips'  Cieol.  \'orkshire.  pi.  9, 
fig.  9. 

Description.  Ovate  trigonal  ;  umbones  elevated  ;  beaks  incurved  ;  sur- 
face marked  by  regular  concentric  lines  of  growth  ;  umbones  and  beaks 
with  a  few  stronger  wrinkles.  The  umbones  of  this  shell  are  scarcely  tli- 
verging  or  involute  enough  to  place  it  in  the  genus  Isocardia,  where  it 
would  otherwise  very  naturally  belong. 

Locality,  in  longitude  i  15",  l.ititutle  43'.  in  gray  argillaceous  limestone. 
Two  other  specimens  of  the  same  shell  were  noticed. 

16.  l'l.i;fkOT'>MAKiA  iMANdii-ATA.  IM.  3,  tigs.  7  and  9.  (Xos.  8  and 
32  of  collection.) 

I^escription.  Turbinate  ;  whorls.  abf)ut  six,  gradually  enlarging  :  con- 
vex below,  anil  angul.ir  above  ;  suture  plain  ;  surface  marked  by  fine  lines 
of  grov.'th  ;   ai)ertu''e  round-oval  ;   shell  thin,  tragile. 

The  specimens  are  all  imperfect,  and  more  or  less  crushed  ;  the  figures, 
however,  arc;  gootl  representations  of  the  fossil.  It  is  readily  distinguished 
by  its  fine  lines  of  growth,  resembling  a  species  of  helix,  and  by  the  an- 
gular character  of  the  upper  part  of  each  whorl. 

Locality,  in  longitude  i  i  i ",  latitude  40',  in  a  dark  slaty  bituminous 
limestone. 

17.  Ckkhiium  ti'.m  Ki  m.  I'l.  3,  figs.  10,  11.  (Nos.  S,  32,  and  34  of 
collection. ) 

/Vj-cv7///V'/;.  -  r.longated,  subulate;  whorls,  about  ten,  marked  with 
strong  ridges,  which  are  again  crossed  by  liner  lines  in  the  direction  ot  the 
whorls.  idle  strong  vertical  ridges  are  often  obsolete  on  the  last  whorl, 
as  in  fig.   1  1,  and  the  spiral  lines  much  stronger. 

This  shell  is  vc;ry  strongly  marked,  and  its  external  aspect  is  sufficient 
to  distinguish  it ;  it  is  e.isily  fractured,  and,  from  the  nature  of  the  matrix, 
it  has  been  impossible  to  obtain  a  specimen  exhibiting  the  mouth  perfectly. 

Locality,  same  as  the  preceding. 


I  I 


;  :  :■ 


;    V 


n 


■;:   ^'l' 


VI 


f!;h 


6a8 


•J//  1/f'/A'.V  fV     )/)    ////•■     A>//.\-  r//./A77.S   fRHMOXr. 


18.   CrurniuM  Imcimon  1 II.      I'l.  ;,.  t'll,^  i  j.      (  NO.  :!.S  of  (■dllcction. ) 

Dcscrif^tion.  Shell  trrctc  ovate,  .iciite  ;  whorls,  alioiit  nine,  convex  ; 
summit  ot  each  owv  coronateil  ;  siirlace  marketl  by  regular  rows  of  pustu- 
lar knobs,  often  v.ith  smaller  cMies  hetwiien  ;  beak  small,  sharp  ;  mouth  not 
visible  in  the  specimen. 

Ihis  is  a  very  beautifully  marked  shell,  with  the  summit  of  each  whorl 
crowneil  with  a  r(nv  of  ^lu>rt  spines. 

l.oiixlity,  same  as  tlie  precedin^^. 

If),  \.\rit  A  (?)  o.  iiiiiMMis.  ri.  ;.  fiL^s.  i^^  and  14.  (Nos.  16  and  21  of 
collection. ) 

Dcsi  riptio)!. — Depressed,  conical,  or  subj^loliose  ;  spire  short,  consist- 
ing of  about  live  whorls,  the  last  one  comprisiii},;  the  j^rcater  part  of  the 
shell;  aperture  semioval,  roundeil  at  both  extremities;  luubilicus  small; 
surface  marked  by  lines  of  q^rowth. 

There  is  a  single  perfect  specimen  and  several  casts  of  this  ilelicate  lit- 
tle shell.  The  mouth  is  not  entire,  but  enough  remains  to  shcnv  tliat  the 
lip  was  a  little  exj)ande(.l ;  but  whether  the  columella  covered  a  part  of  the 
umbilicus  is  uncertain. 

Loi\i/ity,  in  longitude  115",  latitude  4V.  '"  «i  .^ray  siliceous  limestone. 

20.  Ti'RRh  r.i.i  A  liiiiNKAiA.     PI.  ;,  tig.  15.     (\o.  2\  of  collection.) 
Description.      Klongaled.   ^ulnilate,    spire    rapidly    ascending;    wlu)rls 

marked  by  a  double,  elevated,  spiral  line,  which  is  notched  ii:  the  lower 
whorls. 

The  specimen  tigured  is  imperfect,  only  the  upper  part  (■>(  ihv.  shell  re- 
maining.     Several  casts  of  the  same  species  occur  in  the  specimens. 

Locality,  same  as  the  preci:ding. 

21.  Ckkhiium  NoDii.osiM.  I'l.  ^  tigs.  iS  and  19.  (Nos.  64,  68,  and 
74  of  collection.  ) 

Description.  Idongated,  subulate  ;  spire  rajiidly  ascending  ;  whorls 
about  seven  ;  the  sutures  marked  b\'  a  spiral  band  ;  surlace  ot  whorls 
marked  by  (urxcd  stria-,  or  elevated  lines,  in  the  direction  of  the  lines  ot 
growth;  whorls  carinaled,  with  a  row  of  ])rotuberanees  along  the  centre. 
The  arched  lines  of  growth  are  more  distinct  upon  the  last  whorl,  and 
it  is  markeil  luMiealh  bv  a  few  spiral  lines. 

I'ig.  iS  is  a  perfect  specimen.  Fig.  19.  The  left-hand  figure  is  a  cast 
of  the  same  species  ;  the  right-haml  figure  retains  the  shell  upon  the  upper 
part,  while  it  is  removed  from  the  lower  part. 

Locality,  in  longitude  1 1 1",  latitude  41^",  in  yellowish-gray  oolitic  liine- 
stone. 


CHAPTER  OF  Risri.rs—rKor.  //.u./:s  srAT/:.\//:.\T. 


629 


22.   TiRiio  r.\MM)iN.i:i  iiRMis.    PI.  3,  \'\^.  20.    (No.  64  of  collection.) 

Description.- -\\\\or\s,  about  four,  rapidly  <Mllar_l,MnJ^^  convex,  smooth; 
mouth  round-oval;  coluinclla  slij^ditly  rcrtlcctcd  ;  volutions  marked  l>y  fine 
archeii  stria-  in  the  direction  of  the  lines  of  |rro\vtli. 

A  sm.ill  portion  only  of  tlie  shell  remains  upon  the  specimen  fiL^ured, 
but  it  is  retaini'd  in  the  matrix.  This  tossil  occurs  in  i,rray  or  j'ellowish 
oolite,  associated  with  Ccrithium  Hodulo'<U)ii,  and  other  shells.  It  resem- 
bles raludina  in  lorm. 

Locality,  same  as  the  preceding;. 


% 


23.   Lk/WKs  of  DicoTvi.KnoNoi  s  ri.ANTs.   PI.  3,  riL,'s.  2  2  and  23. 
The  specimens  have  not  bt!en  satisfactorily  identified,  but  doubtless  be- 
long,' to  a  very  modern  tertiary  tleposil. 

Locality,  Cascades  of  the  Columbia  River. 


!■!•■ 


24.   Inocer.vmis— 


W.wv    IV. 


1.    4,  li«;s.     I 


and 


( Nos.  26,  20,  21, 


and  38  of  collection.)  Compare  Inoccramus  mytiloidcs,  Sow.  Min.  Con., 
tab.  442. 

/)cscription. — -Inequavalved,  depressctl,  and  elont;ated;  surface  marked 
by  numerous  waved  lines  aiul  riilj;('S  ;  convex  toward  the  beaks  ;  beaks 
short  and  obtuse,  somt;what  obsolete  in  old  specimens  ;    hinge  line  oblique. 

In  the  old  specimens,  the  shell  appears  much  flattened,  excej)!  toward 
the  be.iks  ;  \vhil(!  in  the  yount^'er  specimens  it  is  more  convex,  and  [nir- 
ticularly  so  toward  the  beaks.  The  youngest  specimens  are  finely  lined, 
ami  the  whole  surface  of  one  valve  <|uite  convex. 

'J'his  fossil  apparently  exists  in  i^reat  numbers,  as  in  tht;  specimens  ex- 
amineil  there  wvvr.  individuals  in  all  stages  of  growth,  though  mostly 
broken  or  separaleil  valves.  TIk.-  same  species  was  collected  by  the  late 
Mr.  Nicollet,  near  the  Great  lU-iul  of  the  Missouri. 

Locality,  Smoky  llill  River,  longitude  98",  latitude  3S',  in  yellowish  and 
gray  Hmestone  of  the  cretact^ous  lornuition. 

25.   Inoceraml's ?  PI.  4,  fig.  3.  (No.  42  of  collection. )     Compare 

Inoccramus  iuvolutus.  Sow.  Min.  Con.,  tab.  5S3. 

/?ifiT^////<^«.  Semicircular ;  surface  Hat,  with  the  margin  dellectetl  ; 
marked  by  strong,  regular  concentric  ridges,  which  become  attenuated  on 
either  side,  and  are  nearly  obsolete  toward  the  beak  ;  beak  of  one  valve 
small,  not  elevated  ;  hinge  line  nearly  rectangular. 

The  strong  concentric  ridges  distinguish  this  fossil  from  any  other 
species.     The  specimen  figured  is  probably  the  flat  valve,  as  a  fragment  of 


i'l  ! 


f)  ;o 


\f/ .\f('>/NS  <7   \fy  I n r   loiix  c/f  ih'/rs  /A'/'.udv/' 


a  largr  ariil  imich  more  ((nucv  \.il\f  ,icc(Mn|),uii«'s  this  om-.  trotn  the  same 
K>tality.  'I'hc  slu'll,  [Mitii  ularly  tow.ir^l  the  iii.ir';in.  is  \ cry  tliick  and  tihrDus. 
I.oialttx.  lu-.ir  ihf  cisti  rii  slope  ot  the  l\(>(k\'  Mountains,  in  lon^ituilr 
II '5'.  lalinulc  j9  ,  in  li;^lu  \  illouish-^ray  liinc-.loiH',  |)roI)aI>Iy  of  tlic  nvta- 
tl•oll^.  t'onnatioii. 


i\-i 


ml' I 


N'oir;.  -Till'  spcciinms  hi^nirrd  on  i'lati-  III.,  \ns.  .j,  6,  5,  7,  and  10, 
luni'  the  apprarani  r  ot  tliiviatilc  -dirlls,  an<i  would  iiavi-  Ikcu  so  rl•l,^'lrdl•ll 
lull  tor  the  (u  I  urr(  lu'f  ot  ti^.  5,  which  appears  to  hr  a  Nuiiila,  and  ti^;.  13, 
in  tin;  same  association,  the  scnlpturini;  <»t  which  is  unlike  any  (d  the  Mrja- 
nia  known  to  nir.  it  is  not  iniprohahlc,  lunvcver.  thai  this  may  pro\r  a 
fresh-wati-r  ili-posit  ot  \ast  interest,  as  it  appears  to  bo  of  j^^reat  extent, 
and  occurs  at  a  j^reat  ele\ation.  The  researches  of  Captain  l*"ri'inont,  in 
his  tuture  explorations,  will  doulitless  set  this  ijucstion  at  rest,  by  a  !ai\;er 
ci.'lleciion  of  lossils  from  the  same  re'don. 


('.       N'liIK     C'NclKVIN'-      Mil      I'lWI-    C"')!!!!^!!     IS      IHI      SkCONH     I'lx  TI  I '1  11  w\    oh 

(Ml  MS  I-'ki^Mi'N  I. 


I!       1 


'^'  ^ 


■  i-  i^ 


\  ■    '  H; 


Hi!''     IJM 


;»i;i 


iK:  i' 


Wh 


en  C  apt.un  rri-mont  sit  dut    on  his   second  expedition,  hi 


w,is  we 


providei.1  with  jMper  and  oth-  r  means  tor  making,''  extensive  botanical  ml- 
lections  ;  ami  it  was  uiulersiood  that,  on  his  return,  we  should,  conjoimU, 
prepare  a  full  account  of  his  plant,  to  lu-  a|ipended  to  his   report.      Abmil 


tourteiMi  hundred  species  were  collectt 


ti>ri 


e   exnioreii 


n\-   anv 


bot 


anist. 


in, in)'  of  them   in  regions  not  be- 

f  th< 


n   I  onse(ju<'nce,    liowe\cr,   ot   tti<'  u;reat 


lent;th  ot  the  journev.  and  the  luimerous  accidents  to  which  the  party  we 


re 


exposed 


)Ut  (  -specially  owiii:;    to    tin 


(in 


adful   flood   of  the  Kansas,  which 


ileiui/ed  till'   In  Tiler' 


.t  till 


ssouri  aiii 


Mi 


ississipi)i    Rivers,  more  th.ui 


half  of  his  speiimens  w« 
1 


ri-  ruined  betore   he  reaihed  the  bonlers  ot  civili- 


zation.     I'.ven  tile   portion   saved  was 


fre 


atl 


y  ilamai^etl  ;   so  that,  in   many 


instances,  it  li.is  bee-n  <'xtreiiiel\-  ditt'icult  to  determine  the  plants.  As  there 
was  not  sutluient  time,  belor'-  tlie  public.ition  of  Captain  ["n'mont's  re|H)rt. 
for  the  projier  studv  of  the  n  iii.uns  of  his  (c)llection,  it  has  been  deemed 
advisable  to  reserxctlie  orciter  jt.irt  oftluin  to  incorporate  with  the  pl.mts 
which  we  expect  he  will  briiiL;  wiih  him  on  returniiiL,'-  from 
tlition,  upon  wdiic  h  he  h.is  just  s(  t  out. 


his  third 


eXiiC' 


The  1 


OSS  sustained  by  C.iptain  b'ri  iiiont,  and,  I  may  say,  by  tlie  bot, mi- 
cal  world,  will,  we  trust,  be  p.irtK  made  u[)  the  present  and  ne.xt  seasons, 
as  much  of  the  same"  countr\-  will   be   passed  over  a,iL,Min,  and   some  ni.-w 


re^Mons  explored. 


pk 


irram/emen 


ts  have  also  b(;en  made  bv  which   the  1 


.1(1- 


tanical  collections  will  be  jireservetl.  at  least  from  the  ilestructix'e  effects  ol 
water  ;   and  a  perbun  accompanies  the  expedition,  who  is  to  make  drawings 


n< 


f  ' 


(II  \r iiR  or  />7v 1 7. /'.v-  x\i ' /'/r  /.■  v  /'kof.  t< y^Rrv. 


'''?» 


of  all  tlir  most  intcrj-stiiiL:  [ilants.  Particular  attention  will  he  i,'ivcn  to  the 
forest  trees  and  the  vej,''etalile  |iro(lnetion'.  that  are  useful  in  the  arts,  or 
tiiat  are  eniitloy<''l  tor  food  or  medic  inc      JOIIN    TOT.  1\1"".N'.  | 


i 


I'; 


Dcsi )  if'tions  of  some  m-w  i^rncta  <n/,/  s/ftrirs  of  f^lants,  collected  in  Caflain 
y.  C.  I'^reniont' s  exflotin:^  e.xfedition  to  l)reiron  and  Xortlt  Calijor- 
nia,  in  the  year  iS.13-44,      By  john   Torrey  and  j.  C.  I'rcmont, 


(  '1  I  iiMi  1  I  A  (>)  ,)|M  r,-ll  ci|  I  \  I'orp .  ariil  /■>, 


m. 


Hranchinic  from  the  base,  and  tlittuse  ;  Iratlcts  cuneale-  ohovate,  obtuse- ; 
styh-  filiform. 

Annual,  stem  smooth,  the  i  ■  aiirhes  spreading;,  about  a  span  \ow^.  hairy 
in  llie  axils.  Leaves,  or  petioles,  an  inch  or  more  in  Imi^rth  ,  thclamina  ii^ 
tin-  li-at1ets  four  to  six  h  i  ,  lon^,  apice'.ue  witli  a  deciduous  'hristle.  nearly 
smooth  above,  sparsely  stri^ost  underneath.  I'edicles  solitary  and  axillary 
in  th<'  upper  part  ol  the  br.uithi"-.  Ioniser  than  the  petioles.  Calyx  much 
shorter  than  the  corolla  ;  the  st  pals  lacerately  three  to  five-toothed.  Petals 
yellow,  obloni,f-lanceolate,  obti:  c,  about  three  lines  in  leni^th.  Stamens 
six,  une(iual,  a  little  e.xserted  ;  anthers  nii"ar-()!)lony,  recurved  when  i^Kl. 
Torus  hemispherical.  Ovary  on  a  lonj^r  slender  stipe,  obovate  ;  r>tyle 
Ioniser  th.m  the  ovary. 

()n  thr  .American  b'ork  of  the  S.icr.unento  !\i\er;  M.irch.  Thf  speci- 
mens are  not  in  fruit,  so  thai  uc  cae.nol  be  certam  as  to  tlu;  genus;  but  it 
seems  to  be  a  L  leomella. 

.^IK(•o^•^l  IV  C W  U'^KNIi   \.        /!■/•;.   ,;//,/  /•'»•■  III. 

Leaves  obovate-sp.itulate  ;   stamens  11  to   12. 

On  the  American  I'Ork  of  the  .Sacramento  River. 

This  species  is  intermediate  between  Meconellaand  Platystit^ma.  It  is 
a  sl<-nder  annual,  threi-  to  four  inclies  hii^di,  with  the  railical  haves  in  rosn- 
late  clusters,  and  more  ililated  at  tin-  extremity  th.ui  in  M.  (hex'una.  The 
flowers  also  are  much  larger.  Tin;  torus,  which  is  like  that  of  Lschscholt- 
zia,  is  very  ilistinct. 

.\K(  ImMkciin.      7'i'ti.  iUhl  J'rem. — n.  i^fii. 

Caly.x  of  three  smooth  iinbricated  caducous  sepals.  Petals  four,  obo- 
vate. regular.  Stamens  numerous  ;  anthers  oblongdinear,  tht-  cells  open- 
ing longitutlinally.  Ovary  obovoitl,  composed  of  six  carpels,  with  as  many 
narrow  intervalvular  placentcu  ;  styles  none ;  stigmas  coalescing  into  a  small 


!'l 


;  -^  i 


•;  M  i'iis  4 ' 


\%  m 


m^ 


rri 


;•  t 


,S!:i 


-li 


^:  r 


632  MEMOIKS  01    MV  LIFE    JOHX  CliARI.ES  ERf:.\rOXT. 

hemispherical,  six-aiij^lcr,  sessile  head,  the  angles  of  which  are  opposite  the 
placent.i'.  not  forming  a  projecting  disk.  Ca[)sule  (immature)  ovoid,  the  pla- 
centa; almost  tiliforin,  opening  at  the  summit  by  six  valves,  which  separate 
from  the  ])ersistrnt  pl.ici'nt.i'.  Seeds  oblong,  smooth,  strophiol.ue.  A  per- 
ennial herb,  witli  a  thick  wootly  root.  Leaves  numerous,  mostly  crowded 
about  the  root,  tlabelliform-mun^ate,  densely  clothtnl  with  long  gr,i\-, 
upwardl\-  barbellate  hairs,  three  to  li\ c  lobcd  at  the  summit  ;  the  lobfs  u  iih 
t\\  o  lo  three  teeth,  w  hieh  are  tipped  with  .1  rigid  pungent,  upwardl\'  seaiirnus 
bristle.  .Stems  e;ipe-like,  abt)ul  a  toot  high,  liirnislied  aI)out  the  middle  wuh 
one  or  two  sm.ill  braLl-lik-,,-  leaves,  smooth  .d)o\e,  rough  toward  the  base. 
Mowers  in  a  loos<;,  somewhat  umliellate,  simple  or  somewhat  compound 
pai'icle  ;  the  peduncles  elongated,  erect.      Petals  about  an  inch  long,  )ell()w. 

.\ki  roMU'iN   t".\i  IK iKNK  iM.      Torr.  aiiJ  E'ltn. 

This  remarkable  plant  was  found  in  only  a  single  station  in  the  Califor- 
nian  Mountains,  on  the  banks  of  a  creek  ;  tlowering  early  in  May.  Tlie 
sdil  was  sterile  wwA  gravelly,  .\lthough  very  near  I'apaver,  it  dilfers  so 
much  in  habit  and  in  the  strophiolatc  seeds,  as  well  as  in  other  characters, 

tlial  it  niubt  be  a  distinct  genus. 

Kkamkkia. 

A  shrubby  species  of  this  genus  was  found  on  the  I'ir^cn  River,  in 
Californi.i.  It  seems  to  !)<•  A',  /^arvifolia  of  Bentham,  describc'd  in  the 
voyage  of  the  Sulphur,  llis  plant,  howe\(;r,  was  only  in  fruit,  while  our 
specimens  are  only  in  tlower.  Ours  grows  in  thick  bunches  one  to  two 
feet  high,  of  a  gray  aspect,  with  numerous  \  ery  straggling  aiul  somewhat 
spinescent  branches.  Le.ivt^s  scarcely  one-third  of  .ui  inch  long,  obovate- 
spatulate.  The  llowers  are  scarcely  more  than  half  .is  l;irg<.'  as  in  '\  'rnceo- 
liXta.  S<'pals  live,  une(|ual  ;  claws  of  the  three  U[)per  petals  united  mto  \\ 
column  below  :  lamin.i  more  or  less  ovatt;  ;  the  two  lower  petals  short  and 
truncate.  Stamens  shorter  than  tin-  upper  petals  ;  tlu.'  filaments  united  at 
the  b<is(;  with  the  column  of  the  petals  ;  anthers  onecelK'd,  with  a  mem- 
branaceous summit,  the  orifice  of  which  is  somewhat  dilated,  and  finally 
lacerated.      Ovary  hairy  and  spinulose;   style  rigid,  declined. 

C)xvsrYi.is.      Torr.  and Frl-m. — n.  g^n. 

Se[)als  linear  ;  i)etals  ovate,  somewhat  unguiculate  ;  ovary  two-celled  ; 
the  cells  subglobose,  each  with  two  ovules  ;  style  pyramidal,  much  larger 
than  the  ovary.  .Silicle  didymous  ;  the  carpels  obovoid-globose,  one- 
seeded  (or  rarely  two-seeded),  indehiscent,  separating  from    the  base  of 


iii.irrrR  of  ni-kii  is    iorri-.v  anp  rRi':.MOi\T. 


^1,? 


the,  p<;rsistt'iU  siit)iil;it('  spincsrcnt  style  ;  pericarp  cnistaren-coriaceous. 
Seed  ovate,  sdinewluit  conipressf-d  ;  testa  ineinl)ranacenus,  the  liniinjf  much 
thi(  kiiieil  and  tlfihy.  (.'otylcdons  inciiinl)e'iit,  linear-oIjloiiL;  ;  radicle  o|)- 
pdsitf  ihf  plai cnt.e.  A  smooth  annual  herl).  Le.ucs  ternalelv  parted,  on 
Ioul;  pi'tioli  s  ;  thi'  Icatlets  ovale  or  ohloUL;,  entire  petiohilate.  I'lowers  in 
nnnnrous  axillary,  crowd'd,   -hort  tapitaio  ra(:<:nu.'s,  .small  and  \trllo\v. 


I! 


i 


(  )\\  -  I  \  I  I--    I  r  I  I  \         Ti»i .  ,tn,l  /■'r/i/i. 

(  )n  th''  AniarL^o^a  i\i\ci-,  at  tlie  loot  o|'  a  saiid\'  hill  :  onl\-  seen  in  one 
pl.ur,  l)ut  almndant  tlnrr.  I'hc  sprcimcns  were  collrcted  on  April  jSth, 
and  were  in  both  tlowerand  truit. 

A  rather  stout  plant  :  the  stem  erect,  a  foot  or  f'lltecii  inches  hi,i;h,  ..im- 
pU-  or  .1  little  I)r, niching  Ix  low,  leafy.  l>eallets  one  to  ont"  and  a  halt" 
inch  lon^,  obtuse.  Heads  of  llowers  about  half  an  inch  in  diameter,  not 
elont,Mtini^  in  haiit.  ("al\.\  shorter  than  the  corolla;  the  sepals  acute,  \el- 
Ktwish,  tijiped  w  itii  or.m^e.  Petals  about  two  lines  Ioul;.  Iruit  consistint^ 
of  two  roiuuiish  indehiscrnt  (  arpels,  which  at  maturit\-  ^.eparate  Ijy  ,i  small 
l)usc,  leaving  the  indurated  pointed  st\le.  The  epic<u"p  is  thin,  membrana- 
ceous, and  slightly  ( <)rruL,'aled. 

This  remarkable  ])lant  seems  to  connect  L'rucifer.e  with  ("ai)paritlacea'. 
Ihe  clusters  of  old  tlower  stalks,  with  their  numerous  crowded  spiucscent 
styles.  pr(;scnt  a  siiiL^ular  api»ear.mce. 


Til  VMN'i^M  \.       /<•//.  itthi  /'ri-m.—n.  i^fn. 

I'dowers  hertnaphroditi*  (or  poUtjamous  i  ?  Calyx  four-cleft.  Corolla 
four-petalled.  much  loiiL^er  than  the  calyx  :  the  a-stivation  valvate.  Stam- 
ens eii,du,  in  a  double  series,  .ill  fertile.  (  )\aries  two,  sessile  and  conn.Ue 
at  the  sunuuit  of  a  stij)*-,  each  with  five  or  -ix  i)\  ules  in  two  scries  ;  st)lcs 
imited  into  one;  stii.;ma  capitate.  C;ipsiiles  two,  sessih;  at  the  summit  ot 
sti[)e,  sub^lobose,  united  below  (one  of  them  st)melimes  abortive),  coria- 
ceous, one-  to  thn^e-serc'led.  Seeds  curveil,  with  a  short  beak,  black  and 
minutel)  wrinkled  ;  the  radicle  inferior.  Embryo  curved ;  cotyledons 
broadly  linear,  incumbent. 


'■  t 


Th  \mnii--\I  \    Ml  IS  I  \N  \.       /'(';;•.  tinJ  I- rem. 


A  shrub  of  the  heij,du  of  one  or  twf)  feet,  branchinL:  from  the  base,  with 
simple,  very  small  linear  weilj.,'^e-shaped  leaves.  The  flowers  are  ap|)ar- 
cntly  dark  |)urple,  in  loose  terminal  clusters.  i'he  whole  plant  has  a  stronij 
aromatic  odor,  and  every  part  of  it  is  covered  with  little  glandular  dots. 


<'.vJ 


.1//  ,l/('/A'.V  ('/•    .1/1    ///•/■      /('//.\'  (7/  /A7/  s    /AV  .!/('. \/: 


;M':  .it 


:b  :i' 


i'.f 


I;' 


m 


Althoiiq;h  lU-arK  allic'd  to  Xaiithoxylnm,  we  rcuiard  it  as  a  pmiliar  jj^-cnus. 
It  grows  in  tlu'  parses  of  the  iiioiinlain^,  and  on  ilv  \  irq;cn  I\i\('i-  in  Xorth- 
crn  California.  llu:  L^rfalci"  [tart  of  it  was  ahrad)  in  Iniil  in  liif  niontli  of 
May. 

Hr.anrhcs  .uid  Ir.nrs  sniootli  :  s|)in('s  stout,  niostlv  in  pairs,  straight  ; 
]-)inna-  a  simple  |>air  ;  K-atlcts  -ax  to  ri^du  pairs,  dliloni^-iinrar,  sli^^htly  fal- 
cate sonu'wliat  (.nriai-cous.  rathn-  olitusc;  spikt-s  clom^ati-i,!,  t)n  shmt  p>'- 
duncdcs  ;  coroll.i  llu'cc  tiim--,  .is  Imiu;  as  tin-  raU  \  ;  stanu'iis  ct.xscrttnl  ;  Ic^;- 
umi-  spir;ill\-  twisted  into  a  coinp.ic!  t\iin<lcr. 

A  trt'('  aWoiii  t\MiU\'  li'ct  liiu;'!!,  with  a  \fi\-  liiti.id  tnll  licid,  and.  ilu' 
lower  liraiu  Ill's  dci'ininL;  to  the  ;^round  :  the  tiiorn.  soinetinie  .  more  than 
an  inrh  Ion;,;.  I,ea\cs  snmotii  ;  tlu-  loiinnon  pctinlc  oiie  to  two  i.nchcs 
lonL.;,  and  tentiinated  li\-  .i  --pinesccnl  point  :  IcaHcts  honi  half  an  inch  to 
an  inch  loni^.  .md  om-  in  two  ]inr->  broad,  soincwh.U  cori.u'cous,  spariiK;!\- 
but  proinineiitlv  \eineii  underiK-ath.  S])ikcs  two  to  tour  inches  Ioiil.;,  .u)d 
aluuit  one-third  ot  .in  mu  ii  in  diauietei-.  Ilowers  \ello\v,  \cr\  trai;rant, 
iK-arlv  s<-ssile  on  tiie  r.iciiis.  C;il\-\  cuiipanulate,  sonieuii.it  e(]uall\-  Ip.e- 
loothc'd,  sniootli.  I'et.iU  o\,ite  .iIiIoul;,  hair\  inside.  Stamens  ten,  one- 
third  Ioniser  than  the  i Droll.i.  .\ntliei-^  tipj)ed  with  a  sli^htK  stipitaK; 
Inland.  ( )\  ar\- line.ir-ohlono.  villous;  stNic  smooth  ;  stiL;m.i  cipit.iie,  con- 
c.nc  ,it  the  extreniiiw  1  <_^umi-s  (  lustered,  spir.dK'  twisted  into  a  vvv 
close  ri^^id  c\-iinder,  whit  h  i  -  Irom  au  im  h  to  an  inch  and  ,i  li.ilt  Ikiil;,  and 
about  two  lines  in  di.imeter,  tonum:;  limn  ten  to  thirteen  turns,  m,iii\' 
seerled.  .S,ir((  uari «  pulpv  :  tiie  t  \s  I  >  '  >ppo-^i;e  -ddes  ot  tlu'  tirm  iMidot  .up 
are  eompi'essi-d  together  bet\\(  en  the  Needs,  foi-miui;  a  lon.dtiidinal  kind 
o!  septum,  wlmh  divides  the  pulp  into  two  jjarts.  Seeds  ovale,  kidp,e\- 
torin.  (  oinpres-^id,  \iv\-  smooth  .md  li.ird.  b.mbrxii  \ellouish,  surround,,  d 
\vith  .1  liuii  .dhuu-.eu. 

.\  cii.ir. uteri -til  tree  in  the  mount, linous  p,u't  of  Xorthern  C'alilorm'a. 
particularls  alon^i  tlie  Moh.du  ••  .md  \  irL;en  l\i\  cr-,  llow  c  rin  ',  the  hitter  [Mrl 
ot  April. 

I  hi-  sjx'i  ies  i)elon:.^s  to  the  section  ■ifii'tiihiHiirpii  o|  .Mr.  r.<MiiMm,* 
which   includes   \\M-.l<,iiiit>/ii>»i/>.'i/tf,t<itA    \\ild,eno\\.      In   the    aructnre 

ot   t!le  poil   it   i  ,   so  femai'k.lble  til, It    \\  e  .it   one   liuie   ree.irdcd   it  Us  .1  di-^tiuct 

genus,  to  wliii  h  we  L',a\ethe  u.ime  ot  Spirolobium. 

There  are  mimeroi.s  oilier  1  .ej.{uminos,r  in  the  <  ollection,  inclndin;^,  as 
might  be  e\peitei|,  iMa,i\-  species  of  I.ii|)inus,  .\strai^ahis,  ()wtropis,  and 
IMiaca,  some  of  whi*  h  .ue  new  ;   also,  I  Ixfrniopsi-i  rhombiiolia  ainl  montana, 


Hi 


*  III  IIokUit's  Imiin.il  (il  Uiit.iiiy,  iv.,  |>.   {51. 


VIIAI'IIIR  Ol-   KKSILTS-TOKREY  AM)  I- 1<  l:M(>.\  i: 


^'J5 


and   a   beautiful   sliruhby    I'soralcu  (ur  some   allied  geiuisj  covered  with 
l)ri''ht  violet  llowers. 


('i  'U  \M  \     I'l  II    \  I  A.        /).    Poll.    (') 


Sperimcns  ol  this  jijanl,  without  a  ticket,  were  in  the  collection  ;  doubt- 
l(;ss  olitaiiii'd  in  (  alitoriii.i.  It  iua\-  prove  ti>  be  a  distinct  s[)eci(;s  from  the 
Mexitaii  plaiU,  li>r  the  ji  a\''s  arc  uiore  divideil  than  thev  are  described  by 
|)iin.  .ind  till'  tloucrs  aii-  sm.illei".  The  l;<!uis  Cowania  is  ver\'  nearly  al- 
hcd  to  C"ercocar|ii;s  and  I'urdiia,  not\vithstani.liiiL;  its  numcroii:-.  owiries. 
I  he  lobes  of  the  calyx  are  imbricated,  as  in  those  i^enera,  and  not  valvate, 
as  in  ]\i<(h\iidi-(i\  to  whiclt  section  ii  is  r.  fcrrcnl  by  I'jullicher. 

I'uislna  trhicnlatd  tormed  a  conspicuous  object  in  se\-eral  parts  ol  the 
route,  not  oiil_\'  east  <it  die  mountains,  but  in  (  )reL;on  and  L'alilornia.  It  is 
(o\(iid  with  a  jirolusion  of  \ellow  llowers,  and  is  (piiti:  ornamental. 
Sometimes  it  attains  the  heij^ht  of  iweKe  teet. 

S^Utra  ti}  urfoliti ,  var.  liisioun  \  was  tound  on  tlie  upper  waters  ol  the 
rialte.  holdin:^  itr>  characters  so  well  that  it  should  [jerhaps  be  regarded  as 
a  disliiut  species. 


i     ' 


n 


n-".\'ilin  K\    1  I  W  1  li'KMI-        l\'i>\  ,iriJ  l-'><m. 

Lea\cs  o\ate  or  obhui-,  denticulate  ("■  toothed,  iiimiatitied  at  the  base, 
with  a  Iohl;  n.dxed  petiole  ;  scajic  with  several  small  leaves,  fi:;hl-  to  tweKc- 
llowered  ;  se^intenis  ot  the  calv\  lousier  than  the  tube  ;  capsules  clavate- 
(  \lindri(al,  nearl\'  twice  as  louu;  as  the  pedicel.  Mowers  about  as  large  as 
in  <} \  f^nuiila.      (irows  with  the  preceding. 

This  new  species  belongs  to  tlu!  section  Cliylisntia  ut  Nutl.  (  lory, 
(iiii/  (if.  /■/.  .\'.  .7w.    1,  ]).   51)6.) 


(  I'Aei  III  i;  \    ;ii  I  itiil'i  s.       T,<>  r.  ,iriJ  J'ri'm, 


I  ■ 


Annu.d  :  <atiescentl\'  stri.M)se  ;  stem  low  and  stout;  leaves  rhombico- 
\ati-.  icpandU  denticul.ite,  .irule  ;  llowers  (laree)  clustered  at  the  suiiunit 
of  the  sluMt  steiu  :  lube  of  the  c,ii\\  ue.uK'  twi.c  the  length  ol  till'  seg- 
ments ;  petals  entire,  one-third  lonL;er  than  tiie  slieluly  decliiicd  stami  iis  ; 
anthers  \er\  lone,  lived  by  the  middle  :  style  exserted  ;  capsules  |)rismatic- 
c)lindric,il. 

.Allieti  to  (/:'.  '}'it»iisii,  /on.  and  (//.,  and  belongs,  like  that  species, 
tt>  the  section  iv>  ii  Niil  "li:i  \  cUul  subsection   (hnio/u.  , 


636 


.]//:.)/(UA.s  ()/•  .i/)  ///•/•■  joiix  cnARi i:S  iKf.Mo.x r. 


(  I'.NiM  111  K A    I  \M>(  KNS.       /'(»/.  iin.i  Fr,  tn. 

Strij^ost'ly  caiKscciil  ;  Ic.ucs  n.irr<i\\I\-  l.uiciol.itc.  rather  ohtiisr,  ro- 
iiidtrU-  driuiculati' ;  flowers  i;i  a  lea!\-  r.ieeme  ;  tube  ot  the  ral\N  rather 
sleiiiler,  three  times  .Is  Ioiil;  as  the  <>\ar\-,  and  oiie-third  loi^'^er  tliaii  the 
sci^Miients  :    jut. lis  hroadK-  male,  entire. 

Iliis  species  was  eollccti'il  (  we  lielieve )  dii  the  upper  waters  of  tlic 
riatii'.  It  lieloiij^s  to  the  seetion  Mu<riU)thera,  and  to  a  suh-section  which 
inav  I'e  called  '.  1  \i  Ri  n  >ir,,  and  characteri/i-d  as  tollows:  Perennial  ditluse 
lu'rhs  :  tube  ol  the  ial\\  linear;  capsule  ohovate,  sessile,  witii  loiir-win^'d 
anL;les  and  no  interniedi.ite  ribs,  tardiK  <)|>enini;  ;  seeil.  nunierous,  hori- 
zontal ;    tile  testa  inenihranaceoiis  ;   leaves  opatpie. 

Hesides  these  new  species,  many  other  (I-.nothera  were  collected; 
amoiiiT  which  may  he  mentioned  (!'.  alhicanlii,  alyssoidc^,  inoiitaHci,  and 
Missouiit'iisis.  Also,  (/ityop/iydo!  i/iffiisitm  i  fri 'n  the  Snake  coimtry, 
;,;rowini^  about  two  teet  liigh)  Sh-nos:/>/ion  r/rj^ui/it///,  and  Gaum  coccinca. 


(■i)Ml'ii--l  I  \. 


I  m 


The  plants  (^f  this  famil\-  were  j)la(cd  in  the  hands  of  Dr.  Gray  for  ex- 
amination ;  and  ne  has  (.lescrilx'd  some  of  them  (inclmliniL;  four  new  i^enera) 
in  the  Jiosion  yournal of  Xatural  Historv  for  jamiary,  1S45.  1  le  has  sine*- 
ascertained  another  new  genus  amoiiL,'^  the  spei  imens  ;  and  we-  fully  concur 
with  him  in  the  propriety  of  iledicatini;  it  to  the  late  distinguished  I.  N. 
Nicollet,  I',s(|.,  who  spent  several  years  in  »'Xploring  tlu;  countr\'  watered 
by  the  Mississippi  and  Missouri  Rivers,  and  who  was  employed  by  the 
I'nited  States  (iovernment  in  a  survey  of  the  region  lying  betw<*en  the 
sources  of  those  riv(,*rs.  This  gentleman  exerted  himself  to  make  known 
the  botany  of  the  country  which  he  explored,  and  brouglu  hoiiu-  with  him 
an  interesting  collection  of  plants,  niaih' under  his  direction,  by  Mr.  Charles 
Geyer.  (jf  which  an  account  is  given  in  ih<'  re])ort  of  Mr.  N.  The  follow- 
ing is  the  description  of  this  genus  l)y  I  )r.  (ira)- : 


Nil  01,1. n  lA.     lirax. 


I 


"  Heads  hetcrogamous,  with  f(;\v  rays,  many  flowered.  Involucre  cam- 
panulate,  consisting  of  about  eight  oval  membranaceous  scales  in  a  single 
series  ;  th<'  base  calyculate,  with  one  or  two  smaller  scales.  Receptacle  con- 
vex, alveolate.  Corolla  of  the  ilisk  llowers  eiiually  five-toothed.  Hranches 
of  the  style  terminat«:d  by  a  subulate  hisped  appendage.  Achenia  elon- 
gated, slender,  canescently  pubescent.     I'appus  double,   scarcely  shorter 


I 


LiiAi'i IK  oi-  Ri:sri.rsi\)i<i<iy  ,i.v/)  //:/■:. ]/().v v. 


(•M 


than  th«^  corolla  ;  the  exterior  of  iiiimfrnus  scahroiis,  uii((iual  bristles  ;  the 
inner  of  five  linear-lanceolate  chalty  scales,  which  are  entire,  or  two-toothed 
at  the  summit,  and  turnishcil  with  a  stroni;  central  nerve,  which  is  pro- 
du(  ed  into  a  short  scabrous  awn.  A  humble,  branching-  (and  apparently 
annual)  herb.  !,eav<'s  alternate,  |)innatitied,  and  somewhat  tieshy  (desti- 
tute ot  glands?);  the  lobes  ami  rachis  linear.  1  leads  terminal.  solIiar\, 
n<'arly  sessile,  larvae  (about  an  inch  lon^^n,  with  one-  or  two  involucratc 
leaves  at  the  base.      Corolla  yellow. " 


■!i 


Nil 'Ml  MIX   "II  iDKN- r  \i !-.      (,'r,n: 


l.i 


On  the  banks  ol  the  Mohaiue  Ki\(r,  i^rowin-  in  naked  sands;  tlower- 
inj:^  in  April.  Ihe  plant  h.is  ,i  powertul  and  rather  aLfreeable  odor.  This 
interesting;  i^enus  (which  is  ch-scribed  trom  impertect  materials)  belonc^s  to 
the  tribe  Sr.M  (  lOMin  v,  and  the  sub  tribe  'r.\(,rriM:  i .  It  has  the  habit  ol 
I  )issodia,  and  exhibits  both  th(;  chatiV  pappus  ot"  the  division  Zi/^rAvr,  and 
the  />(i/>/>us  pilosHS  of  Poyophyltiim*      d'ray. 


I-'kAV-lKl  \    mM'"~\.      O'/'./r. 

Shrubby,  much  branihe<l  ;  leaves  pinnatihed,  canescent  on  botli  sides, 
as  are  the  branchlets  ;  the  divisions  three  to  seven,  oval,  entire,  anil  some- 
what lobed  ;  heads  rather  looselv  spiked  ;  involucre  of  the  sterile  tlowers 
five-  to  seven-clelt,  strij^oselv  canescent;  ot  the  t'-rtile,  ovoid,  two-celled, 
two-flowered. 

A  shrui),  one  to  two  leei  \\\'^\\.  with  divaricate  ri.L,dd  branches.  Le.ives 
scarcely  an  inch  lonj;.  l-ertile  (immature)  involucre  tlothetl  with  straight 
soft  lanceolate-subulate  prickles,  which  are  short  m\^\  scale-like. 

(  )n  the  sandv  uplands  of  the;  Nb)hah\c  River,  and  \-er\-  iDinmon  in  all 
that  rii^ion  ..f  North  C'.ilitornia.      ilowcn'im^'  in  April. 


Am^ 


iM  \     1.  >MI  N  rii-.\. 


/'.'>!  .    ,111./   /•>■///. 


-SuftVutescent  :  clothed  with  a  dense  whitish  pubescence  :  leaves  l.inceo- 
late  .uid  ovate-lanceolati',  aiute  at  each  em'  :  seL;inents  of  the  calyx  lanceo- 
late-subulate ;  corolla  slightly  hairy  externalK  . 

Steins  numerous,  erect,  twelve  to  eighteen  inches  high,  wooily,  below- 
simple  or  branching.      Lea\-es  alternate  ;   the  lowest  small  ami   s|)atulate, 

•  It  ^llo^ll(l  1)1-  ^t.itrd  licic,  ili.it  the  iiutuc  111  tlu>  ^;cii\is  In   Dr.  i,t.\\  ».is  ili.iwii  up  m  Lalinj 
but  \M'  li.ivc  ^wiu  It  m  linyli^h,  lint  it  may  tic  utiitoiiii  »i!li  oui  hvmi  iKm  riptioii. 


;     I 


(,.;S 


.]// .\/<uA's  or  ,1/j  /.//•/    /(>//.\  (7/./A7/.S  //a'^ro.xr. 


(ir  rcdiicccl  \o  scales;  tlic  dthcrs  about  tun  iiulu>s  Ioiil^,  and  varyinj^  from 
tour  to  cii^ht  lines  in  hn.uith;  entire  aruininate  at  the  base.  Mowers  in 
rather  den^e,  sonieuiuil  tasti^iate  terminal  <lu  .ter>,  nearly  three-tourths  of 
.\\\  iiH'h  Ion:;.  <.-".ilv\  about  one-third  the  leni^lh  ot  the  corolla,  tive-paited 
ti)  the  base;  the  x^inents  narrow  and  b.aii'w  C  orolla  with  the  tube  \cii- 
trii'ost;  abo\  I' ;  tiie  si-j^Mni-iUs  o\  ate  oblonv.  Stamens  includt:d  :  lilaments 
short:  anthers  o\  ate-sav;inate.  (h.u'ies  obloni^^  united  below,  distinct 
above,  smooth;  st\le  slcnthr ;  stij;nui  i.qiitate,  with  .i  membranaceous 
collar  ;U  the  base. 

I  he  s|iecimen^  ol  thi  >  [il.uit  wt-re  w  itiiout  tickt-ts  ;   but  the\'  were  proba- 
bl\-  collected  we-^l  of  the   l\o(:k\-   Mountains.       Thex'  were  without  Iruit. 


.\-'iiii\-   -ill  i<)~v       /'.'»'.  /'/  .///'/.  /  ii .  .\V:i'   )',•>',-,  W,/'.  -mS. 

This  fas  was  stated  in  the-  tirst  report)  is  .1.  Jhvt^/iisii  of  1  Iook<'r,  well 
tiLijnred  in  his  "  Idora  l^orciili  .\nieri(  ;ui;i,"  :,  t.  1.42.  It  h;is  a  wide  rani^c, 
bein^  found  on  both  sides  ol  tlv  l\o(k\-  Moimtaiiis,  wwA  Irom  the  sources 
til  the  St.  Peter's  to  those  ot  the  K.uis.is  ;md  C'.uiadian.  Ihe  truit  was 
collecti'<l  Irom  specimeus  on  tin-  lianks  oi  tin-  .Su.d-^e  l\i\(r.  it  is  idmosi 
exactb'  like  th.U  ol  , /.  Count/:.  b<in\;'  inlkittd,  wooll\-,  and  i:oviTed  with 
solt  spines. 


: 


il;    'J.'i 


.\iik\iv-    i\iiiiiii\.       I\>n  .  iiiul  I'l  nil. 

Stem  simple,  erect,  smooth  ;  leavers  roundish-ov;ite,  nearlv  sessile,  ob- 
tuse, with  a  small  mucro,  smooth  on  both  sides  ;  umbel  solitary,  on  a  ter- 
min;il  jK'duncle,  tew-llowcred  ;  pediceU  slcnd'-r  ;  sr^Muents  ol  the  lorolla 
ovatedanc:eolate  ;  lobes  of  the  crown  semilun.ir-ovati-,  as  loiu'  as  the  col- 
umn,  r.ither  obtuse,  ciicullate, 

( )n  <."ireeii  Ki'vir,  .1  tribi;t.u\  <if  the  (."olor.uio  of  the  West;  lune. 
.About  .1  sp.m  \\.:\\.      !,e.i\-es  .ibout  .m  iiu  h  ,uid  ,i  luilf  Ion.;,  .Mul  more  than 


.in   UK  n  Wlije 
seen. 


lou(  r-    tew.  \cr\   Lus'c,    ,uip,ir(  ntl\'  \(!'owish. 


ruit    not 


Kk|Oi;i>\i  \|   INHAMM.        'l'.'>f.,i>iJi'ihll. 


Smooth,  bi-trichoionious  ;  tin-  lower  part,  an<i  sometimes  the  two 
priinar\-  ili\  i-ioir^  oi  the  st<  m,  much  inll.ited  and  rl.n  ,ite  ;  |)edunc|es  di\  ,ui- 
cately  br;uiched,  the  uitim.i'e  di\i  ,ions  tilitirm  and  •  i)!itar\' ;   in\()lucre  lew- 

ilowered,    sltMdtll   ;     the   teith   .■iHl.ll,    erect. 

Ihe  spei  imeiis  d  ihisi/kuit  .u'e  imperl(<(.  bi  in;;  distilute  ol  le.ixcs, 
which  are   prob,dil\   who!l\   r.ulic;d.      It    is  afoot    or  more   hi'-h.       Ihe  tu'st 


!l  i 


cffA/'/f-K  or  Ri-srirs    'iorr'-y  axp  i-ri':mo.\t. 


r,i, 


]') 


joint  of  the  stiin.  or  rather  scajx',  is  rcniarkahly  diialcd  am!  fiHtiilar  up- 
waril.  1  his  (H\i(|(s  into  tlircc  or  more  l)raiuli(;s,  the  two  primary  ones  of 
whiili  arc  soniciiincs  inllatcd  Ukf  thr  first  ;  ihi-  sulnlivisions  arc  diclioto- 
nioiis.  with  a  pedicellate  in\iiliicre  in  each  fork.  The  involucres  arc  about 
a  line  in  diameter,  smooth,  live-  to  six-tlowcrcil  ;  and,  in  all  the  specimens 
fh.it  i  ex.unined,  onl\-  tive  toothed.  The  plant  was  ft)uiul  on  barren  hills 
ill  the  lower  part  of  North  California. 


Annual  ;  leaves  radical,  on  Ioul^-  petic^lcs,  rcniform,  clothed  with  a  dense 
hoary  tomentum  ;  stem  sc,ip(.'like,  naked,  three  forked  from  th(!  base- 
L;laucoiis,  and  ne.u'ly  smooth  ;  the  divisions  div.irica'.ely  two-  to  three- 
lorked  ;  involucres  tu  o  to  tour  together,  on  slender  pt;duncles,  smooth, 
<ampanul. Uc,  live  toothe(|,  the  teeth  nearly  cciual,  obtuse;  perigonium 
smooth. 

(  )n  the  .Sacr.imenlo  River;  M.u'.  h.  .\llied  to  /;".  ri»n>icuni  of  Ben- 
tham.      .\  Mu.ill  specirN,  with  \vx\  minute  ilowers. 


'it 


I-!lMiii.n\i  M  ,  .)K|i\l  1  M.        /;>//.    anJ  I'r,  III. 

.•\nnu;il  ;  leaves  all  r;idic;il,  on  lon^;'  petioles,  roundish-ovate,  cordate, 
\cr\-  obtuse,  slightly  pubescent  above,  h.u'rN'  underne.ith ;  scapf;  naked, 
slender,  smooth  ;ind  t,d.uieous  divaricately  branched,  the  di\isions  slender  ; 
involucres  solit.iry,  on  tiliform  peduncles,  campanulate,  smooth,  t]\e- 
toothed,  the  teeth  ne.u"l\-  e(iu;d,  r.uher  obtuse  ;    peritj^onium  h.iiry. 

With  the  ])recedinL;,  trom  which  it  is  e;isily  ilistinLiui^hetl  by  the  form 
oi  its  le.ives  ;uid  color  ot  the  pidiescence,  uumy  other  species  of  this  t;('iuis 
were  collected  in  C.diform'.i  .uid  the  Sn.d<e  lountrw  some  of  which  are 
prob.dily  new,  and  will  be  tlescrib<'d  in  thi'  next  report. 


l'"l;lMuS  \\\    \  \-\\\{Wr\  \i;l- 


•/;. 


/'/  /■/(•'//.,    I  <t  ri-fort. 


This  curious  pl.mt  is  ;ilw;i\s  lound  in  s;iline  soils,  or  wi1(M'(>  the  atmo- 
spher'-  is  s.iline.  Its  i^re;ite^t  liei^^ht  is  ei;du  teet  It  is  a  ch;iracteristic 
ttature  ol  the  veiMi;ition  throuL^hoiil  .i  ;^rcat  y.wi  ol  ()rei.;on  and  North 
( '.ilitorni.i.  .\bout  Brown  ■<  Hole,  on  (irecn  Rixcr,  it  occu[)i<'s  ;ilniost  e.x- 
tlu--i\tl\'  till-  /'('/A'w.v  ot  till'  nei._;hborini;  streams.  It  is  abuiulant  also  on 
the  shores  of  .i  s.ilt  kike  in  l.ititude  ^"^  and  loiii^itude  i  i  ;  ;  and  constantly 
occurs  in  the  i^Iesert  re:;ion  south  of  the  Columbia,  anil  between  titc  Cas- 


I'  • 


640 


Ml   \H'II<.\   i\>      .')•  /.;  A     /('//\'  ill\Rll  S  IKfMOXT. 


■!!;  .1 


cade  raiiL^f  .ukI   tiic  l\iuk\    Mduntaiiis,  .is   t.ir  south   ,1     l.ititiKlc  _;.j'.      The 
branclu's,  wluii  oM,  hicoim"  spiiiv.  as  in  inan\  other  plants  of  this  taniily. 

Sinrc  the  (h'scription  n|  this  ^nuis  was  piiliiishcd  in  the  lirst  rc|)ort 
(M.irch,  i''^.|,;  N'ci's  has  L^ivcn  it  the  naini'  oT  S  \K(  oua  n  s  ;  antl  l)r.  Sen- 
bnt  has  j(ul)hshtil  an  account  ot  it,  w  ith  a  tiLjiirf,  in  ihr  Hotanist  he  /.n- 
/uiii^  Uir  1  S.J.}.  This  wc  have  not  yet  seen  ;  Imt,  from  the  rctnarks  ol  I  )r. 
Liiul!i'\  .  w  ho  has  L;i\  <n  a  note  on  llic  L;('inis  in  I  looker's  yournal  of  /u'/aay 
for  Iaiui.ir\,  iS)-;,ii  wouM  seem  that  soniedouht  i-xisted  ,'anon^  lun-o|i<Mn 
botanists  ,is  to  its  atlinities,  as  the\'  hail  not  seen  the  ri]"'  seeds.  1  hese 
we  have  Iohl;  possessed,  and  uidiesitatin!.;l\  rt:lerred  it  to  (."henopodiacia  . 
We  r(^-L;ret  that  our  sketches  of  the  staniin.ite  (lowers  were  mislaid  when 
the  artist  was  en^raxin;^  the  tli^iirc. 


iifi 


()i'.ii>\i  I  (INI  1  K  1  n  Ml  lA.      I'ti't .  tiihi  /■'>■!  m. 

Stem  puhesrent,  ni.ich  Uranched,  erert  :  leaves  alternate,  ovate,  rather 
oliluse,  petiolate,  nuich  crowded,  entire-,  somewhat  (  oriaceoiis,  white  with 
a  mealy  crust;  bracts  broadlv  o\ate,  obtuse,  intire,  and  the  sides  without 
apjH'nil.iL,'^es  or  tuiiercles. 

.\  --mall  shrub,  with  ri^id  i  rookeil  and  soinewh.it  spinescent  br.mches, 
:ind  ot  ,1  whitish  .ispect.  l.eavo  \arvini;  tVoin  one-third  to  h.dl  an  incli  in 
leiii^th,  abrupt!)'  narrowed  at  the  b.ise  into  ,1  p-tiole,  thiikU  ilothed  wila  a 
white  mealy  substance. 

blowers  aitparentl\-  diocious.  .Sterile  not  seen.  Bracts  ol  the  triiit 
three  to  four  lines  Ioul;.  united  .ibout  h.ilf  wa\  up,  distinct  above,  indui'.ited 
at  th<'  l)ase.  .Stvles  distinct.  b'ric.iip  vei\  thin,  .Seed  rouinlish  ov  ,ue, 
rostell.'ite  iipvv.ird:    the  test.i  ( ori.ueou,.      I'mbrvo  two-thirds  of  a  circle. 

()n  the  borders  of  the  (ireat  Salt  Lake.  Irom  the  ih-scription  ot  (K 
coriaciir,  .Mo(|.,  our  plant  seems  to  be  .1  ne.ir  alK'  ol  th.it  s|)ecies. 


'  I'iJ    d- 


iiiHn 


% 


V\  1 1 


nc  urrnv. 


,/'/,/  /■'    HI.  —  //.  X''". 


Flowers     diacinus.       .SivMiNvii:  .      .       i'ls  nil  A 1 1".       PeriMcmium 

ovoid-tubular,  leur-w  iiiL^'d,  tuotoothed  .at  the  summit.  ()\ar\'  roundish; 
st\le  short  ;  sti^m.-is  Iwd,  line.ir.  <  )v  iile  solitary,  ascending  from  the  base 
of  the  ov;ir\'.  cimpulitropous.  Iructiferous  perianth  indurated,  broadly 
four-winded^  clos(;d,  uHnulel\-  two-tooihed  at  the  summit  :  tlu;  vvinL;s  v  eined 
and  irrei^ailarly  toothed.  I'tricle  very  thin  .md  meml)r.in.i(  eous,  Iree. 
Seed  ov.ite,  somewhat  compressed  ;  the  podosperm  l.iter.il  and  verv  dis- 
tinct, rostrate-  upvv.ird.  bUeMuuient  doulile,  the  exterior  somewhat  coriace- 
ous, brownish,  the  inner  one  thin,  banbryo  nearly  a  circle,  surrounding 
copious  mealy  albumen. 


.     Tlu- 

iiniiK . 

r<i)(>it 
)r.  Sen- 
he  /.n- 
s  of  Dr. 

iir<>p<aii 

niliari.i'. 
(1    wlicn 


c,  ratlur 

lite  wilh 

witluiut 

ranclics, 
II  inch  ill 
•x\  \\  iili  .1 

the  fruit 
mlui'atiil 
sh-dvatc. 

circh'. 
;)n    of  (  K 


riLjoniuiu 

■()\iiulish  ; 

the  hasf 

hi'dally 

j^s  \  ciiiiil 

UUS.     Il'l'. 

very  ili"!- 
.t  (oriacc- 
rrouiulin^r 


D 


.4 

H 
< 
4 

0, 


Z 


z 

U 
H 

t/3 


O 

o 
s 


< 

D 

s 

> 


o 
S 

u 
K 
u. 


m  'k 


m 


r// //'// A'  r'/'  A'/.sy  7 /.s     .\7»/7    /h'OM  r/\i^/    //(  i:/![h-/>. 


'nr 


I'  1 1  i;i  II  III  I  MS  I II  I  iiii  \  I  \i  I  .      /',■>  I .  itnd  /■mn. 

All  unarmed  slinil),  oiir  in  two  Icrl  lii^li,  with  ihipi'Toiis  slander 
hiaiii  hfs,  which  arr  clothed  with  a  Lirasi-^h  ixariy  smooth  li.irk.  Leaves 
alternate  or  fasciculate,  linear  ol)lanceolate,  n.irrowed  at  the  base,  llat,  en- 
tire, (()\ereil  with  .i  wiiitish  ineal\'  i  rust.  I'lowers  somewhat  racemose,  on 
.short  |)edicels.  I'ructiteron  ,  i  al\  \,  uitli  the  wiiiLjs  two  to  three  lines  wide, 
.semi  (irbiiular,  coriaceo-memhranaceoiis,  mealy  like  the  leaves,  siron^dy 
\cined  ;  the  marL,nn  more  or  less  toothed.  I'tricltr  free  from  the  indurated 
cavity  of  tlie  perianlh,  extremely  thin  and  transparent.  ScchI  conformed 
to  the  utricle,  the  cons])icuous  podosperm  passing;  aloni^^  its  side;  tlie  beak 
[)ointin^f  obli(|uel\'  upward. 

This  is  one  ot  the  lumierous  ^hrul)l)\  plants  of  th<'  Chcnopodiaceou  . 
family  that  constitute  a  l.irs^t-  part  <.•>{  the  vei^'etation  in  tlie  saline  soils  ot 
the  west.  Ihe  |)recise  locality  of  this  plant  we  cannot  indicate,  as  the  label 
was  ille_i;ible  ;  but  it  was  probably  from  the  borders  of  the  dreat  Salt  Lake. 
It  is  alli«'d  to  Cjrayia  of  I  looker  and  Arnolt,  a  shrub  of  the  same  famil\-. 
which  w.is  found  in  sexcral  places  on  both  sides  of  the  Rocky  Mountain^. 
often  in  j^reat  abuntlamc 


V 


Leaves  solitary,  or  ver\  rarely  in  pairs,  with  scarcely  any  sheaths,  stout 
an*'  ri^dd,  somewhat  puni^ent  ;  (ones  ovoid,  the  scales  with  a  thick  obtusely 
p\ramiil>il  and  protuberant  summit,  unarmetl  ;   seeds  lari^e,  without  .i  win;.;. 

A  tree  with  verticillate  lir.uiches  .wid  cyliiulrical-clavate  buils,  which  are 
about  three-fourths  ot  .m  inch  in  lenL,'th.  Che  leaves  are  from  an  inth  to 
two  .i:ul  a  half  inclu's  loni;  :  often  more  or  less  curveti,  scatteretl,  very  stout, 
terete  (except  in  the  very  rare  case  of  their  beini,''  in  pairs,  when  they  are 
semi  cvlindrical )  ending  in  .i  s[)iny  tip.  Cones  about  two  and  a  half  inches 
loiii,',  and  an  inch  and  three-tourths  broad  in  the  widest  part.  Ihe  scales 
are  of  a  li;dit  brown  color,  thii  k  ;  th<'  summit  obtusel\  pyramidal  and  some- 
what recur\eil,  but  without  an\  point.  The  seeds  are  olilon^;^,  about  half 
an  inch  loni;,  without  a  win;.;  ;  or  rather  the  win^'  is  iiulissolubly  adherent 
to  the  scale.  The  kernel  is  of  a  \<-rv  pleasant  t1a\'or,  resemblinjif  that  ot 
Piitu^  I'cnihra. 

This  tree,  which  is  remark.ible  amoiiL,'  the  true  pines  tor  its  solitary 
leaves,  is  extensively  tlittused  o\er  the  mountains  of  Northern  California, 
from  lonj^itiide  i  ii  to  i .'( >  ,  and  throu^jh  a  consiilerable  ranj^e  of  latitude. 
It  is  alluded  to  re[K;atedly,  in  the  course  of  the  iutrrative,  as  the  tint  f^i tic. 
The  Conifera-  of  the  collection  were  numerous,  anil  sufferetl  less  than 
most  of  the  other  pl.ints.  Some  of  them  do  not  appear  to  have  been  hith- 
erto described.       There  was  also  an  Lphedra,  wh     .  does  not  ditfer  essen- 


«.(.'  .1//  IA>/A'.s  ('/     l/J    IIFh-JOlIX  Cll  \KIIS  IKf.MOST. 


ir  :'- 


tial!\'  troin  /:'.  occuicnUilii,  lound  in  ,u;i'<mi  plriit)  dii   llu:   sandy  uplamls  of 
th<    Moll. llu  f  I\i\  IT. 

riatf  I.  .\U(  iMi'i.  (1N  C\i:ioi<M.  I  \i.  /•'/;,'•  S,  .1  stamen,  ftuxi^tiijicii : 
jii^.  II,  an  ovulf,  iihfi^ttifiiJ :  fn;.  i  .\  ia|isulf.  ihi/urn/  u  u- :  //\'.  5,  ( ,/ ) 
sti_v;ni.i,  Wi/j," /,■;//(■</,■  //;'.  6.  thr  saiin'  i  nt  h".-i/«)ntally.  showiii;.;  the  sutures; 
y/^'.  !_;,  a  '-.e'cil,  /;/(/;•;////(•(/,•_//;•.  i.|.  purtion  t>t  a  !i,iir  tr<>ni  tiu-  leal,  w./^--- 
iiiti<-ii  :  fiK-  /"•  '>ristlf  iVtuM  the  rxlnntily  nl  a  Icil  lolic,  ni.ijfttijitii .  jii's.  9 
ami  10,  Ica\ts,  r.i/mii/  s/:t'. 

Plate  ,;.  1'kii-"|  is  ,mhik\i  \.  /•"/^•.  i.  .1  ilouci-,  W(/;v////(v/ ;  //;•.  j.  |iistil. 
vhii^iiifiii/ :   /i\'.    ;,  I  Instir  nt'ri|ir  1<  ;^nni<'s,  ihi/iitii/  sl:t\ 

IMatr  ^v  I'lUNi.'N  1 1 A  \i  KMi(  11  .\i;i>.  /•/;,■.  1,  a  \(Ty  \<>nn^'  tcrtilr  tlowcr, 
ma^ni/itiil ;  /z^*.  ,:,  an  ovule,  vta^nilhJ :  /.;'.  ;,  .1  tertile  tlnwer  niore  .id- 
vancfrd,  miii^uifitd :  fii;.  S.  .1  fei'tiN-  llowi  r  ,it  in.iturit\-,  showing  the  lno.id- 
win^ed  liorder  o|  tile  (al\\.  i>!,ti;itifit\/ :  fi';.  ~,  tlu!  same  cut  \ei-tii,ill\  :  //;'. 
().   til'-   same    cut    liori/ontally  :    //;•.  5.  a   ^eed,    w.i^nifhJ :   fi.-.     \,  euiluvo, 

7«(/^'/7 ///(•(/. 

ri.lte  4.  PlM  s  Mii\(Miivi.i,i  -..  /-'i^.  1(1.  .1  l)i:<l,  ;/,////;,// .\/-('  ,•  //;',v.  I^ 
14.  I  5,  and  I'),  le.ui's,  i/iZ/ifii/  sic,- :  //V.  1  j,  section  olasinj^de  le.it':  //\\  \-, 
section  ot  ,1  pair  ot  le.i\es;  //;■.  iX,  ,i  <i)ni-,  uiifioii/  m'  :<  :  /i-^.  k/,  a  ^e.de, 
as  si-tii  Irom  tlie  o\itsid<' ;   //;•.   1  1,  insid*'  \ie\v  ot  the  s.une. 


I.  Note  linin  Priifc'-'Mir   IIiiMiml  '■>!   tlie   N:itii  iiial    ( )tis<-i  vatni  v,  \\'.i>liiiigtiiii  ("itvl,  do- 

sriibiiii;  liii-  iiistriiiiiriits  iisc,i  !iy  .1  ('.  I'ri'iU' Hit  111  making  tin-  ;i--iriiii()iiiir:il  111) 
scivatiiiiis  in  tiib  third  oi  la^t  i-xiicditimi,  .ind  the  im-thnd-.  t'illw\vc-d  l.v  Pi..t>-.-.,i 
lliibli.nil  in  rei'iicintf  tln'iii. 

II.  A  I, dill-  ul  astronniuual  nh'itr  vat  ions   iii.idc   l.y   I.  (  .   In  iin.iit   at   tli.-  f'Mii  piiiuip.d 

statioMN  drtcriiiiiM'd  in  ^!u^  tliini  expciiilii^n.  iiaiiiclv  :  i,  I'lic  tiiiMiili  nf  I-'.iiit.iinc 
(>iii  liniiit.  on  the  rppcr  Aikansas.  .',  Siaithcistciii  shuic  ut  the  (ircat  S.ilt 
I.akr.  ^,  I.as-('ir>  I'ariii,  I  tecr  Creek,  in  the  \'allcv  of  the  SacraniiMiln.  .).  I  h-- 
I  iiMc  |{ntle-,  \'aliev  nf  the  Sai  i  amnili) 

II I.  A  talilc  n[  latitiidi   •  ami   liiiii^itiide--,  di'iiih  ed   ftuiii    the   furetcniiii;  astruuonii(  al   uh- 

servation>.  lali     '.ated  l»v  Pn. lessor  llidiliani. 


I      \o|  I      I  K(  .\)    Pi<,  ,1  Kssn,,     I  1 


I   I'H.AKI'. 


'I'he  iiistruiiu  nt'    empIo_\<-d   in  tin-   ditennination  of  .islrononiical  posi- 
tions w  ere  : 

A  porlaMe  tranMt  instrument,  liy  N'oiui-,  of  I'hilaclelphia. 

A  sextant.  li\-  'l'rou;.'hton. 

A  sextant,  liy  ( i.imliey. 

'Iw'i  iMicket  t  hroiiometers  (  Xos.  .1  ;S 


eters  (Xos.  .(;,S  .ind    pf.O.  l'\'  A|)pletoi 


The  tran-at   instrument 


dclpl 


as  made  hy  Mr.  \\  ilhani  J.  N' 


OUtlL',    o 


t  riuia- 


lia.      The  lenj^fth  of  the  telescope  was  jo  inches,  the  iliaineter  ^^i  the 


< 

H 
O 


-< 

0. 


J.     - 


s. 


•^"     r^Sc'^'V' 


^M 


A 


•7--- ^i«>,  ^ 


^Brri.iHt'1 


1.1 


o 
J 

14 


? 

Q 
< 


O 

K 
0. 


!'   i 


l|- 


■^P^ 


ciiM-n  i<  or  Niisri  rs    xorr.  /rom  pRor.  jirni^.^iai        n.,, 

ca,jcct  L^lass  ,\  inrhrs.  an.l   thr  axis  ,,.  inches   t),.iw,:,:n  llw  shuuhlrrs       A 
cvK-   uas   attarlw.l    to   ih,,-    instrument,  having    a    .lianu-fr    nf    ,,    inches 
Ki-.uh.atr.l    t..   i-ra.i    I.,    ,,,   srcn-ls.  and    luniish,..!    uith    3    verniers.      The 
St. 111(1  was  ot  iron,  and  loin-  Icei  in  height. 

01  the  sextants,  the  .nv  l,y  (.,unC.y,  a  n,u  inUrument.  wa.  nu,st  fVe- 
<!n.MUly  US,..!.  Th-  other,  hv  Tp,u,!uMn.  i.  th.-  .an,.-  that  was  c.n-ric.l  in 
tH'JMvv.ous  ex,.lor.mon.  an-I  u.is  n  uv  only  ns,..l  in  oh.ervui:;  at  ni.du  its 
"'^"l''*l  •"•^-  •"•".,;  niorr  r.'.uhiy  ilhunin.it.-d  than  th.u  of  the  other  fh<-  in- 
cl.-x  errors  ol  l.oth  u.-re  earrtnily  and  ottm  d-.te^rniin-.d,  in  <,rder  that  any 
possible  (h.in-<-  ol  adjustni.nt  mi-ht  l.e  r.'.idily  d-tect.d. 

The  sextant  ohsrrvalion  ,  mnsi  .t  of  sin.^le  altitudes  ofa  star  or  the  sun 
I"'    ^""'■'  •""i   "'    ''"'^"is   or  a  si.u-   in   the   south,  tor  latitude.      Thev  have 

' ■;  ''<''l'"'''l    '"    'I'-'   nsu.d    nunner,  thefornuil.e  l.rin^rtoo   well  known    to 

'"■'"  .l"'>tn„;.  Ail  th..  I.aiiu.les,  and  th--  sev.-ral  links  (,t  th-  eh.dn  of 
lon:^Mtudes  eonne.ini.^  tiir  prini.irv  stations,  d.'p.Mid  upon  ih<-  d.ita  thus 
liirnished.  In  drducin.^;  the  dilt-Tences  ..f  lon-itu<le.  in  order  to  oin  iaf 
-'  tar  as  po,s,j,le.  .ill  error  .irisin^;  h'om  <t<  entrirhv  of  thr  sextant  or  any 
hk.-  .-auM-,  eonipanson  h,,s  1.,.,,,  mad,-,  when  praetirahie.  with  ol.servations 
ni  the  s.inii-  (|u,n-l(r  ol  th.-  hc.i\  ens. 

The  r.it.'s  of  th<-  rhr..n..m.-t.'r-.  depeed  entindv  upon  s.'xtant  <  l.^Tva- 
"""■■•  ■'■'>'■  <<''ni.aris,,n  of  th.-s,-  r.ites,  .h'ternun.-'d  at  different  times  .ui  1 
under  dilU-rent  circuntstancs  of  eiiniate  and  usai^e.  has  shown  that  hut  one 
<.l  the  chronometers  (  Xe,.  4;,S)  was  .'ntitled  t.,  conlidcnc.^  All  diff.-n-nces 
(.1  lon-itude  from  the  [)rin<ipal  stations  hav(-  therefore  he(>n  determined  hy 
th:s  one,,ind  the  r.'sults  thus  ohtamed  are,  as  will  hereafter  he  se<m.  highly 
satis|.ut..ry.  Th«-  followin-  are  th-  ,.l.s,-rv<ul  rates,  deduced,  with  but  a 
sm-le  rx.eotion.  from  allitud,-,  of  the  sim  ;  th,-  si-n  -\-  indicates  a  -ainin  •■ 
r.it(-  :  ■''  "^ 

'"'l'-''>^-'l'    Uk..       ., «Vt.,lHT,4tu(..t„lH-r;o.   .S45  ,.  o.S,S{  t",7 

'■'-""■''"'•'■-■ ■•     ^^•!)ru...v  II  to  l\-hni..rv  1.MS40..  ..-^  .  ,,/, 

M.ir.li  50  to  April  14.  iS4'p  . . ,  '^  \k)\ 

A|.ni  u  to  M,,v  .-.•.  i.sjf, ;  ^.  r,^^'^ 

1  he  uiiole  route  h.i-,  been  di\id,-d  into  thr.-.-  distinct  lin.-s.  Th.-  hrst. 
commencing  .it  i'-.-nt's  l-',.rt.  .-xLiuK  to  th.-  camp  of  |.mu.ir\-  4,  \^.\>^.  IT,,. 
chn.n.Ku.  !.-rs  u,  r--  th.n  for  ,1  tim.-  subject, -d  to  ,1  r.ipid  trav.-l  cn.-r  a  rou^h 
road,  .u,.l  th  ir  r.il,-s  were  ih,-r,by  .han-.-.l.  I  he  s,-,  ,.nd  line  commences 
With  th,-  I,  i;.4im.i  i-'.irm,  b-.tw.-.-n  whi.-li  and  tii,-  cunp  of  |aiuiar\-  .(th  no  ob- 
s,r\-.itions  u,-re  m.ide.  and  (-\tends  t.)  th.-  c.im|.  A  .M.irch  ;oth  to  April 
i.|lh.  wh,-r.-  th.-  (hron..m.-t,-rs  siopj,,-.!.  .md  .ui..th,-r  chaii-e  of  r.ite  took 


644 


.\n  .\t(yNs  ('/■■  ,i/r  /////('//a-  r//.\h-//s  /■■h'/:\ro\r. 


\)\mv.      '\'\\v.  List   line  txtrniU   troin    \\\\^  ciini)  to   that:  oi    |unc    ~lli,    after 
wliicli  date  no  inorf  lonL;itihi<".  were  lictcniiini'd. 

['>\-  ronihiniiiL^  th<-  ,il)o\c  rales  tor  the  same  lin(",  i^iving  to  cat  h  a 
wcis^ht  r(iuival(iU  to  the  luiinhrrot  davs  clapsrd  lu-twcni  tlic  uhscrvatioii-, 
on  which  it  lU'iniul  ■,  \vc  y^rx  tile  follow  iiii^' : 

A'(//(.i  if  i/iri>Hi>iiu-ti-r  .Xo.  4  ;S. 

s. 
August  ;:  I  ,  1.'^.;;.  to  J.uni.iry  4,   1.S46 -f    ^   36J 

I\  l)ni.u  y  iS,  \^\i\  1.1  M.udi  ;,o,  iS4(i         4-   2. 175 

April  14.  1S46,  ti)  juiif  -.  iS4ri   ♦    J. 980 


W: 


V.    li;!, 


mm  II 


itivi 


w    I ' 

4a H  •       lit 

IP  ^  ^ 

i  11 : 


II 


The  transit  instrunimt  ha^  ;_;i\-<Mi.  li\-  moon  culminations,  the  lon;;i- 
tuclcs  ol'  tour  cauijts  u  ith  an  aicurai  )■  mnrh  mort"  than  suiticicnt  for  onii- 
nar»'  ^coi^raphical  i»urj)o->cs.  rh<sc  caniii-.  l)fini;  connrctcfl.  as  we  have 
alrcadv  seen,  h\  chronomctrir  dilt(.'r<'n(  rs.  an  excellent  t  heck  ol  the  \vhol<' 
wHirk  is  thus  altorded.  When  we  reirenil)er  that  an  error  otdne  second 
ot  time  in  the  ol)ser\(d  transit  ot  th>-  moon  induces  an  .ncra'^c  error  in 
the  resultin;^'  louL^ilude  of  the  |ilai f  ot  nearl\-  se\en  minut's  ot  arc,  the 
ae;^reement  ot"  these  imlepeiident  determinations,  thus  reterred  to  the  same 
point,  is  unexpecteilly  i:,;r<Ml.  The  lollowini,'  is  tlu;  method  by  which  the 
transit  observations  have  been  reduiid  : 

An  estim.ited  loiiL^itude  for  eat  h  ot  the  c.un])S  in  ([uestion  .i,m\  e  the 
means  ol  computinL;'.  with  sutlicient  act  urac\ ,  tlu'  "tabular  mean  time  ot 
transit  "  ot  the  stars  observed;  tlvir  ])lace,in  thehe.ucns  l)<in<4  taken 
from  the  cataloLjue  ot  th'-  I^ritish  .\sso<  i.ition.  The  "  observed  mean 
time  of  transit  "  was  next  to  be  obt.iinefl.  Where  the  passa^^e  of  tlu-  star 
over  all  the  wires  had  been  nbserxed,  th'-  me.ui,  reduced  to  the  middle 
wire,  ',.%i\e  at  once  the  time  sou'^dit.  bor  I'le  purpose  ol  correctiuL;'  imper- 
fect   transit--,   a    det'Tinin.itiou    ot    the    e(|uatori.d    intervals  ot    tlu!    transit 


wu'es  was  nece  .^ar\ 


iiese  Wires  w  <  re  orii"  inall\-  se\eii  in  numl)er;   tlieir 


inter\al-.  tre^.ivcn  below  1  I.  >.  Thev  \\  -re  broken  mit  attei'  (  )ctober  :;  1 . 
1S45,  and  were  rejikucd  b\  .1  sei  it  ti\'  ill.i,  which  in  their  turn  were 
Ijroken,  and  the  last  set  (III.)  ineriecl.  (  )t  these  last  tlu;  second  wire 
was  broken  betore  the  ( ommeiiceni'-n!  ol  ob  .i-r\  ations,  and  the  reduction 
of  the  ine.m  id  the  mi<ldle  wire  ot  cour  <e  includes  the  correction  lor  tin* 
deticient  \-.  The  tollowiuL;,  then,  are  the  ado|)teil  inti'rwds  of  the  several 
wires  and  the  mean  ol  the  whole  Irom  the  middle  wirt; : 


No. 


I  I. 111! 


I.    All;.:.  i:tM(),  I    ji,iK45       -^  5;.4'>    +  3').7K 


II.    April  14  to  Ajjril  Z},,  1K46. 
III.    June  4  lo  Juno  6,  1K46  f  54-'/' 


3''5'» 


M.-.in. 


G. 


+  1S.52    -f  oo.^M)    —  iS.  ij    —34.63    -   51  I** 


I7W 


cx).oo         18.14         36.45 


rS.X4    -05.17    -17.41     -35iy    -5'95 


|.;.' 


^1».    after 

rarh    a 

■rvations 


M75 

lor  ordi- 
\vc  have 
ie  whole 
('  sccoikI 
error  in 
arc,  the 
the  same 
hich   the 

t^axc  thir 
time  ot 
li,^  lakei) 
ed  mean 
the  -.tar 
le  inidtlle 
L;  imper- 
e  tr.iiisit 
ler;  their 
.ol)er  Ji, 
iirn  were 
Olid  wire 
reduction 
\  for  the 
L'  several 


~ 

s. 

f^^ 

51  '« 

4i. 

19\- 

-  51  95 

cHAi'ii-K  (y-  h'/sr/Ts    xo//-:  /Aun/  /•/,■(>/:  iiriuiARn.        645 

I-rom  this  tahle  the  corrections  to  the  ni(!an  of  wires  for  imperfect  tran- 
sits have  l)een  de.hiced  i)y  ilividin-  the  sum  of  the  intervals  for  the  wires 
observed  hy  the  product  of  th<-  niunber  of  wire',  into  llu;  cosine  of  the 
star's  declination.  in  the  single  case  of  an  imperfect  transit  of  the  moon, 
allowance  lias  been  made  for  the  moon's  motion  iluriiii^  the  interval  of  time 
indicated  by  the  c(irr<'ction. 

In  deducing  the  instrumental  and  (  hronometer  errors  by  comparison 
ol  the  observed  and  computed  times  of  transit,  the  furmula  of  M.  Hansen 
has  been  emplo\cd. 

l)enoti:i-  by  I,  the  latitmle  of  the  j.lace. 

"I)  the  declinaticm  of  the  star. 
"  "   /  the  /enilh  ilistance  of  the  star, 

"   i  the  correction  of  instrument  for  error  of  level. 

n  the  correction  of  instrument  for  dt'viation  at  the  pole. 
""  the  correction  ot  instrument  tor  error  of  collimation. 
Then  the  reduction  of  the  observed  transit  to  the  meridian  has  the  form 

i  sec  L        n  sin  /  sec  L  sec  I )  -j- c  sec  I). 

'I  he  value  ol  one  di\ision  of  the  level  tube  accompanying^  the  instru- 
ment was  unknown  :  ami  the  instrument  itself  bein^'  in  California,  this 
\alue  (H)uld  not  be  determined;  but,  knowin:^;-  from  the  ol)servinL,'--books 
that  the  axis  was  always  kept  as  ncarl\-  horizontal  as  possible,  we  may 
ne;;lect  the  constant  term  i  sec  L.  or  rather  may  include  it  in  the  chrono- 
meter correction,  and  this  without  affecting^  the  observed  rii,dit  ascensions. 

Denote  also  by  A  the  computed  mean  time  of  star's  transit. 
"     r  the  observed  mean  time  of  star's  transit. 
"    A  r  the  (orrection  of  the  chronometer. 

I  hen  every  ol)servation  will  g;ive  an  ecjuation  of  the  following,'-  form: 

<>         It    -^  I'       A        sin  /  sec  I,  sec  !)  n  -I    sec  D  c. 
Or  for  brevity  : 


O  =  T  -f  AT  --  .\       a  n  -f 


)  c. 


puttings  a  and  1)  for  the  co-eftlcients  of  n  and  c.  Hy  help  of  this  formula 
approximate  values  were  obtained  for  n  .uul  c  from  two  or  more  observa- 
tions. These  were  i^enerally  taken  on  different  days,  ami  the  equations 
furnished  by  them  were  t)nly  limited  iiy  the  condition  that  the  value  of  c 
should  remain  constant  for  these  tlays,  allowance  beini^  afterward  made  for 
the  error  of  this  assumption.  The  values  of  n  and  c  thus  obtained  were 
substituted  in  the  ecpiation  furnished  by  each  obser\ation.  'Idle  mean  of 
the  chrononuler  corrections  thus  determined  beim;  compared  witli  the  in- 


6.}6 


M/MO/KS  (->/■    .!/)■  ///•■/      /f'//\'  (  7/ J  AV /\  /■■  A' /':.}/(  \\/: 


ili\ii.iual   rrsults,  .i  iu;\v  stl  of  f([ualiuns  ot  ( oiuiilioii  w.is  arr.m^cd,  ot  ihc 
lollowiiv-  tonn  : 


O  r^  i\SV 


a.  (In 


m 


\v:vTf 


ilA  I     is   the   rcsitlu.il  (|uamity  dhtaincil   1>\-  llic   aliovc   comparison. 


Ihc  solution  of  these  iHtterenti.il  eijuations  hv  thi-  inethotl  of  least  siinan 
j;a\e   the   correction^  o!    n  and  i,  whicli,  aii[)lie<i  to  the  assunied 


most   pn^halile  \'al'ics. 


Th. 


assumed    and    .idopted    ii   ani 


il\e    tiK' 


are   puen 


lielow.  The  application  ot  these  tuial  \ahies  to  the  oriujinal  equations 
L;ave  now  tiu;  most  ])roliaIile  chronometer  correction,  and  this,  applied  to 
tile  corrected  transit  of  the  moon's  liinb,  ijave  the  mean  time  of  transit,  and 
tlnallv  the  rivdu  .i^^cension. 


'/'ii/','i-  ,'f  .1  <suinr,i  iin.f  .Li.'f'li,/  I'tiiufs  of  n  ./////< 


I'AtK. 


A'^M  MKl). 


Atilil'TV.I). 


Aumist  31 ,  ;.■•,  I1S4; 
( iiiober  .;o,  1845  . 
April  14,  i.^4'>    . . . 

April  I'),  1.S46 

June  4.  i^4() 


) 

June  5.  1-4'' \ 


t      3  70: 


♦•    o  574 


s. 

-  3  =37 

-3  -37 

*■  o  l«J 

♦   o  1.S3 

-  I)  143 


t  3  702 

f  I   343 

f  I    ^4S 

-t  52   -'65 

*      +-  o   574 

I       f  o  689 


-  3  -37 

-  i-ot'i 
f  o.fs90 

-  o  0S4 
-o  145 

-  c  183 


The  follduinL:  !on:^itu<les  were  assumed  as  the  liasis  ol   the  comparison 
(.if  the  oli'^erved  with  the  tahulated  moon  cuhnin.itions  : 


I.  Aiij;ust  32,  1H4:       u  jS  30 

II.   <  IcUiIkt  2(1.  I^45 7  -s;  31 

in.  Apt, I  14.  1-4'' '"i  '>^  -o 

IV.  J 11  lit;  4,  1X4'. : 8  01  5J 


B 


y  help  ot   these  tl)<- 


moon 


,U  and  hoiirl\-  motion  .it  transit  \serecom- 


mted    trom    the    moon-i  ulmin.itinL,''    li  a    o!    the    .\aiitic.d    .\!m,uiac.    u-^ii 


foiirt 


1  (httereni  I 


.\ 


imi>,n'i^oii  ol  the  ( (mii>iiti  d  .  K   uitli   that   oijserxcd 


irave  the   numt  i-.itor     the  linurlv   motion   henv'    tli  •  denominator-  ol  tn< 


fract 


ion   expressii);^    the    (orrection    of  the    assumed    loiiidtudes.       Thost 


corrections,  and  the  resultiii''  loiv/itiides, 


are  as  I 


oilous  : 


I.    <■ 


•5= 


II.    -  I     15.^.5 


III.  -o 

IV.  44 


37-  54 
36.70 


/•.  HI.  S. 

(>  5'*^  4552 

7  :;«  15(5 

8  117  4-' 46 

8  i/.  ;X.-o 


ciiirriN  or  i<i:sri:rs-^xori   irom  prof,  /hkjiar/)        6,7 

Camps  I.  and  II.,  as  well  as  III.  and  IW,  W\xvy  a)nnt:ct(Ml  by  chrono- 
nu'ti-i(  ditttrcnccs,  it  h.conus  imporlanl  to  t<;si  the  results  above  given  by 
a  coniparison  ufth-'  two  dilTerences.      W'v.  have  then 

liv  luiKirs i,>      .,    t',  ^ 

liv  chro ,       ,,  V  . 

-'V     3j  '^3  I      1067 

■ --40..  r  3  09 

The  rlin.nnnK'tric  dilf.'tvn.v  is  adopted  as  th.>  most  exact-  ai)porti()n- 
in-  the  .Ti-,,,-,  .,f  the  oth<r  amon^  the  lon<,ritudes  by  liinars,  rememberint^r 
that  (amp  II.  is  detennin.-d  by  a  ^in-h-  <ulmination,  while  at  each  of  the 
others  two  wry,-  observed,  we  should  now  I;ave,  were  the  lunar  tables  cor- 
rect, the  best  syst.in  of  lon.^itndes.  M,-.  S.  C.  Walk,,r  stales  that  a  cor- 
rection (.f  the  present  residual  .•rrors  of  the  lunar  tables  would  increase  all 
the  l(>n,L:itud<'s  depeii.lin-  upon  moon  culminations  by  about  six  seconds 
of  tunr.  .\ddin,-,  therelorc.  six  seconds  to  the  above  correcteil  longitudes, 
we  gel  Imally,  as  th<:  basis  ..f  the  who!.-  work,  the  following  adoptecl 
longitutles. 

/■.  III.          s.                "  '  '' 

I.    M"Uth  iif  thr   r.Mlt.iinr.,|iii.t),.llil.  Au-iist    ;-•,   1S45    ....    (,  :;K  50.-:  ;t    104  4J  41 

II.   C.mi|)  .11  S.ih  l.akr,  .),-iol,.'t  i4tli,  joili ;•  js  ■:4. ;;   rt  112  06  08 

III.    I.issc-ir,  I  .11111.   I>>.r  Cur'K.  .April  14,  1846 s  07  4(M,j  -.   ui  56  44 

I\'.    I'.utl.'',,  S.ur.imcnlo  \-,,!h.y,  June  4,  i.'-'4', s  .y,  5('--4-i--i  Vi  »4 

l.'pon  ihesr  and   the    se.xiani   observations   is  based   the  accompanving 
table  of  laliuule-,  and  longitudes. 

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IhiU'i  li>rl. 

.Miuith  111  ilic  l'(iiil.nM('-(|iiil>'>ini. 

.Ark.!!)--.!-.  Kivif.  .It  mmiili  ol  tin-  ; 

Slu't'p  Kivfr,  I'tali  l'.i>s. 

llc.ui-u.itiT  of  a  IribiiHi  \  to  ilir  Aik.ui-..i-.  Kivir  ( lidding  in 

llir  ri'l;^t'  Uctuccti  I'l.iltc  ami  .Atkaiii.!-.  waters). 
I'lliev  Kork  ol' thi"  .\tk.ins.ii.  tliu-o  null's  .bovi-  its  liioiilli. 
On  tiie  I..\kf  Fork  of  the  Ark  insa-.,  on  ilic  western  shore  ^t 

the  ii|i|)er  Like,  near  the  itih-l. 
1  li  .iil-w.Her^  of  the  m.un  hr.iiii  li  of  llie  Ark.iiisas  Kiver. 
( >n   I'mev    Kiver,   an  allliiciil    ol   ( ir  iii'!    Kiver   of  the  (  nl- 

oraih)  of  the  (itilf  of  Cihtomi.i. 
Wilh.iiiis's  I-ishety.  I'lney  Kucr. 
( ir.ind  Kner  of  tlie  <  fulf  of  C  aliform. i. 
White   KiM"!    (.illh:ciit    of  (.reeii    Ki\cr   of   the   roloraihii, 

ai  ".'.'.)/  /•t.iirif." 
Folks  (if  White  Kn  ei 
tiuthlii'-.  t  leek  Id   \\  hill    Kneri. 
••  W.tr  I'.i-^le  C.unp,"  White  l<i\er. 
liieen    Kner   of   the    Color.ido.  lelt    li.iuk,  one    .uul    a    li.ilf 

mile  ..lioNe  the  iivnith  "I  While  Kuei. 
I. .ike  lurk  (of  the  I'lnt.ih),  t"ii  miles  .ihove  its  month. 
I)u.hene^  Id'k  mf  the  t'lnt.ihl. 
Moiin'.  1  ..rk 
I'll  a  l>r.i:u:h  of  the  J  inif.iiiiir-n  .11     rini|).iii(i.;o'>  Kiver  u<\ 

the  (tall  l..ikei. 
rmip.mojjos  Kner. 
I  iiiip.uio.;!!-.  Kner. 

I'im(|u.iii  Creek,  shore  if  the  I  tah  I..ike. 
Outlet  of  I't.ih  L.ike,  at  luoiith  of  Hiiuhe 
Station  t^rcek,  soulheasliin  shor 
Summit  of   I'e.ik  of   Antelo|ie    Is 

of  (Ircat  Salt  Lake. 
Spiin>;    I'oiiit  lextieiiiil'.  of   .1    piomontorv   .il    '•unth 

S.ilt  Lake,  oppiisi'e  .Anieloiic  Isl.iiull. 
Spring    in   valley,  opening;   mi  soiiihein    slvrc  of  the  CJre.il 

^,llt  1.  ike. 
\  .illex  .  iie.ir  soutlnM  -^lei  11  sliuie  ol  S.ilt  I., ike. 
I'llot  I'e.ik  Creek. 
Spring  .It  head  of  r. nine. 
Whilton's  Sprinj;. 

I  r.ine'i  llr.ineh  (of  the  south  furk  of  Ihiiiiholdt  Kiverl. 
Ill  .111  of  s'liilh  fork  of  llandmldt  Kner. 
1  ■niiior'-.  Spiiiij;. 
M.isil's  (  reek, 
itoiliiij;  Spun;;-;. 
Moor 


(reek. 

of  the  (Ire. II  S.ill  L.ike. 
ml.  111   the   -.oiiihern  p.irl 

L-nit  of 


e  s  I  reel 


S.n;;iuul.ii's  Spiin^,  Sheep  Mount, lin. 

F.isuiii  shore  of  L.ike  W.ilker. 

W.dker  Kner.ihre'-  miles  .ibove  its  mmith  in  L.ike  W.dker. 

W.ilker  Kner,  at  iis  inosi  noithern  bend. 

Salmon  Trout  Kner,  above  the  lower  ntfii'H. 

S.dmun   Trout  Kner. 

Saliimn  Trout  Kive--.   it  the  forks. 

I'.iss  in  the  Sierra  Nevail.i.  at  lie.id  of  S.iliiinn    Iroul  Kner. 

On  .itiiuent  to  iiotlli  fork  of  the  A'ii'  di  /ci  .  hn,> i:  iiiins. 

On  .M.iilin's  fork  (of  S.it  raineiito  \'.illey). 

till  Ilimilton's  Creek  (S.icr.iniento  \'.ille\) 

/i'(e  </(-  /lo  Ameriianos  (opposite  flnines'  Ibnise). 


?■' 


Amk. 


kiver  tof 


Date 


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June 


7     3/   14  41 


JO   14    II      Aii\-uin-iio  Kivcr  (nf  tlic  S.iii  |o.h|uin). 
"'1  ■in  .illlucnt  IM  the  iipiKi  S.in  J(i,i(|uiii. 


On  the    lul.irr    L.ik..'  Fork  t  kto  /iVirr),  nnc  mile  below  tlic 

junction  ol    I\i|)lin  and  Stopii's  lurks. 
//'/<■  /..li^iiitii,  in  Ihi:  \,illoy  ot  >.://  J.n,'  (of  Francisco  H.iyi. 
Koa.l  Iroin  .Sun  J,>s,-  to  .\i>i/,i   Cms,  on   the  Cii,s/,i  ,/,■' /,>s 

Ko  1(1   (r..in  S.iii   7,M,-  to  ,s;;^;A»  (V/,-,  mar  Miinniit  of  the 

Cut-.i/ii  tie  li's  < ,<ih'\. 
I'r.i  M,iu»i  I'rcek  (liernardo  Castro's).  Hay  of  Monterey. 
On  the  I'lj.iro  Kivcr  (of  the  May  of  Monterev),  one-fourth 

ot  .1  mile  below  .hisrr'.i  lioiiMe. 
Ciimez  Kun,  .it  ed^'e  of  Salmas  I'l.im. 
I  ow.duiiine  Kiver. 

Rio  de  Ids  .Aniericmos.  opposite  (Irimes'  House. 
Ir.niier  Kivor,  mouth  of  yin\i  Kiver. 
I'.eiut  of  F'e.Ulur  Ri\ir. 
Hiitte  Creek  (Neal\  K.aulio). 
I'mc  Creek. 
Deer    l\i\ er  (opjiosUe    I..i^^en\    I  lou^ei,  half  ,i  mile  above 

Its  mouth  in  the  S.icrainento. 
.Mouth  of  No/ah  River  (of  the  S.Kr.iiiu'iilol. 
I'lr.inl  s  I  reek. 
C.impbell's  Cieek. 

Ipper  Sacranientii,  abo\e  I  .ill  River. 
I'pper  S.icramento  Kuer,  .it  upper  end  of  Round  Valley. 
F!.i->tern  shore  of  Lake  Klutt. 
McCr.idy  Rivci. 

Denny's  lir.mi  h  (of  I'l.im. ilh  L.ike'. 
.Ambuscade  Creek  (of '1  l.unatli  i,,\ke). 
Csjrr.ii  Creek  (of    I  l.im.uh    I.ake),  observation    t.iken   .ifter 

the  ti<;ht  of  the  gth  to  loth. 
Tortev-    River  (of    1  l.unatli    I. .ike.  observ.ition    t.iken  after 

the  lii^ht  at  village. 
We  to-«.ili  Creek  (soutlu. intern  end  (if  ■ri.iniath  I.ake). 
Kiissels'>  I'.ianch. 

I'omsett  River  (of  the  Cpper  S.icramento). 
Meyers's  iirancli  (Sierra  Nevad.i). 
Hiitte  (.'reek. 
"  IStittfs  Of  thi-  S<ii>iimento"  (on  .i  --m.ill  run  at  the  south- 

e.istcrn  b.ise). 
"  Unit,  so/'  //;.•  S,t,  ramrnto"  (on   .i  sm.iil    run  or  spring  .it 

noi  thc.istern  b.i>e>. 


T 


C-.: 


.W;.l/(  VA'.V  (V  .1/)"  ////■      /('//. \"  (7/  lA'/./  .S  /A'/W/iKV/: 


To     All,     To     WIIONI      illl'-l-     IKI>rNIS    SUM  I     (uMl',    (  i  KKI   TI  \i ;  : 

Kiunv  y  that,  in  ('t)nsr(|iifii( c  nt  iirojiositioiis  ot  peace,  or  rfssation  of 
ho'^tilitics.  liciii;^  Mihiiiitlfd  I"  uif.  a-^  c-ominaiulant  oi  the  C'alitonii.i  I'.at- 
talioii  ot'  I'niti  .1  States  ton  (■>,  which  haxc  m>  l.ir  Ikcu  acct'ilctl  to  1)\-  me 
as  to  tau-^c  inc  to  appoint  a  I'o.uti  ol  ( ninniissitui'  is  to  ionl<r  with  a  siini- 
hir  lio.ird  appointed  li\  the  ( '.ditornians,  and  it  ir([uirin^f  a  htllr  tiii\<-  to 
ch)se  tlir  ntL;(>tia'ioiis  ;  it  is  aL;i'<''<l  upon  .iml  onlercd  l>y  nir  that  an 
entire  cessation  ol  hostilities  sli.ill  take  plac  nntil  to-morrow  atteriKx  ii 
(  |annar\  i;th),and  th.il  ;h<-  s,ii<l  (".ihtornians  \«-  iiermitted  to  hriu;^  in 
their  w(>i:iid,(d  to  the  mission  ot'  S.m  I'l'rn.uidti,  wh'  re,  also,  it  the\ 
choose.  the\-  I  ,in  remo\  e  their  c.imp,  to  t.iciht.ite  s.iid  ne..;otiations. 

(ii\(.n  under  m\   h.uid  and  se.d  tiiis  twehth  d.i\'  ot  January,    i>^.\y- 

|.     (  '.      I'll  \IoN  1  , 

l.uuii  lunU-i  '■'/  'III-/  (  Hiti-ii  Sial,  \-  .  \tiii\, 

iii:J  .]/;///.!>  v  {'o))n)ni)!iiii>;t  I'f  Cii/rfot  H!,i. 


i.  m 


Artiiici  of  liif^itulatiou  made  iiiid  cutii ai  nito  <//  tin-  ),uii/m  of  Concir^a. 
f/it.\  thirteenth  day  ot  Jiinuti'  \.  .Itir.o  Potuitti.  tit^htrrn  hundred  and 
forty-seven,  hetioeen  /'.  />'.  Reiidii;^,  Mii'.u  :  I.ouis  Mel.iine,  '//., 
Conimandini^  .Irtillerx  :  W'm.  //.  /\usse/:'.  (hi/ntin,e  (^/fieei .  etui/nii-;- 
s/oners  ii/>/>o/nted  />y  '/'.  C.  l-'rinunit.  I .:euteniint-i'o/onel  lUiled 
States  .t  rniy  and  Military  ('oinniandattt  ft  the  I'eriitoty  of  Califoi- 
fiia  :  and  jose  .Intt>nio  idri//,>,  Ci'nnnandante  de  lisijuadron,  .-lu- 
i^iistin  O/irt'ra,  I^iputado,  Ci'nnnissionet .•.,  af^pointcd  l>\  Don  .■lnd)es 
I'liO.  (  oiKDumdei  -in-Chief  of  tl:e  (alifii  nta  forees  under  the  Mexi- 
I  an  fia^. 


\y-\': 


t 


■!i,; 


i:t\;il' 


Auriiir  I.  1  lie  t'onimissifMiers  on  the  |>.u-t  of  the  Cahfornians  a^^ree 
tliat  tii'ir  entire  tone  shall,  on  pre--eiitation  iA  theins«-l\es  to  Lieutenant 
Colonel  l'r('mont,  deli\er  uji  their  artiller\  and  |)ulilic  arms,  and  they  shall 
return  i>e:i(f.dil\'  to  their  homes,  (  ontormin'^  to  the  l.iws  .uid  re.^'iiJalious 
of  the  1  nited  s',!!'--,  and  not  ai^.tin  i.ike  up  .inns  durim;  the  w.ir  hetween 
the'  I  nited  States  .md  Mexico,  l.ut  will  assist  ,ind  ,iid  in  pl.icin;.;  the  coun- 
try in  a  st.ue  ol  pe.n  e  and  tran(|iiiliit\-. 

Ari.  2.  Ihe  Commissioners  on  the  p.iri  <i|  1  .iiiitenantColonel  I  r-'- 
mont  a_i,Tee  and  hind  themselves  on  the  fult'ilment  of  the  first  article  hy  the 
Californians,  th,il  they  di.il!  he  ^^uaranteed  protection  ot  lite  and  property 
whether  on  parole  or  otlx'rwise. 

AkT.  V  I  h.it,  u.ntil  a  treat)  ot  ]ie.ice  he  made  and  sij^rned  between  the 
United  States  of  North  .America  and  the  Republic  of  Mexico,  no  Calitor- 
nian  or  other  Mexican  citi/<-n  shall  he  bouiitl  to  take  the  oath  of  allei^daiice. 


ciiArri  1^  ()/  Av.sr/  rs   c.iri ii  i a  r/<K\  at  cd/  /■:.V(,a 


(I'.i 


Akt.  4.     That    aiiv   Cilitnrnian    n,-    ntlur  citi/cii   ul    Mexico  d.-sirint;,  is 
I'<-nnittc.l   l.y   tlii,  <  apitnlali.-n    t..   l.av   the  country   withuiit   let   or   hin 
ilrancc. 

Akt.  5-  That,  in  virtur  of  thr  ator.sai<l  arti<  l.^s,  r.inai  ri-hts  and  ,.iivi- 
U-cs  an-  vonchsalr,!  to  <-v(Ty  cili/cn  of  Cantoriiia,  as  arc  cnj,.yc(l  hy  th.- 
nti/fiis  (.1  th<-  riiitcil  States  of  Xortli  America. 

Aki.  6.  All  offie.-rs.  citizens,  toni-ners.  or  others,  shall  receive  th.- 
I'rotci  tion  .L;narant(r,l  l.y  tiic  st  (ond  article. 

Aui.  ;.   This  capitulation   i.  int. -n. Id   to  In-  no   bar  in   ofl'ecting  such 
arranwcinents  .is  ni.iv  in  future  he  in  justice  r.Miuirc.l  l.y  both  [..irties. 
V.  U.  I\i:\i.i.s.,,  .]/„/\'f  Califotntii  Juittalioii. 
W.M.  H.  Ri-M(i.   Onitiame  (Hfucr  oj  i\tlifornia  Jiattalion. 
Loiis    M.  I.\M,  ji;.,  L'oHinutHiiini^^  Artillny  Califoynia  Battalion. 
Josf:   .Antom.,  C'akimm,   ('o>,/„ia>i</ant,-  dr  lis.juaitrfln. 
AroisiiN   ()ii\iK\,    l)iputa(to. 
A[)pro\<-tl. 

j.   ('.    I-KiMoM,    I. inttcnant-ColoHcl  ihiitcii  States  Army, 
a  Hit  Military  Connuatnta  iit  of  Ca/i/oynia. 
Apjjrohado. 

Amikks    I'iro,    Coiinuatutant,-  df   J:  M<tt,i,/>on  y  ci    (;,/c    dc 
las  f  Iter  zas  nacioiialcs  ,7/  Cat i font ia. 


.Idditioiial  j-l)tii!i\ 

'Ihat  the  paroles  k^{  all  officers,  citi/ens.  .uid  others  of  the  I'nited 
.Stat.'s.  and  of  naturali/.-d  citi/ens  of  Mexico,  axv  hv  this  fore.rroin.i,^  capitu- 
lation cancel. 'd,  and  .-very  condition  of  saitl  paroles  from  and  after  this 
date  are  <.f  no  furth.-r  fore.'  and  effect,  .in.l  all  prisoners  of  both  parties  aw 
hereby  released. 
r.  1<.  Ri:Ai'iNt;,  Major  Ca/i/of  itia  luittalioii. 

I.oiis  MeLANi:,  Jr.,   Co»i»ta>tdini^-  ArtilUry  Cafiforiiia  fuxttaiion. 

\\.  11.  KissiJi,   (hdiiaiui    (Hficcr  of  California  luUtalion. 

Josf   .Amonio   Cakii.i,  I,   ConinuiHdantc  dc  l-isijuadroH. 

Ar(,rsiiN    ()ii\i:k\,    Pipittado. 
Appro\-ed. 

J.    C.    I'KfMo.M,    /.i,iit,nant-L'oloncl    I'liitt'd    States    Army,   and 

Military  Connnandant  of  California. 
Approbadc). 

AniuxIs  Pico.  Commandant,'  dc  Iisqiiadron  y  en  Gcfc  dc  las  fucrzas 

nacionaks  en  California. 

ClLDAD   I>K   Los   AncIKI.KS, 

January  16,  1S47. 


''54 


,i//..i/('/A'.s  f'/'  !/»■  I II i-:—ioii\  i  /I  IK/ IS  ih'i:\ii)\ r 


III  M'l.'l   \l;llKs,  ("ii  |i\li    hi:    I. OS    .\ni;i  I.l-s, 
|.iniiar\    15.  iS.j;. 

Siu  :  I\rr(rriii;^M(>  iiu'  Iftti-i-  ot  tb.r  nth,  I  have  tin-  honor  to  iiilorni 
von  ot  thf  .irriwil  of  I  .ifiiti-nant-L'oloiK'l  I'li  nioiu  at  this  pl.iir  with  lour 
hiiiitlrccl  men  .  that  soiiu"  ol  th<'  iiisuri.;«'iu-^  havi-  inadr  tlu-ir  esc  .ipc  to 
Soiiora,  and  that  the  rest  ha\<'  snrrnulcrcd  to  niir  anus. 

JininfdJatt'K  alter  the  l>.ittlfs  ot  the  Stii  aw\  uth  iIk-v  Ix-i^aii  to  djs- 
prrsc;  and  I  am  sorr\-  to  sav  tiial  thrir  Icadfi-,  |osc  M.  Mores,  m.idr  his 
<'sia|it'.  and  th.it  the  others  h,i\i'  linii  |i,iriloiii(l  hv  a  capitul.ition  ,iL;rc<d 
upon  l'\    I  afnt<nant-C'olonr|  Irtiiioiit. 

josi'  M.  [•"lores,  the  coininandcr  ot  the  insiirLTent  forces,  two  or  three 
tla\s  jire\ious  to  the  Stli.  sent  two  (  oniinissit)ners,  with  a  llai;  of  irnce, 
to  in\  lanip  to  make  "a  treats-  ot  pe.ue."  I  jnlormed  the  (ommissioiiers 
th.it  I  could  not  recoi^rni/(!  jost-  M.  Ilore-,,  who  h,id  hroki'ii  his  jiarole,  as 
an  'nonorahk'  man,  or  .is  one  li.ivin;;  ,iny  ri^ihtfiil  ,iutliorit\,  or  wortlw  to 
Ix-  treated  witli ;  that  he  was  .1  reix'l  in  arms,  ,ind  it  I  (  aii:^nt  him,  I  would 
h.r.  e  him  sliot. 

It  seemed  tliat,  not  Uein^  aMe  to  ne^oti.ite  with  ine,  and  havinj^'  lost 
th'-  liattles  of  tlv  Stli  and  oth,  the\-  met  Colonel  Ireinoui  on  the  i  jth 
inst.,  on  his  way  here,  who,  not  knowing;  wh.it  h.id  oc  i  urred,  entered 
int<i  tin-  cijiituKition  with  them  \\hi(  h  I  now  send  to  \()u  ;  and  .ilthou'^h 
!  refused  to  do  it  nuselt.  still  1  h,i\f  tl)ou:^lu  it  hest  to  appro',  r  of  it.  | 
am  \^\'m\  to  s.iy  that,  by  the  c.ipitul.ition.  \\r  ha\<;  recovered  the  ;^un  t.iken 
hy  the  insiiri^ents  ;it  the  sad  ileleat  of  ( ieneral  KeariU'  .it  S.in  Pascpial. 

The  territory  of  C.ilitorni.i  is  a;.;ain  traiKiuil,  .md  the  ci\il  LM)\-ernment. 
forme  1  1)\  me,  is  ai^Min  in  oper,itiou  in  the  pl.u  i-s  where  it  was  interrupted 
l)\  the  insur!L,'(Mits. 

Colonel  hremont  h.is   ti\e   hmvli'eil  men   in  his  li.itt.ilion.  which  will  Ih 
<[uite  siithcient    to  preserve  ti:,<:   pe.ice   ot   the   territory;   and  i  .will  imme- 
tiiately  witlulraw  my  s.ulors  ,u',.i  marines.  ,tnd  s.iil  .is  soon  as  possible   for 
th(r  coast  of  Mexico,  w  ho  u  i  nope  the\-  will  -^wv  a  ;,u)od  account  of  iht-m- 

seK  cs. 

l",uihlu!l\ ,  \  our  obi  diem  servant. 


k.     \   .     SloCKTON, 

Cofnmodoti',  etc. 


'Id   Nil    Ilo\oR\i;i  1;  Ciidi<<;i    H\Nr«nir, 

Secretary  of  the  Xavy,    ]\'ash:>>.yJon,  P.   (. 


CIIArriM  OF  KESVI.TS-L'Al'l  I'll  A  1 10.\  Ol-   (  Oll.XCA. 


'■>> 


Uniii:i>  Sr\ii>  Ikk.atk  Cmnckkss, 
IIakikik  Ol   Sw  |)ii(;<),  jaiiuaiN'  j:,   iS.j;. 
Sik  :    I  have  the  honor  to  inlonn   nou  that  the  civil  j^ovcniiiiciit  ot'  this 
I  (Tfitory    is  ill   siiccc  ,-,tul  operation,    tiiat    ( "oloncl    Pri'inoiU    is  actitiL^   as 
j;o\('riior,  and  Colonel  Kiissell  a,  s((r(tar\.  and  that  1  am  on  hoard  ot  tiu: 
Con_t,fress  iireparin;^  lui-  Inr  the  i  oa  .t  ol  Mf\i(o. 

Lieutenant    (  iraw  who   i.   i  h  ii;.;cd    with.    in\    ilespatelu-s.   h,i>   been    ni\ 

aid  lie  (.im|i,  an<l  has  dune  his  (hit\  with  i^rea.t  i^ood  ((induct  and  L^allanlr). 

lie   is  ilu-   olticer  u  hoiii    I    sent   to   rrli(\c    ( ieiu'ral    Kearny    troni   his 

perilous  condition   after  his  drt'eat  at   San  l'as(|ual,  and  deser\'es  the  con- 

siil(MMtion  ot  the  department. 

lie  will    Ix'   able   to  >;ive    you  iho    particulars   ol    thai    untortunatf-   and 
disastrous  afVair. 

I-'aithrulIy  ,  \our  olx'dieiu  ser\ant, 

K.     !•'.    S'lOCKTON, 

Commodore,  ctt. 

'\k)  TII!     iioNoKMlll     (Ji;oK(,l;   H\N(  Kolf, 

Secretary  of  the  Navy,   Washington,  I).  C. 


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